Lionheart
by Adam Clayton Jones
Summary: The Ballad of Squall Leonhart. New Chapter "Gathering of the Storm" uploaded. **Apologies for the delay** The early skirmishes of the SeeD Forces against the Pandora forces.
1. Title PageAuthor's Disclaimer

**Lionheart:**

The Ballad of Squall Leonhart

**This novel is rated M for mature subject matter that details strong violent themes, coarse language, crude humor, and suggestive love themes.**

Lionheart is a novellization of SquareEnix's (at the time SquareSoft's) game Final Fantasy VIII. A bit of AU is incorporated to generate the videogame elements into a more pragmatic and versatile storyline; as well, a bit of artistic flair has been incorporated based on personal touches that I find to be enjoyable.

I am not a representative of SquareEnix, Sony, or any legal representative of the two nor do I own the rights of any of their merchandise and memorabilia. For future sake, all of the chapters succeeding this disclaimer declaration page are hereby the work of my own brain and do not represent any owner rights to the titles.

Enjoy the Work-in-Progress. ~~~A.C.J.


	2. From An Orphanage To An Academy

_What before was pure_

_Now lay forever tainted:_

_Sorrow on a gleam._

The lighthouse was still burning from the rocket attack. Military fire had riddled the stone structure for hours before, finally, the bulk of it was singing a song of the flame. The bright shield encasing the crown where the light once stood beaconing the sailors of all continents before now hung disentigrated. The silo structure was close to a decapitation, burnt in a majority and looked like swiss cheese. The earth at its base and all down the hill was charred, and cold bodies of the village dead lay crumpled atop each other. The earth used to be green in some places, a dusty brown in others where the beaches met the mists of the southern oceans. The waters lapped upon broken and burnt limbs, and the fish gasped for life amidst the bloody brink.

The orphanage cresting near the shallow lagoon just beyond the delapidated lighthouse was the main target, although the ground and air forces had seemingly no qualms about raiding the three dense forests to the southeast and west and the small village of Haditha further past them. The children within the orphanage, the oldest near twelve and the youngest either eight or nine, were thought to be spared or at least separated by the caretaker of the hovel-- who was the intended goal. The Hadithan villagers were an unnecessary distraction, but they had brandied pitchforks scrapped from the quaint barnyards up north to come protest the superior military's use of over-the-top force. Now, it seems they could protest in an internal peace. The airstrikes had crushed the whole landscape in one strife, knocking the three-quarters of the populace and sending the rest fleeing for their lives. The ground troops mainly provided a scary face and the one lone rocket-propelled grenade which took out that beautiful lighthouse. That structure had endured five centuries of weather and time.

At noon, they had left their base from a large city way on the eastern side of the world that no one in Haditha quite knew about; they knew of the unfortunate consequence, yet seemed ready to bear it. Thirty minutes later, the villagers assembled a small rocky knoll out in the open and saw the fighter jets coming, saw the frigates and destroyers sailing -- and just stood there. Armed with little 'forks and some carrying placards labelled in peace signs, they attempted to hold a position that would ensure sufficient time for the intended target inside the orphanage to escape. The frontline fighter jets strafed the earth with liquid fire, and the villagers were charred. For good measure, the line behind them drew a second strafe, and then the navy ships deployed their ground forces to finish the task.

Stepping over bodies, they waded across the shallow lagoon, faces tense, knowing full well the capacities and abilities about the young woman whom they were supposed to eliminate. The fresh-faced lady was a pale beauty with long silky hair and sharp hazel eyes that glowed a dark green when her ire increased. A slender and frail body she had could turn into something grotesque and diabolical-- experts described her as having "unusual sorceress powers" the kinds of which hadn't been seen in nearly a decade since the ejection of the terrible monster that plagued Esthar. To be fair, there was more than one of those foul creatures in the old days that commanded a legion of dark troops in their leagues; yet, one fair she-devil in this orphanage was more than enough to stiffen the army's responses. The group crossed the lagoon and brought down the giant mahogany doors separating the atrium of the orphanage from the massive garden overlooking the lagoon. Silence greeted them along with a hollow emptiness. Immediate conjurations of peaceful times past of happy children singing and drawing and laughing seemed to hang in a vast stillness. The outside violence had crept its way inside, and the walls of the hovel's enclosure had seemed to collapse on some of the inhabitants. Their laughter had died unnoticed. Some of the troops more sensitive than others were frozen in place. Not just physical death was evident, but a torrid emotional death was unbearable.

An eerie chant siezed their reverie, and the two captains motioned to the eastern wing. A low humming sound-- the lyrical rhythm to a faraway children's song-- echoed and reverberated lazily across the blackened and charred ceiling, nooks and crannies. Most of the enlisted dared not to move; the melody entranced them of their personal memories. The lead commander jutted the butt of his assault rifle into the backs of three of his corporals, and they stiltedly moved into the wing. An ephemeral light halted their steps, and they were obliged to look upon the beauty of their frail target. Her face wore a calm and soothing tone around the lips and brow, but her eyes shone pained and stony textures. The hazel was fast turning bright green. The second-in-command realized the danger too late and ordered a volley of ammunition at the lady. More troops joined him and the three entranced corporals, and several BAR bullets rang out. Armor-piercing bullets on a target that wore no armor and barely a dress on at all-- shockingly beautiful pale skin glinted against the dark stony walls of the wing. The bullets hung in mid-air, suspended by an unseen void, their smoking tails lazily spiralling in the thin airy breeze. She lifted her hand, tilted her head to the side, and jabbed her hand slightly forward sending all the bullets straight to the throats of the nine men firing at her in the wing. Casting a grayish-blue shield around her, she bellowed into the main atrium and sent an enormous shard of lightning out the palm of her hand frying the rest of the squad where they stood-- a true siren's call had eliminated the struck men where they stood.

The chant stopped, the light subsided, and she was back to herself. She turned toward the gaping hole in the northern wall and saw the jets and the navy ships retreating. They had sent in a suicide mission.

She bent her head down and tried hard to weep, but tears had never been easy for her to conjure up. Then the thoughts of the three dead children she had cared for nearly nine years welled up enough to soak her corners, and she put a hand to her temple to ease her duress. She stood like that for several minutes.

A noise rustled in the kitchen.

She grabbed a long nailed pike and stormed into the kitchen ready to strike.

A small brown-haired boy in a yellow shirt and frightened expression greeted her. The one child left in the orphanage. She dropped her pike, knelt, and cradled the boy in her arms. Using what reserved powers she could, a slow trickling of warmth left her bloodstream and enveloped him for his body was cold and trembling. He instantly relaxed and started crying, for he did not know what was going on. She knew who he was and why he was still here.

"Squall, why were you out at the garden at a time like this?"

The young boy could not answer. His mind was too adrift.

"Squall, please. Why weren't you on the White Ship? That is the safest place right now."

"Where will you go?" His voice was squeaky. At eight, he could be considered a mouse in voice.

"I can manage on my own, my child. It is you who I'm more worried about."

"Sis is gone, and the others, too. I'm all alone."

"You can never be truly alone on this world. You just have to believe that you can make things happen."

Squall lowered his head. "Easy for you to see."

"Squall, you must leave here at once. Make your way from here as far as you can go." She cupped his chin and forced him to look at her. "You must do this."

Whether she did it or not, he rose and followed her to the balcony overlooking the greater southern sea. The sun above, hanging alone in the cloudless sky, oversaw a bloody, charred mess of land. Young Squall Leonhart looked for the first time at death and became nauseated. He clung at the woman's dress, but she held him back.

"Life will always be dangerous, my child. You cannot expect things to be given to you."

He swallowed that hard, and his stomach became more sick. Before his jelly legs gave him under, she caught his arm and spoke in his ear. "Believe you can overcome those dangers and nothing will stop you, Squall." Her eyes smoothed out to the lightest hazel he had ever seen, her voice stretched in the softest and gentlest he had ever heard, and he nodded to her in solemn understanding. She took his hand and led him down to the beach. A small rowboat lay at the shore. It was clear what he must do, he saw, in order to survive. "The journey is long," she said, "but yor story is far from over."

He climbed into the boat, grabbed the oars, and she hoisted him off. The water was tranquil at this part of the world, and not a cloud in sight would stall his path with rain. She watched him depart, and she knew she would see him again one day when he was all grown up. He would be a lot stronger physically, but she wondered if his mind would be easily corruptible. That part she was determined to test.

_A new life ahead,_

_A responsibility._

_How could he forsee?_

A five-hour row across the sea dragged the sun to farthest western periphery, sending the waters in a cascade of bright red and yellow colors. A seagull cawed, and land was in sight. A tip of a peninsula was in view, a part of a larger continent that he had never seen before-- indeed he wasn't even sure if it was an actual continent or another large island he had passed up on his east. From the orphanage and the dilapidated lighthouse, he had made a northerly trek and for five hours had rowed across tranquil waters crystal blue and brimming with fish. A stony peninsula with a huge jutting mountain fire-red in color was rising up to meet him. Mist shrouded the peak of the summit; gulls flitted around suggesting a beach to bunk on for the night. His arms had grown stiff and an ache developed in his back that quivered him every time he pulled back to mount the next row. He rowed past the giant red finger in the sky and noticed a sandy beach further east on the landmass's crest. He took in a breath and pushed toward it with all his might. The small eight-year old crested the beach, and he dropped his oars and flopped out onto the sand and did not get up.

Sleep overtook him immediately, and he started dreaming. Fond memories of the orphanage crept into his mind, memories of the pale-faced lady caretaker with the long silky hair whom he and the other kids called Matron. Memories of his other caretaker, another woman younger and more energetic but whose name always escaped him. He always used to call her Sis, because of his situation and because she was like a big sister for him. That little extension of his life where no family ever stood. There was a family out there, he thought, or otherwise he wouldn't have been born. No recollections of a mother-figure or a father-figure were ever present within him, so he figured he was sent to the orphanage because nobody truly loved him. Sis and Matron were substitutes for those positions, and he _was_ happy for that aspect. Yet, a part of his heart seemed ever darkened. Being only eight years old, he had already seen too much to get hardened inside on the spot.

At that orphanage were roughly thirty-forty kids, but the older ones had moved on and found careers at several academies around the world, he remembered. There were four, if he could recall, and maybe a fifth one if it still wasn't being kept secret. In his dreamland, he fought to remember and he finally came up with them: Balamb, Galbadia, Deling City, Trabia, and the secret base at Esthar, although he had heard stories that the latter was impossible to get into unless you were an Estharian citizen. It was probably the best academy to get into, too.

He was a shy boy, and he knew it yet he felt compelled to deny it and to deny everyone else's opinion. A few of the children, whose names at present escaped him, hung around with him down by the lighthouse or by the beach at night singing songs and roasting marshmallows. He enjoyed their company but had continued to distance himself away from fully opening up to them. He just wasn't that kind of talkative, social person.

Why there was one blond-haired boy, a loudmouth for kinder descriptions, who...

He awoke with a start.

There was movement around him that wasn't human in form. He looked at the corner of his eye and saw a long tail flicker behind a rock. The moon was full on putting the time at well past midnight. He felt a lot better, but his arms were still sore. Adrenaline started pumping into him, and he was surprised at that. He was also worried. Half a day into his journey, and he was faced to faced with a terrible situation.

A dramatic hissing noise emitted behind the rock. A tongue flickered, and then the whole head popped out. A serpentine creature with blue-red markings eyed him hungrily and slithered its way into a crouching position from behind the rock. From the books he had read with an astute fascination back at the orphanage, he recognized this creature to be the Leviathan god-- one of the powerful Guardian Forces of this world. Whilst reading in the hovel's library, he read with great fervor the histories of the twenty great Guardian Forces of this present earth's time. Leviathan, that book said, was a protectorate of the southern seas who purportedly kept a watchful eye either for the benefit of the sailor's or as a midnight snack. Apparantly, the serpent god was devoid of logical reasonings. The distinctive blue and red markings etched all along its body, and its cold yellow eyes were eyeing Squall all up and down. It also, Squall noticed, seemed hesitant to pounce. Probably an eight-year old boy was too small a morsel for its appetite.

Squall grabbed his oar, the only blunt thing he had comically enough, and broke one end off to create somewhat of a jagged edge. Leviathan regarded this with amusement and slithered its body around the boy to show what Squall was up against. The serpent was easily thirty feet long, but Squall was sure the god could make itself bigger if it wanted to. At this point, a sense of fear and tension siezed his nerves, and he stiffened up which was what the serpentine god wanted. Leviathan cocked its head back and jabbed fiercely. Yet, Squall's body loosened unexpectedly. Something inside him calmed his senses and a sense of bravery caught his subconcious. He sidestepped Leviathan's massive head that crashed into his boat, and Squall drove the spike of his oar straight into a vein on the monster's neck. Fresh green blood splurged onto Squall's face temporarily blinding him and sent him to the ground. The serpentine god howled and hissed in pain, caught off guard and deeply disturbed by its frothing wound. Squall frantically wiped the goo off his face, as Leviathan reared up in a mad-attack position. Squall got his eyes free, saw the rearing python, and quickly got up his oar to block. The serpent struck down meaning to impale the little boy. Squall twisted the blunt, blood-drenched weapon just right, and the serpent gashed its right nostril straight on the tip. The force of the impact sent shockwaves throughout Squall's body and rendered him unconscious. Leviathan hurled off him, sending the bloody oar flying into the sky, and hissed into immense pain. Regarding the knocked-out child with malice, it attempted to impale him successfully this time, but a great flash of light hits its abdomen. Turning, the god saw a great fleet of ships approach and instantly let out a nasty hiss. One of the ships hurled another ball of electrical light, but the serpentine god evaded it and plunged into the depths of the ocean, infuriated at its loss to a series of mere humans.

"Get that child on!" the commander of the closest ship barked.

The crew wasted no time for they were extremely interested in the abilities of this small boy who was able to take on a powerful god. The commander was as well, but he was also concerned. The knockout blow was filled, he was sure, with a distinct poison that could have been lethal. "Get that child on!" he exclaimed more fervently.

"Aye, sir, we'll waste no time!"

"Damn right you won't," he said quietly to himself, "this may be our perfect candidate."

A stretcher was brought down to the beach, and five of the crewmembers cautiously placed Squall on the rig before giving the okay. Hauled up the crane, five more crewmembers untied the harness and cautiously wheeled him into the ship's infirmary. The fleet immediately pulled off the island, for as Squall would later find out, he hadn't rowed very far. Indeed, seriously, maybe only a few miles. Various eddies of the ocean had spun him around and landed him near scattered islands of the vast rocky archipelago known as Centra. The poor boy had been tossed in circles for the whole afternoon.

Squall had woken up by the time IV fluids had entered him. All of the crewmembers were astonished by his moves, and he was quick to notice an ensignia on their uniforms. An ensignia that bore the distinct symbol of the Balamb Garden Academy. He was getting somewhere familiar, although he wasn't at first comfortable about it. The commander then came in, smoking a golden pipe as only commanders do. "My dear boy," he said in a haughty accent, "that's some might fine sparring you do. Against a god of all things."

He vaguely remembered the sparring. Something that had to do with an awful lot of blue and red colors. He just looked at the commander inquisitively.

"Commander," the doctor nearest him informed, "the injection ratios are off the chart. His bloodstream is filled with the mitochondria."

"Leviathan's a powerful bastard. Not one to trifle with easily, I do say."

"I fought Leviathan!" Squall shouted, his voice squeaking.

The doctor looked at her superior officer and indicated Squall and the computer.

The commander waved her off. "Don't think I'm not aware of that, Leiutenant. He's a young lad that's got a lot to learn. If he can survive a huge dosage like that and live on afterwards, then there's more than meets the eye at this lad's capabilities."

Squall was looking around, fear and tension gripping him profusely. The air was cold and shrill in the lab, or so he thought. He had not known what had happened to him; only the massive pain and weird pulsing sensation in his veins had recollected in him. When the officer had told him about the Leviathan god, he was very surprised. There's no way he could've fought that monster! But if he was alive?

"He won't remember any of this, you know that?" the doctor questioned, grave concern etched in her voice.

"He doesn't have much of a life. The Estharian army demolished that orphanage and killed all those people. He has no idea who his real parents are, and all of his caretakers are gone."

"Are you talking about the--"

"Save that bull for another time. He's alone in his soul. Of course he won't remember this."

"The use of the god's toxin has a terrible amnesiac effect on people. You of all people have experienced this."

"And I can attest that it works pretty damn well, too."

"Sir, please!"

"Sir me nothing, Leiutenant. This young boy is a natural at combat. He tenses for just a moment when the going gets tough. Then, somehow, he relaxes and cools. Maybe that signifies a depressed lifestyle or that of a natural-born athlete. Either way, he's an enigma-- and a good one to crack!"

"You're sending him to Balamb."

"Immediately."

Squall had barely heard any of the conversation, yet the instant the commander said Balamb thoughts came in flurries and a whole wave of nausea overtook him. He slumped in his bed and passed out. The doctor rushed to provide assistance, but the commander stopped her. "The boy is trifling. He'll be alright."

"Sir!"

"You like to 'Sir' a lot. This is exactly what I expected. Remember, the boy is young, you know."

"At such a young age he cannot be able to survive in the SeeD-training program."

"I'm sure Headmaster Cid would disapprove. He likes meeting a challenge head-on."

The doctor couldn't utter any words.

"This Leonhart kid could be the most definitive candidate this world has ever known. Ten is the minimum age for qualification. This kid is better than the most hardened seventeen-year old at that academy."

"Commander, with all due respect, that's a crock of shit."

"I don't expect to get a promotion out of this."

The doctor looked at the sleeping boy. Finally, she sighed and said, "When do we start?"

"Immediately." In finality, he about-faced and exited the infirmary.

For a week they sailed crossing many a peculiar and breathtaking sight. The young Squall Leonhart, fast approaching his ninth birthday, had recovered from his nausea but not of the events leading up to it-- which he thought was to be expected. The scenery and circumstances were too surreal for him to cognitate, but he relished in its occurrence. A part of him, though, wanted to crawl away in the back of the ship and not be seen. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why this old temptation was always biting him in the butt. He was adept to learn more about what was transpiring around him and what had happened to that Leviathan creature, yet he was compelled inwardly to not press the situations. He was told that he was going to be made into a fighter, of which he had found concern with at first, but he quickly grew acclimated. Being a fighter would fulfill his lone world standard, and he realized he could focus all his energies on his abilities and manuevers. He had been practicing some moves the sailors had taught him and had mastered some parries and blows. The commander was always pleased by what he saw.

He wouldn't find out until later that he had been the unlucky subject to land on Leviathan's worship island (the island most sacred to the god) and he had been the unlucky subject of an impressment program. When he found out both of those things, he found it to be a little amusing.

The fleet of Balamb ships passed by many peculiar waterfalls along the Centra archipelago, waterfalls that glowed green on one side and red on the other. A particular type of algae, the commander explained, coated the inside salt deposits of the archipelago mountain walls causing the land to look rusty like the lands of some great foreign planet. The rusty coating etched into the island streams that fell as waterfalls into the ocean. Green bacteria mated with red fungi coating the inside layer of salt deposits forming a concoction of green and red waterfall.

Squall noticed the commander always held a bottle of gin when he explained things poignantly.

During the third through fifth days of the voyage, the ships were out in open water and saw many species of whale, dolphin and shark. Great big ones with sharp teeth and pointy dorsal fins. Squall didn't think he would ever see something like that.

The seventh day brought a large island in view, and as the crow's nest eagerly assailed, "Commander! The home is in sight!"

"Ah, splendid," the commander chortled, "boy, are you ready to begin your life?"

"Is nine years too much to start?"

""Too little if you ask me."

The island of Balamb was filled on the south with forests and filled on the north with a single large strip of rugged mountains a mile-and-a-half high. The port city of Balamb lay on the southwest corner and was a welcome sight to see for the crew. Squall leaned over the rail and squinted sharply. Beyond the central patch of forests, a lone white tower glinted in the sun. The commander came up beside him, pointed at the structure, and said, "That's the academy."

"Nice," Squall admired leaning back.

"Even nicer in person," he grunted, turning around and shouting, "alright mateys, I want a nice clean deck here, so the Balambians don't notice a rig too shat on by birds!"

"Aye, sir," said some disgruntled sailors.

He turned back to Squall and said quietly, "Lawd knows there's too much shat in this world to see up close and personal, eh?"

Squall laughed and went back inside to get ready for the departure. An intense excitement built up inside him, as he realized that just over a week ago he had been sitting inside the garden of the orphanage contemplating his pitiful existence. If it was still going to be a pitiful existence here at this new Garden, it was going to be much faster-paced.

_A school in the dell_

_White solid steel flaming_

_On the brink of dawn_

The port of Balamb was a quiet town with plenty of seagulls cawing and jabbering at each other. The fish market was bustling down at the wharf, and as Squall and the crew walked across the dock the smell of shrimp and mackeral met their noses with a great passion. Squall's stomach began to ache with the longing of some good tasty fish, but there was business to be done. The commander steered the way over to where the transport vehicles lay to take the hour-long drive north to the academy. The streets were lined with beautifully-carved cobblestone, and the houses were rich salmon colors bright and shiny against the glint of the sea and the brightness of the sun. A couple of cafes, a weapons shop, and the train station made up the bulk of Balamb Port-- or at least as much as Squall could see at this present time. The group went into the auto shop and hopped into a specified transport vehicle. The thing looked like a cross between a humvee and a tank, and it made a lot of noise.

They left the port and plodded off into the wilderness. Unfortunately for Squall, there were no windows in the vehicle, except for up front which was blocked to Squall's view by a partition, and he was getting the feeling that matters were getting serious. He was about to enter a little thing called Boot Camp for the "criminally-insane" people interested in running for SeeD. The driver was a speedy devil, and he managed to get to the school in under forty-five minutes.

The hatch opened up, and the naval commander saluted the Balamb Guardian who opened it. The man (at least Squall presumed it was because of the figure's bulky shape) was heavily clothed and an enormous ornate hat sat on his head. He wore a thick white robe with red stitching and bright gold shoes especially shined for perfection. He carried a knobby staff that looked like it could do some damage, and he didn't seem to be in the friendliest of moods. He simply waved off the commander's salute and looked over his shoulder at Squall instead. "Is this the runt your constituents informed us about?"

The commander hesitantly dropped his salute and replied, "With all due respect, sir, this little one did some extraordinary damage to the water god of all dieties."

Clearly unimpressed, the Guardian grunted, "Water is no match for fire. Ifrit would've scorched the boy before he even knew the god was there."

"Ifrit's not one that should be off a leash, sir. There's great reason for having him chained down in that cave over yonder."

The Guardian waved him off again. "Bring this sack over here."

The Commander shook his head and addressed the nine-year old. "Well, son, this is where we depart." As he looked Squall in the eyes, he winked. "I know you'll do good."

Not sure what to make of it, Squall hopped out of the transport vehicle and stopped in his tracks. The sight of the academy was beyond description. A vast circular dome with a gigantic white steeple plunged in the center. The dome was covered in beautiful glass and crystal and seemed untinged by the effects of weather or time-- a magical effect, which it probably was. The steeple held a fine point at the top with a high-rise feature that must have been the locale of choice for the Headmaster. A massive yellow halo encircled the steeple, as if to offer a service to the gods. All around the school, marvellous oak trees and finely-cut bushes dotted the landscape. The mountain foothills carved the back end of the academy, and it gave the whole look an appealing quality.

The sound of the transport vehicle broke him out of his reverie, and he turned sharply to see it depart on its rapid course back to the port. Turning back, the Guardian now joined by two more who seemed to have materialized out of the blue beared down on him like a laser from God. An angry but churning look came across the Guardian's eyes, and he gestured wildly to the main entrance. "Let's go, recruit, we haven't got all day."

The two additionals covered Squall's back to prevent any means of escape and propelled him towards the entrance.

The great gates opened up, and a great courtyard met his view. A large fountain with a dolphin carved in limestone sat in the foreground overlooking a large grassy meadow. The commons area, he thought, a place where at this moment a squad of SeeD members were drilling. A stony walkway left the garden and entered the main plazas where seven large crystalline buildings lay in an overaching semi-circle. Separated from the bridges and walkways was a large ivory tower high atop a man-made lake. It seemed to be a very important building.

The Guardians wasted no time. They whisked him away down through the courtyard, across the commons, and onto the plaza bridges. The crowd on the meadow watched them briefly and seemed to joke a bit about the upcoming fun the new one would have. The head Guardian pointed to the farthest-most building on the eastern side, and his subordinates steered Squall there. The air had grown stiff, and the relaxation had died down; Squall realized that he was probably not going to have too much fun for a little while. The farthest-most building was a large atrium in the front connecting to an even larger auditorium in the back. He was vaguely aware of dense plants growing inside it. He would become much more familiar with it later on.

Several other kids, roughly the same age as himself, were waiting inside the atrium, looking all the more nervous and pale as he began to feel. It looked like a new squad was about to be formed. The majority were boys, but a few girls hung in the small three-dozen crowd. Some looked up at him as the Guardians hunkered him down in a pre-determined spot and then left the building as quickly as they had come in. The air was moot and stale, and he could hardly breathe. The kids refused to make a sound; an unspoken feeling came that if conversation was heard bad things could follow. After a few minutes, he realized they were in a formation, and he was in the front row and apparantly in the adjutant's position. A worthy choice, even if he didn't really want it.

The waiting game would be unbearable at this point, but he was used to silence and patience even at this early of an age. Glancing around, he couldn't help but realize three familiar faces-- two boy's and a girl's-- and they seemed to notice him as well. The other thirty-three were unfamiliar but equally interesting characters. What did it take to be a selected member for the academy?

The reverie was broken. The atrium doors slammed open, and a couple Guardians trailed a harsh-looking man with a guant figure and a eyepatch over his right eye. A nasty scar trailed out of it like a scar of ringworm. The man's voice was gruff when he spoke: "There will be no talking unless one is spoken to."

Seemed an obvious given. The formation remained still.

He eyed the children one-by-one, seeming to take in their abilities as if by some supernatural power. Finally, displeased at something, he snorted, "A bunch of rainbows. A lot filled with too many baggage. This won't be an easy seven years for you."

Some in the formation drew in breath. Squall blinked once and kept his pose.

The one-eyed man started slowly walking around the group. "Some of you are out-of -shape. Some of you are too fit for your own age." He stopped in front of a recruit who was locking his knees. "Some of you do not know proper procedure." He kicked the boy's shins, brought a hand to steady the kid's chest, and stood him back to a standing posture. "Lock your knees, and you'll never make it to the end. You just might lose a leg in the process." The boy started whimpering a little bit. The instructor, not entirely satisfied yet, lifted his eyepatch a gaping pus-filled hole. "The lost memory of a limb never hurt anyone, son."

Addressing the formation as a whole, he shouted, "Straighten up ladies and gentlemen. You are in SeeD now, Balamb's finest protectorates. You had two choices to pick in this academy: militarization or that damned foul humanities department. God knows this devil piece of rock needs another poet magna cum laude. Anyone with a brain would choose this corps, and anyone with a brain would think twice not to cross me. I have seen things that no one in here has ever seen before. Things on islands and in forests and deep beneath the earth's surface thousands of miles away." He looked over at Squall. "You the one they call Leonhart, boy?"

Squall stiffly shook his head. "Sir."

The one-eyed man sucked in air. "Do not 'Sir' me, recruit! I am a Chief! Chiefs are underpaid, mere rubbish to the harpy officers that instruct here.... even though I've seen more action than probably all of them combined, ha! My name is Stryker, and you all will address me as Chief Stryker, is that clear?!"

They all responded in affirmative.

"Leonhart, you have been chosen as the adjutant for this squad, since records claim you fought a water god. Double-checking it for my own personal tastes, I saw that it was the Guardian Force Leviathan, a feat that I can acknowledge as something of a worthiness. Do not disappoint me, recruit, or you'll lose that position."

"Er.. yes Chief." He didn't really care about the position. Leadership and authority were already starting to annoy him.

Stryker clicked his heels, and the Guardians encircled the formation. "You now will check into your proper clothes, your immunizations, and your utmost important duties. I trust you lot don't know how to march. Well, I can assure you you'll know soon enough. Now, watch me do a right-face." Standing at attention, he moved his feet in a swift pattern to place his body to his immediate right. "Very simple, no? Alright, recruits, Right-face!"

Some, including Squall, executed a decent-not perfect- move. Others, caught off guard, hesitated and threw the whole rhythm off. Still others mimicked him and did a Left-face instead.

"Wow, that's really shitty. Face me!"

They hobbled back at attention facing him.

"Right-face!"

More did it correctly, but some still failed (including the boy who had locked his knees earlier).

"Shitty! Face me."

"Right-face!"

More, but not all.

"Again, Right-face!" and then "Right-face!" and then "Right-face!" and a final "Right-face!" The whole squad finally did it.

"Wow, that's wonderful recruits. Maybe seven _is_ your lucky fucking number! Now let's get a little more basic, so you prunes don't go too ripe. Marching is as easy as walking, except it's not walking, and it's not too easy at first. But then again I'm just bull-shitting you. Does everyone know how to walk?"

"Yes, Chief," someone answered.

"That was a rhetorical statement, recruit. Do you answer rhetorical statements, recruit?"

Unsure to answer, the boy said nothing and was met with a sigh. "Wow, you're as bright as fucking mud, recruit, we'll find out soon enough if you know even how to walk. Walking is one foot followed by another. Marching is the same thing. Except not really. You start off with the left foot, and always the left foot. Now why is that, recruit?" He was facing a female recruit.

"P-Proper procedure, Chief?"

"Proper procedure, hell no! I have no idea why you start with the left foot. Oh wait a minute, yes I do! You start off with the left foot, because we tell you to start off with the left foot. If you don't it makes your life fucking miserable! In marching, you go left-right. Left-right. Left-right-left. Over and over and over again. It's a rhyhthm thing. Repetition over and over and over again. You screw up once, and the whole rhythm is thrown off, making you look like a yellow-bellied, pig-eyed sonofabitch. Is that understood?!"

"Yes, Chief!!"

"Now that wasn't rhetorical. Good job, we're getting somewhere. Jeezum Crow. Alright, adjutant, lead your squad into that storage room. Left-right-left!"

Squall led the group in a continuous march across the great atrium into the storage room, the sounds of their shoes making loud echoes up into the arching ceiling. Louder voices came from Stryker and the Guardians, though. Apparantly, some of the recruits were throwing off the rhythm-- someone stepped off with the right foot.

The group was forced to repeat the marching exercise about... nine times before they were finally able to enter the storage room. Like cattle ready to be butchered in a fly-ridden stockhouse, the instructors filed each of the thirty-six into respective cubby-holes. The storage room was filled with boxes and casings that contained uniforms, shoes, toiletries, and dog tags. The seven girls filed into a separate room and received additional articles for future use in their later life. The "rainbow" outfits Squall and his squad had worn were shed and tossed into a large incinerator. Who really was going to receive a dusty yellow shirt anyway? In its place, he strapped on a dark blue long-sleeved collared shirt and dark blue leather pants. Shiny charcoal shoes and nickel dog tags bearing his name, date-of-birth, and birth sign (why birth sign, he wondered) completed the look of SeeD recruit-- not quite a SeeD and not quite a civilian, a piece of horse manure stuck in the dead center.

SeeD was Balamb's special military unit. Galbadia and Trabia had similar but different coded programs. All three consisted of the same exercises, the same drills, and the same harsh treatment. It had been morning when Squall had arrived at the academy. By the time, the squad was clothed, checked for medical purposes, taken several aptitude and ability tests, and had repeated basic preliminary drills to the point of insanity the sun had died away for several hours. Fatigue had drenched the children, and they were soon to be put to sleep in their respective dormitories. Before they departed for a little slumber, they were told about the watchman duties and how everyone would take turns keeping watch. Watch, it seemed, was a very important duty for you never knew who could sneak up on your camp, barrack, or ship and slit your throat. They also found that throughout the years of training, their days would be filled with drill, class, and limited hours of free time. As they grew older, their freedoms would increase as their experiences would increase. By the time they were seventeen and able to complete the Final Exam, they could embark on missions, ambassadorships, and academy sponsors.

But at the ages of nine or ten, they were just pitiful small fry.

The building was a huge two-story structure, housing the boys on the bottom and the girls on top. Three beds to a room with a kitchen, studio, and private bath. The room was to be properly kept and tidy, litter-free, and a properly-made bed. No alcohol as well-- the legal drinking age was sixteen and the older kids were a bit more adventurous than the Guardians approved of. Squall found his roommates to be two blond-haired boys, each with different attitudes encircling them. A strange euphoric feeling surrounded them; Squall seemed to have a vague impression of having run into them before. They likewise felt a similar impression, but neither of the three pursued for any such logical explanation. The smaller blondie was a bright-eyed energetic lad by the name of Zell Dincht. He seemed to crave hotdogs with an obsessive-compulsive fashion, as Squall found out later on his trips to the cafeteria. Zell said he grew up in the port of Balamb with the Dinchts, a fish family from the town of Dollet further west. He said he loved hotdogs because he couldn't stand the smell of fish anymore. Squall's other roommate was by far more interesting and more disturbing. The taller blondie was Seifer Almassy. He kept his hair short and buzzed, and his eyes were a cold blue. He frowned alot, but his smile would light up whenever a recruit failed at a certain task. Once or twice, his mocking caught the attention of the instructors, and it didn't end so well after that. The Headmaster's office was notified on several occasions of the misbehavior.

The years passed in a flash. Squall lived up to Stryker's wishes and became an envied adjutant. Their squad, now known as Stryke Team Alpha or S.T. Alpha, was the best up-and-coming corps in the school. Even the most hapless cadet (because of their age and ascent, they were now officalized as cadets) had wisened to a stern and diligent member of the team. Squall now carried a bright red flag with the symbol of a griffin on it in bright gold stitching. The griffin had become his favorite monster of lore. The years had brought him excellent skills in combat training and even a foray into magical arts: the basic elements of fire, ice, earth, and water. He had surpassed expectations and reluctances to perfect the art of the most coveted academy weapon: the gunblade.

The gunblade was a crucial and difficult weapon to handle; only a couple, if any, cadets ever got a chance to properly use it. Through his free time, Squall managed to acquire subscriptions to a "Weapons Mon Monthly" magazine. In those rags, he learned of various parts around the world that he could customize a simple blade to make it more powerful. The parts were gun parts, which brought the sword to a deadlier effect. You could launch a shell to trigger just right at the break of impact on a target, and a magnificent gunshot would occur staggering the opponent backwards-- if not severely injuring him. Squall was just all googly-eyed over it. Through practice he had managed to pull off the maneuver at age fifteen, the youngest anyone at Balamb ever did it. Shortly afterwards, a second cadet did it with a slightly different gunblade that caused the whole school to go into a frenzied riot. The relationships of these two gunblade owners would soon be head-to-head.

Approaching his sixteenth birthday, Squall had gained enormous freedom, enough to take a jaunt at monster-killing around the hills outside of the school and enough to wear his own style of clothing. He had grown particularly fond of leather jackets, envisioning them as a sense of "coolness". He chose one that was dark brown and carried a faux mink ruffle around the collar. He chose dark leather pants. He was forced to wear two red studded belts to hold the scabbard of his sword, since the gunblade was a heavy piece of carbonite. As the symbol of his flag burned in his heart, he took a weekend trip down to Balamb and bought an intricate silver necklace of a griffin's head. The majestic look of the beast filled him with a sense of pride-- a sort of Lionheart.

Due to certain happenstances in the dormitories, Squall and Zell had to say goodbye to their third mate. The incident, since he was a year older than them, had to involve alcohol. He had over the years drifted away from the drills, and being of exceptional combat talent, had formed a "Disciplinary Committee" with two other miscreant cadets Fujin and Raijin. Their job was supposedly to corral troubling students and correct their misjudgments; the trio's actions however sometimes led to more misjudgments taking place.

Squall left the dorms one sunny afternoon and entered the atrium where almost seven years ago he had began his trial. A seasoned veteran recruit he had gained accessed into the far larger second half of the massive building. It was a jungle setting with stone ruins to give it flavor. It was filled with exotic plant and animal species from around the world to teach the students about the different elements that they would find once they graduated successfully in one piece in the Final Exam. Several of the plant and animal species were parasitic and abnormal anomalies that caused harm to anybody that dared to provoke its path. There was one particularly vicious creature that only the Guardians could overcome-- or so they claimed. It was a gigantic dinosaur. Silly, huh? Not up close. The damn thing was a menace to people just interested in studying up on some biology. It was all bark _and_ all bite. The jaws of the beast were steel-crushing monstrosities.

Yet, Squall entered it regardless. It was good training for the real test to come in the next few months. He was halfway into his sixteenth year at this stage. The final test was clawing at the back of his mind like a virulent fury. He entered the large jungle auditorium and found Siefer Almassy sitting on a tree stump, his Hyperion gunblade out stretched on his knees. His blade was lighter and swifter than Squall's, yet the barrel of his gun was sawn-off allowing for only small-to-medium burst of gunfire when his trigger rolled off the cusp. Unlike Squall's Rough Divide gray carbonite, the Hyperion was turquiose liquid steel and as light as a feather-- well, a feather tied down by a few small rocks, but who's counting for semantics? The miscreant boy was into his seventeenth year and should have graduated full on into SeeD career mode, but the "should have" figured in heavily in his case. After two attempts, he still didn't seem to show any worries about the backfires. His capabilities with the weapon in his hand were only slightly outmatched by the teen standing in front of him. Seifer had traded his knappy blue recruit suit for a look that he proclaimed "spelled out the true nature of a Disciplinary Committee". He wore a gray trenchcoat with a dark blue vest underneath that carried a great white cross to cover his chest. He had a thing for crosses for he had a red one on both of his sleeves. His blond hair was still in a buzz cut and more pronounced than his former roommate's; Squall had let his brown hair grow out into a thick but stylish wave that spiked in the back. He hardly even noticed it most of the time.

As Squall drew near, the sounds of his shoes on the earth seemed to startle his former roommate. Seifer looked at him and asked, puzzled, "You always come here?"

"Every chance I get. Why?"

"You're either in the library studying up on shit, or you're in here muddling around with little forest creatures." He stood up and pulled out a small bottle of gin from his inside pocket. Taking a swig, he chided, "You should really get out more."

"I get out of the dorm every chance I get."

"Pah," he said, taking another swig, "there's that cute little pig-tailed girl with the nice tooshie at the library. How bout you knock off the bookie stuff and start acting like you've grown hair down there."

Shaking his head, Squall attempted to walk past his musing partner-- partner, for anyone who perfected the art of the gunblade was deemed a worthy partner regardless of each other's personality. "Yeah, and show her a little bit of 'discipline' from the Disciplinary Committee."

Seifer grinned with child-like gawking, "That's always the best part." Noticing him leaving, he quickly added, "your day cannot be so dreary and planned out, now."

Squall attempted to walk faster, but Seifer was about four inches taller and had longer legs and he easily caught up to him. "Come now, Squall, let me tell you a little bit about the birds and the bees, and of course me as well. Boy, I've got a lot to tell on that part." He held his gunblade, checked the sights on it, and looked down the shaft at the bright illuminescent turquoise glow.

Squall sighed. Seifer was usually a pushover, but whenever he got giddy like this, Squall knew that something was up. "Well, let me hear it then."

"Oh hold on." Seifer took a big deep breath. "I have met the most extraordinary girl I have ever seen, though I don't know if I'll stay with her for long."

"Oh gee, that's a shame."

"Eh, I guess it is. She's involved in a big-time underground resistance movement on the continent west of here."

"A long-distance relationship?"

"Very long-distance. That's the problem."

"What's her name?"

"Names! The hell do you care about names for? You probably don't want to even know _my _name."

"Well that goes without saying."

"Oh, coy. I met her in Timber on one of my searches for the Holy Grail of alcohols. Timber's such a beat, only carrying dry goods and all."

"So she's really something?"

"Headstrong, but pretty on the eyes. See, that's what you need. I'm starting to think you're some kind of queer or something. Your actions are always so private and lonesome."

"I prefer to keep it that way. Authority and leadership are best reserved for those that can earn it and keep it."

Seifer walked in front of him and raised his hands up in the air. "Well, you looking at him."

Squall smirked and then caught the flash out the corner of his eye. A slug-like caterpillar with vicious yellow and beady orange eyes sprang out of the bushes. Seifer watched as Squall pulled his gunblade out, dodge the caterpillar's slimy sprats of acidic ooze, and chop the creature mercilessly in half. The sluggish parasite flopped in two sickly pieces over the earth.

Seifer barely smiled shaking his head. "Good, but there are two of them." Pointing his blade to his right, the trigger went off and a buckshot exploded off the blade and straight into the beady eyes of another caterpillar right behind Squall.

Squall looked at the dead pest and said, "You think I wasn't ready for that?"

"Hmph, how about the rest of them?"

The two cadets looked around and saw dozens of eyes poking out of bushes and behind some trees. A grotesque viney plant eyed them from atop a runish tower further south from them. Squall looked at Seifer before attacking. "I think you made too much noise!"

"Better me than your pansy voice!"

Both blades set to work on the loathsome species. Helplessly the little sluggish animals could not attack with their acidic spittle in enough time. One tried vainly to bite the neck of Seifer, but a loud gunshot blast from Squall's blade blew the caterpillar into millions of pieces caking their clothes in greenish-orange goo. A loud thump hit the earth and the disgusting vine plant crawled toward them, brambly vines itching to cut their bodies to shreds. Seifer ducked a couple swipes and chopped a few of them off, while Squall hopped backwards and sent a raging fireball from the palm of his hand. He had grasped the basics of fire and ice elementals, and the tingly feeling against his palm as the fire irradiated a bright light always made him feel good. The fiery ball pierced the defenses of the plant and scorched its abdomen blackened burned. Staggering from the blow, it didn't see Seifer swing the fatal blow but it watched its own body be sawed in half.

The small little battle brought only a meager reward time for a loud roar deafened the premises. Crashing the small ruins came that godawful dinosaur pissed off royal because the boys were making too loud of a noise.

Seifer stopped smiling. "Come on, man, this bastard's a damn hangover if I ever saw one."

Both of them barely avoided a swipe of its powerful tail that sent a deafening shockwave throughout the auditorium. It followed them as they winded their way through the dense underbrush, gnashing at their heels. Both of them stalled it several times with short fire bursts from their palms causing it to stumble momentarily. The auditorium was two stories tall with a basement underneath. They found the hatch to get to the lowest tier, and as Seifer distracted the monstosity, Squall opened the hatch and both jumped down to a safer void all the while hearing the T-Rexaur creature howl in anger.

They landed in a puddle of water from a broken valve bad maintenance had left unchecked. The air was even thicker than inside the jungle auditorium, and the scenery was a lot more cramped. Letting the echoes of the dinosaur's roar die down, they navigated the winding tunnels beneath the earth floor and found a separate hatch leading up that the engineers used. They climbed up into an annex of the auditorium safely away from the danger of the hulking prehistoric creature. Safe, sound, and breathing a little better, Seifer seemed anxious to continue the prior conversation. "So, like I said earlier, you need to broaden your horizons."

Squall grunted angrily, clenching his gloved hand. "You need to broaden your horizons."

"Shoot, fool, I could run circles around you. Your broodiness is like a disease, man. All you ever do is drill, sleep, and eat. And when you're free you study up on shit. Why are you such a lone wolf?"

"Makes the day go by that much more cleaner."

"A real bore."

"You're a fucking real bore."

Seifer grinned, a gesture that infuriated Squall, and held out his hand mockingly. "Aw, uh-oh, someone's getting mad."

"Fuck off, you piece of shit. You're coming in here on purpose to mess around with my schedule."

"Taking too much offense, huh. I like that. Show us a side of you that comes out in fighting."

"Fighting other cadets is against the code of conduct, but you're doing a whole lot to throw that creed out the window."

"If that creed's so easily broken, you'd do well to study up some more, brother."

"You're about as much as an anomaly as these damned jungle creatures."

Seifer smirked. "A lot of hooing and hawing coming from Mr. Tightwad over here. Hasn't been laid in... what's that?... or right Never!"

Squall drew his weapon and sized it up Seifer's neck.

Almassy studied Squall some more and slowly drew his blade out. "I respect you Squall and your abilities. But if there's one thing I've learned here is that anger ruins your aptitudes and abilities."

Squall hit Seifer's weapon aside in order to get a better view of his face. "Prove to me that that's the case then." Angrily, he jabbed his blade into Seifer's stomach but was blocked. Both blades clanged against each other, their hits echoing in the thick, humid jungle air. Squall spun around swinging his heavy sword like a halberd with the agility of a feather falling through the air. Every swing was blocked by Seifer's Hyperion. The Rough Divide was stronger and heavier, though, and each crushing weighted blow broke flecks and pieces off of Seifer's weapon forcing him several times to back up into a tree. He would duck just in time as Squall's swipe would nearly sever a tree in half. The leather jacket-wearing cadet had been pressed into a hallucinogenic frenzy, and he delivered harsher and harsher swings finally knocking Seifer off balance. A small moment of tension and fear masked his purveying smile; and quickly, without thinking, while backed up in a tight corner he unleashed a fire bolt from his palm that Squall missed entirely. The bolt smacked him right in the chest, and an instant flash of fire consumed a health drain on him. Squall staggared backwards and grew dizzy giving Seifer ample enough time to catch his breath. Except he was mad now. Mad at always losing little heated battles to Squall... all the time. He stood up abruptly, ignored the blood rushing up to his brain in that instant euphoric feeling, took his blade and raised it high in the air. Squall looked up just in time to see it come crashing down. The turquiose sword cut his face up from the space between his brows down the left side of his nose, sparing his left eye by a hair's breadth.

Instant pain rocketed Squall's nerves, and he lay crouched there for some time reeling in the godawful swaying. Seifer brought his blood-soaked blade up close to his head, and in his mad sense looked ready to jab a second and fatal time. Squall's paralyzed condition stopped him, and the weight of a ton of bricks seemed to crash on his head. He lowered his weapon, his mouth hung and remained open, and he was at a loss for words. Still barely aware of things, Squall's left eye seemed to close up on him, but his right eye found Seifer and focused intently on him. His hand gripped the hilt of the Rough Divide, his teeth gritted harshly, and his mind reacted much more slowly than his body did. Before Seifer could react quickly enough, Squall leapt forward and slashed his blade across Seifer's face ripping the exact same wound on the opposite side of the nose. Seifer stumbled back into a tree, and that was the last sight Squall saw.

He blacked out and fell on his face into the dirt.


	3. The Tests of SeeD

_Alas the fierce pain_

_A savage snake-like slashing_

_Furthers the fury_

The hot pain was throbbing his temples and heating up around the left side of his nose. He tried hard to think, but his brain had gone numb for an insurmountable amount of time. He was currently in the infirmary, he reasoned after momentarily lapsing into consciousness before falling back into the black depths of incapacity. The pain circled him like a thousand harpies all screaming their merciless chant and laughing as he swam in his own murky demise. The doctors were pumping fluids in him, and from time to time he felt little bursts of energy pulsating in his veins keeping him alive. Over several hours, he gradually recalled the events prior to his extraordinary wound and finally saw Seifer once again bring the blade down and crush his skull with one deft move.

He awoke and saw a glaring flourescent lightbulb on the ceiling. Somebody pushed it away, after noticing Squall blink furiously into it. The needles were out of him, and parts of his head were bandaged; he stiffly reached up and instinctively touched the afflicted area of his face. A slight soreness and pain reacted to his pressing finger, and he slowly poked and traced the slick edge of the scar. Once his eyes adjusted to the intensely bright room, he noticed he was wearing a hospital gown and that it was mighty drafty inside the room. An annoying blue tag was on his right wrist reading his name: _Squall Leonhart._ and his code number: _SeeD candidate A No.41269._ He wriggled his wrist, watching the band loosely follow his movements, and he smiled to know that he was still alive and aware of his faculties.

"How are you feeling?" A soft, caring voice spoke up.

He looked up at the voice and saw that it belonged to Dr. Kadowaki, the head medic. She was a sweet elder of the academy, always looking to make the Balamb residents feel a little more at peace with the rest of the world. With never a bad remark to make, she was always good for pouring out your life worries to. At this present moment, though, Squall was ready to leave and maybe have a talk with the psychotic bastard who ruined his face. He could see it in the mirror on the side. Ignoring her inquiry, he instead focused on his face and saw that the scar was permanent. It was so deep and penetrating from the brow down almost to his upper lip that no amount of his lifetime could fully heal the mark. He suspected Seifer had the same result and probably felt the same way. He also was angry and appalled by his appearance. The doctor's hand touched his shoulder and he flinched.

Dr. Kadowaki sighed and shook her head. She returned to her inquiry with her hands on her hips. "How are you feeling?"

Not looking at her, he replied, "Ok, I guess."

"I'm sure." Cupping his chin in her hand, she forced him to look at her. Studying his scar up and down, brows furling as she studied, she slowly loosened the bandages and allowed his skin to breathe. Applying a wet towel she gently cooled his sweaty forehead and the back of his scalp. "Take it easy next time, you hear? Your face was all bloody and sandy when the Guardians brought you in here."

Squall didn't reply, except for a small grunt. He didn't want her sweetness to get to him.

She withdrew her hand and allowed him to sit up with his back against the propped-up bed. "It seems as if your eyes are focusing back to normal," she said taking another study of him. Finally, she nodded, and smiled. "You should be fine. Say your name for me."

Squall leaned back and raised an eyebrow. "You know that, already."

"Maybe I'm a new doctor. Never seen you before."

"Leonhart. Squall Leonhart."

Her hands still on her hips like an old matron, she nodded. "That's good. You know, Squall, you really should take it easy in training. Next time you won't be so lucky."

"Tell that to Seifer."

She nodded and actually frowned in response. "That Seifer... he won't listen to anyone."

"How is he?"

"He recovered a little quicker than you, but you left him a nasty little mark, too. On the opposite side, but just as brutal. He refused to rest for a couple more days, saying that it was against his conscious to be cooped up in a dank hospital room. I certainly don't think these rooms are 'dank', but he left. He didn't ask about you."

"Didn't expect him to."

"The Guardians are not pressing charges, and the Headmaster was actually rather pleased saying it's the most fun he's seen out of you two in a while."

"Fun times."

"Why don't you just ignore him, Squall. Seifer's an instigator. He should be a SeeD cadet now. I just don't understand it sometimes. He's going for his third try when you do your first in the next two months."

"I can't just run away, doctor."

Her frown increased, and she dropped her hands to her side. "You want to be cool? Don't get hurt in the process, then."

Squall blinked and then lowered his head. "I didn't mean it like that, doctor, but it's my personal problem and nobody else's."

"Be that as it may then." She suddenly thought of something and cocked her head to one side. "Let's see, your instructor is..." she thought a little bit "Quistis! Quistis Trepe." She heard him groan a few seconds and then continued. "She's been actually contacting this place for quite a while."

_I bet she has. She's into me a little bit._ He thought. Quistis had been the other child back in his Stryke Team Alpha squad that he had thought was familiar. She was a year older than him, like Seifer, and she had progressed a little more faster in the book work than he had allowing her to take and pass the SeeD exam as well as the SeeD instructorship. Now, as one of the youngest Balamb instructors, she was in charge of gearing up possible graduating cadets like Squall, Seifer, and Zell to take the exam assuming they were prepared to do it. All Squall had left to do was to take the final written exam, the final field exam, and then the Final Exam-- that's a shitload of finals.

"I'll call her now," Dr. Kadowaki said, breaking his thoughts, "just wait here a minute. She's got your clothes, so you don't have to walk around in that outfit if you don't want to."

"I think the wind feels nice."

Her smile came back a little, but she was still peeved at him. Turning she picked up the phone and dialed some numbers, and he leaned back farther, put a hand on his forehead, and closed his eyes. He heard her talk to Quistis, "Quistis, come get your student.... Yes, yes... His injury's not serious, it'll probably leave a scar..... Right. Now please come get him. Thanks, bye."

He started to zone out a little bit, as she brought the phone down and left the room over to her office. His fist tightened up as he thought about Seifer and how much he hated the motherfucker. He loosened it, though, for he felt a presence watching him. He took his hand from his face and turned to his right.

"Squall.... so we meet again." A pretty girl with short brown hair, a calm face, and white flowing dress greeted him through the glass window of the adjacent room. She wore a dark green shawl over her dress, and her smile was radiant causing her pretty brown eyes to sparkle. Before he could reply, she turned and headed out the door, not saying anything else. Her voice and face struck a nagging, familiar chord to him, but maybe because of his pain and soreness he could not distinguish who she was.

Yet, he couldn't think longer for the door opened and in walked the blond goddess. Or so she and her throng of admirers liked to be called. She was a beautiful eighteen-year old, with long blonde hair fashioned in an eye-catching ponytail. She wore thin-framed glasses over grayish-blue eyes, and her pale white skin shone a good contrast to her blond hair. The mark of the female SeeD uniform looked great on her, too. Male SeeDs wore form-fitting three-piece suits that were a navy blue coat over a light blue vest, navy blue pants, and charcoal gray shoes polished to perfection. Female SeeDs wore a form-fitting navy blue jacket with gold trimming and a navy blue skirt that allowed them to show off either nylons or skin covered by knee-high high heel boots. Now that's a sexy look, if you think about it. At this moment, though, Squall wasn't thinking about that. In fact, he hardly ever thought about things like that. Semantics and observations were secondary studies for him, which gave him the dubious distinction of being an anti-social member of society. He smiled when people called him that.

As the doors closed behind her, Quistis looked at him, looked at his scar, and shook her head with a knowing attitude. Walking slowly to his bed, she sighed, "I knew it'd be either you or Seifer." In her hands were his clothes, and the scabbard containing his sword was on a purse around her shoulder. She dumped his things on his chest and forced him up. "Come on, you big lummox, you've wasted a full week."

His eyes widened. "A whole week?"

"That's what the calendar says."

"Any way you can turn it back."

"Oh, I'd so love to. Go into the bathroom and put these on. Homeroom starts in less than an hour."

He sighed, grabbed his things, and changed in the other room. She folded her arms, waited until he was changed, and then got ready to nag. "You know how much trouble a regular cadet here would be in by this point."

He grabbed the hilt of his gunblade and pulled the sword out a little bit. The dried blood from Seifer's face still tinged the silver metal. He had a lot of cleaning to do.

"Headmaster Cid," she continued as if he cared to listen, "is the one who pulled out the stops. You should really be thanking him."

He closed the hilt in the scabbard. "Didn't you say homeroom starts soon."

"Yes, it does." She pouted and brought her lip up to sneer. Standing, she walked out the door briskly, and he followed.

Yet, she couldn't stay pouting with him for long. He fascinated her too much. They walked down the length of the infirmary walkway, heading for the main island of the academy where the headmaster's office and the classrooms were located, and she started to stray back behind him cautiously admiring him as he walked completely forward-- mind wrapped in innumerable things. She, like him to her earlier, seemed to recognize him all those years ago but she couldn't trace the reasons for that feeling. As she matured and developed biologically, she thought it was an easy thing to recognize because of his superior skills in combat and training. He wasn't as reckless as Seifer, far from it. The quickness he had always amazed her, and she knew his studies were far superior to most. His personality, though, bothered her but made her ever more curious each day.

They walked in silence, but like an annoying biting fly, his silence and the obvious mind-crunching ideas buzzing in his brain made her question him. She knew what would be the end result, for it wasn't the first time she pestered him. "Is there something on your mind?"

Her voice was too sweet for him. He tensed up a little bit and refused to reply. They walked some more in silence, passing some students who gawked at the sight of Squall's scar. The sounds of his and her footsteps in the covered walkway got to him eventually. "Not r-"

"Not really." She replied over him, making him stop in his tracks. He turned to see her laughing several feet behind him. Tensing up a little more, he asked, "What's so funny?"

"I'm just a little happy," she said. She cocked her head and added, "I just feel like I'm beginning to understand my student a little. A guy bent on one particular goal in mind. You have to appreciate someone who focuses all his energies on one thing in life, right?"

He loosened up a bit. "I'm more complex than you think."

"Hmmph. Then tell me. Tell me more about yourself." Her face was stern for a moment, making his tense up again. As she walked toward him though he loosened again and replied, "It's none of your--"

"--business?" she finished. Laughing, she walked past him and headed for the homeroom.

Shaking his head, he followed and passed by more gawking kids who apparantly had never seen someone with a battlescar before. The day was going perfectly well for him, it seemed.

He was nearing the end of his schooling, and the final written exam was close at hand allowing him the prerequisite of entering the Fire Cavern test. Homeroom was a standard lecture hall stuck up on the second floor of the massive ivory tower in the center of Balamb Garden. The campus commons had not changed in the seven years he had been here; the same manicured lawns and clean decks of the walkways were as fresh and nuanced as they were when he was even more fresh-faced than he was now. He had seen new squads being recruited in, and he had seen old squads depart. He couldn't recall how many times he saw old Chief Stryker strutt his way out in front of a group of thirty-forty recruits and cadets during his time here, and he was certainly glad to have been a part of it. The same could be said for Quistis, for she even perfected the memories by advancing far quickly than most girls did at the academy.

As the weeks leading up to the written exam passed, Squall met Seifer again once and was shocked by the degree of which his sword had made contact on Seifer. The scar on the right side of his nose was very deep, and it was obvious that Seifer did not like it. Yet, he was more than satisfied, though. He had finally broke even with his opponent; he was so happy that he declared himself King of the Disciplinary Committee-- a title that sounded important anyway. Their first meeting post-battle was somewhat anticlimactic, neither one of them willing to give in to each other's adeptness at blade skills. Gradually, though, they seemed to form an unspoken apology although it was clear the ceasefire was a temporary hold.

The day finally came when all the students began to quiver. The written exam knocked on everybody's (or every person involved in graduation) door, and Homeroom was a mess of anxiety. Squall sat in his seat and heard the worries and chattering teeth:

"What do you think the first question's gonna be?"

"I think it's gonna talk about the Sorceress War, or the crisis in Dollet, or something."

"You don't know, you putz!"

"Neither do you, you'll probably fail, Jenkins."

"I heard all the cute girls get ten extra points on their final score."

Squall shook his head and smiled. He recognized that he had a little bit of arrogance about him, since he felt more than a hundred percent confident that he would be not only the first person done but the only person with a perfect grade. The instructors burst through the doors, and everybody shut their mouths. The Guardians flanking the instructors took the stacks of exam papers and started filing out to each row of the auditorium. A hundred and twenty cadets were set to graduate, and almost all of them were biting their pencils like mad at the sight of the first hurdle. Once the papers slammed down in front of Squall's seat, he took one look and instantly felt good.

_**Question 1: **__How is it possible to junction magic to one's abilities?_

_a. By dreaming in your sleep_

_b. By appropriating the correct Guardian Force_

_c. By puchasing quantities at a local shoppe_

_Explain your answer. (Worth ten points total)._

Squall had to wonder sometimes how incompetent someone had to be to not get this first question right. He reasoned that if you could somehow acquire and junction magic from your dreams in your sleep, why wouldn't you also acquire and junction some means of fighting world war, hunger, and poverty as well? He knew at least ten of his classmates would select option A. C was tricky, because you could buy some things at shoppes-- that were actually supplemental items to magic elements, not magic per se. Being already familiar with the Guardian Forces at an early age, he knew they were the ones that supplied the magic. His conflict with Leviathan at age nine proved beneficial to his training. He had since established contracts with two other gods-- the thunderous bird Quetzacotyl and the ice queen Shiva. Both had imbued him with great skill in the thunder and ice magicka. It seemed, though, that everytime he used them he felt a little sick afterwards-- as if a part of him was being drained. He appreciated their usages, and he felt that it was a good type of drug. If there ever was a good type.

_**Question 2:**__ How many continents are on this planet, and what are theirnames?_

_a. 3: Deling, Centra, Esthar_

_b. 4: Deling, Centra, Esthar, Trabia_

_c. 5: Deling, Centra, Esthar, Trabia, Galbadia_

Another trick question, because the western landmass had two. The answer was C.

_**Question 3:**__ Name the commander-in-chief of Deling City, and describe his duties and his supposed recognition. (Worth twenty points total)._

General Carroway was the commander-in-chief of Deling City-- a metropolis ruled under the autocratic control of the Deling Guard. A revolution had happened decades earlier that caused a schism to develop between big business elites of the aristocracy and the starving middle class. The Deling Guard was not Deling's military unit but rather a militia of the poor that brought up from the depths of its ranks Mr. Carroway, a charasmatic figure fluidly versed in the arts of war. He was recognized for splitting the wealth distribution equally from the rich few down to the swelling middle-to-lower class, and he was recognized for making a semi-loose ceasefire with the Galbadians. Carrowary was in charge of the Guard, and through inception became in charge of the Deling Army and the Dollet Dukedom Army. Carroway has made frequent meetings with Balamb Garden and the continent of Trabia.

Questions 4-9, Squall yawned on and finished within a minute. They had to concern with the functions of a SeeD ambassador and the mechanisms of working the Garden. _Kid stuff_, he thought.

_**Question 10:**__ Why is Esthar unseen on radar maps? __**Extra bonus**__ What was the main event that sparked the ambiguity? (Worth fifty points)_

The big-daddy question, and the one that almost everybody missed in the practice session. This one even stumped Squall. The concept of the continent of Esthar was an enigma. Galbadian and Deling aircraft had flown over the reddish-purple desert looking for signs of the floating rumors of Esthar. Esthar was said to be the largest city on the planet with some ten million inhabitants and sprawling skyscrapers. Evidence of goods and products imported from Esthar had been found everywhere, though no trace of the source of that export could be found anywhere on that desert. The only sign of life were large man-eating plants and evil-looking black unicorns that roamed the desert feasting on copious amounts of dirt and rock and the occasional traveller who dared to find the city him or herself. The lost city of Esthar seemed to be a true ghost town. Puzzlingly, though, it used to be visible, and at that time long ago it was a much smaller city than recent reports cite it to currently be. Two decades ago, a large Sorceress War occurred between the Estharians and the prime she-devil of the pact Sorceress Adel. The president of the city was slain in a crowded marketplace along with tens of thousands of others. For several years, the war continued costing thousands of lives, until three men trapped Adel aboard the Ragnarok-- a dragon-shaped spaceship-- and jettisoned her into outer space. Once there, the great ship expelled her out of the cabin and suctioned her frozen body into a great cusping magnet surrounding the Moon. As her power and influence waned, her legions of creatures and subordinates dwindled and dissolved on the earth, and the great city of Esthar ruined by the tumultous carnage looked ahead for the future. Recognizing the bravery of the three men who saved them, the citizens unanimously made them heads of state and closed off all records and traces of their city's presence. The names of the men were never exposed, the traces of the city were cut off by unknown mechanisms, and Esthar vanished off the face of the earth. Any traveller who dares to enter the reddish-purple desert instantly witnesses flashes of lights, warbling sounds, and other haunting devices. The continent is a barren void, but it is extremely puzzling. No one can figure out where the goods come from and how the monetary payments get there. To Squall's mind, it truly was the enigma of his age.

He was the first one done with the test, and as he gave the head instructor his test he noticed a few glares and admiring looks. The instructor paused him, and Squall watched as the instructor graded the test right then and there. He held a green and red pen-- the green marks meant correct answers and red meant incorrect answers. It seemed very childish, but it made the academy elites feel better. Before Squall's eyes, the instructor made ten green marks and rubber-stamped an ink press that said: _**PASSED**_. Squall forced himself not to smile, saluted the instructor, and left the classroom. Out of a hundred and twenty students, he expected maybe forty of them to pass along with him. Just a third.

He was slightly wrong in his calculations. The following week, he eventually learned that fifty passed the written exam. The other seventy were forced to wait another month before they could retake it. The new fifty now sat in a smaller auditorium, and all of them listened intently as the Guardians began informing them of their next task.

The chief Guardian (what a title!) spoke up first. "Congratulations, candidates, you are a third of the way through your finals. I trust you all are deeply excited about advancing your careers as SeeD representatives, I am sure."

He seemed to relish in the responses lower people in the heirarchical chain gave him. He straightened up and let the enormous yellow hat on his head fall to the side to expose his brow. "For the next fifty days, in alphabetical order for all last names, you will individually take the cave exam. The monster you face at the end of the trial is determined by your inherent magical weakness. If your training has consisted being constantly hit by ice elements, you'll face a terrible ice beast. Same thing with fire, and likewise with water and poison. It would seem from an outsider's viewpoint that the first person to undertake the task is the unlucky person. Yet, that view is repugnant in my thinking. Every single one of you could be wiped out in this test, so what good is that view then?

"You will have help, as I'm sure you've heard the rumors. One of ten of our instructors will be your so-called 'support' in this task. Each of the ten will take five of you one-at-a-time to conquer the second final. They will not be doing anything except saving you from death. This isn't the stage yet, where death is an issue-- that comes in the last final, so don't be worried about that yet. Your task is to brave the Fire Cavern and storm into the Elemental Lair. Defeat the creature and either take it as a Guardian Force or soak it in the rind. The choice is yours. Are there any questions?"

All fifty confirmed in the negative, and the enthusiastic Guardians assigned them their instructors. Squall's stomach flopped. His support was none other than Quistis. She beamed at the luck, and he rolled his eyes in response. Because his last name was an "L", he was deemed to go on the twenty-third day. The only thing that bothered him was that he would have the blond goddess watching his every move.

_One test completed_

_Two more, more interesting._

_First the cave of flame_

The twenty-third day arrived, and Quistis caught him at the Homeroom at noon. "Meet me down at the front gate in an hour. We'll complete the test a little early to save some time at the end. Alright?"

"Sure whatever suits you."

She grunted. "Well, after my first three failures, and a disappointing fourth of which I am extremely surprised that she passed, I am looking forward to supporting you. I don't have any worries."

"The front gate in an hour?"

"Yes," she sighed, "the front gate in an hour." She left, escorted by her throng of admirers whom Squall had earlier found out had named themselves the Trepies. He didn't know what to think about that.

As he left the classroom, he reminisced the many disastrous results the previous twenty-two days consisted of. Fifteen out of the twenty-two students failed miserably; one also died in the final room, causing his instructor to be terminated and replaced on the spot. The god Ifrit had charred the student's body to oblivion, because of a careless mistake the SeeD candidate made. Why emit a fireball when your enemy consumes fire for breakfast? The other seven either made lucky manuevers or completely overwhelmed the final opponent. The talk of the town buzzed around the entire school as they found out who was preparing that day to take the challenge. The Trepies were a little annoyed that the school's best student was going to be cavorting with their beloved goddess. The head honcho had pulled him aside earlier and warned him not to let Quistis take any falls. Squall only shrugged at that useless concern; he also thought the honcho underestimated Quistis in battle anyway-- she was really good with her chain whip.

He walked down the hall, and his thoughts were broken by frantic running coming up the adjacent hall and before he could react he collided with a petite and pretty brunette. She gasped in surprise and fell on her back.

Surprised himself, Squall stood dumbly where he was and flatly asked, "Are you Ok?"

Daintily, she got up, hopped on one foot forward, and sort of made a prissy gesture straightening out her miniskirt and jacket. "There," she said as if she were dressed for drill inspection, "tee-hee, I'm fine thanks." She looked up at Squall, and he thought she was pretty, but her voice was agonizing to him. Too cutesy and bubbly. She didn't wait for a reply, instantly looking around, and fretting a little bit. "Sorry, I was kinda in a hurry." She pointed behind him. "Did you just come from that class?"

He nodded.

"Is homeroom over?" she asked, a simple mock fear entering her tone.

"Oh.. about ten minutes ago."

"Wha--- oh no!" she exclaimed, drawing her hands to her face. "This place is so much bigger than my last Garden!" Still keeping her hands on her face, she seemed to think of something. "Oh, hey. I just transferred here. Do you think you could give me a quick tour of this Garden?"

Squall blinked. This wasn't the perfect time for this crap. Her cutesyness was starting to make him think of old milk duds the cafeteria made on Fridays. Unfortunately, he figured this girl was so bubbly enough that if she made instant friends at this Garden she would condemn him for "being so mean to me" over and over and over again. "Sure," he said, "I've got a little bit of time."

"Woo-hoo!" she cheered, jumping up and down and creating a little bounce for his amusement. "Let's go."

"You already know that this is the classrooms building, right?"

"Right, I've got that one."

He started walking towards the elevator, her in tow. "Upstairs is the Headmaster's office. Cid's his name, and he rarely comes out to talk. Down below us is the basement and generator room. This elevator over here takes us down to the main walkway area, but we'll go up to the top floor and head out on the balcony so we can see the whole thing in a panoramic view."

"Cool, that sounds awesome!"

"I guess it is."

They went up to the top floor, walked out the ornate double doors, and headed across the balcony. The sky was cloudless and deep blue with the Sun shining bright overhead. The golden halo surrounding the steeple atop the Headmaster's office above them glinted in the rays. Down below them all the massive crystalline buildings sparkled and shimmered in the heat. An occasional breeze cooled them down enough to enjoy the day.

Squall leaned against the railing, and she did the same. Stretching out his hand, he declared, "Well, this is it. Balamb Garden is pretty big compared to most."

"Yeah, I from Trabia. You wouldn't believe how cold it can get up there."

"You're a candidate from Trabia?"

"Yeah, I just need to take the Final Exam. I've passed all my written and field tests. They were a cinch."

"Hmm. Lucky you, I've got my field test today."

"Oh, wow, you should find it interesting."

"Somewhat."

His terseness threw her off a little bit. Not waiting for a response, he swept his hand through the air again, indicating the whole academy. "Let me give you a quick overview of the various facilities."

She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, sir!"

He flinched a little, but continued. "The dormitories are to the north. The majority of the students live here. I haven't personally seen anybody who commutes."

"I live in the dorms, too," she bubbled, as if that fact was important.

"I figured as much. West of the North block is the cafeteria. There's always a big rush for the hotdogs. You'd better get used to waiting in line."

"Why hotdogs?"

"Because they're filled with grease, hair, and the tears of children."

"Wha--?"

"Nah, I really don't know. They just taste good. East of the North block is the parking lot. We usually take the Garden car out on a practice mission or to trips to Balamb port or the like. If you become a SeeD, you get to utilize more of the vehicles. The front gate is further to the South..." He remembered suddenly that this little girl was stalling him from his preparations.

"Hm? What's the matter?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Farther west, we have the Quad. There's an event being planned there."

Her eyes lit up and she started jumping up and down again. "I know! I know! It's the Garden Festival. It's going to be great! I'm planning to be on the committee. You wanna help out, too?"

Squall cleared his throat. "Let's just continue. South of the Quad is the infirmary. Dr. Kadowaki will patch you up if you injure yourself enough. A lot of students just come there for advice, though." He smiled and indicated the eastern block. "This area is my personal favorite. This is the training center. It's the only facility open at night. They have real monsters roaming around there. If you don't take it seriously, you'll wind up dead. Just so you know."

"Crap, we never had that at my old school."

"This, from what I've heard, is a relatively new concept."

She looked at him. "Is that how you got that scar on your face?"

Instinctively touching it, he shrugged. "That was an accident. Nothing more."

She raised an eyebrow, but he continued on. "South of the East block is the library. There's a lot of material you can look up here, but the terminals in the classrooms are much more efficient." _That was a lie_, he thought. Both facilities had the same quality. He leaned off the railing. "Well, that's about it. You need anything else?"

"I like this campus. I think it's going to be a lot of fun!"

"It has its moments."

She leaned off the railing and looked at him. "Well, thanks for showing me the place. Good luck on your field exam. Maybe we'll see each other at the Final."

"Maybe so."

She waved a little bit, and he watched her exit the balcony to the elevators. He hadn't gotten her name, but he seemed to have a familiar feeling about her again. These occurrences were happening too often for him that it was starting to make him feel sick. Maybe it was the heat from the Sun.

He left the balcony and the central island and headed for the Front Gate. He figured he would skip any last minute preparation and just forge headlong into it. Lord knew it wouldn't be that big of a deal.

Apparantly, Quistis didn't keep to timetables. There was still some time left on the clock, but she was standing right by the main gates with her arms folded across his chest and an impatient look on her face. He was amazed by her quickness in changing. She had ditched the SeeD uniform and now wore a tight-fitting red leather bodysuit. She had kept her boots, but she had let down her hair enough to showcase the radiant blondness. He thought the new wear was a bit excessive.

She looked up at him as he arrived. "I knew you wouldn't prepare."

"Don't put enough faith in me."

"Don't misconstrue. I do have a lot of faith in you. You just never open yourself up."

"Well, I'm here now. So, we might as well get going."

"Hold on," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder to stop him. "I have a few things to say first before we depart."

"What could that possibly be?"

"Well, proper procedures dictate that I need to say these things. Remember, the Guardians spy on our conversations sometimes, you know that."

Squall made a little laugh. "Yeah, those bastards never put faith into anyone."

"True. I don't have much to say, but it concerns the type of boss enemy you are about to meet. It's the same one that fried up that poor Stevens boy a week ago."

"Ifrit, huh? Figures as much. I'm still not that good at perfecting my fire skills. That was the main reason Seifer was able to best me."

"Well, you shouldn't have too much of a trouble. You do have Shiva, and historically fire and ice have always had damaging effects on each other."

Squall looked down to his pocket and pulled out two gems. The Guardian Forces, once they liked a certain mortal, would condense a part of themselves into gems. The user at anytime he or she felt threatened could speak an incantation while holding the gem in their palm, and the gods would answer the call with a vengeance against their opponents. Strangely enough, the GFs (an abbreviated form of Guardian Forces) behaved exactly like humans; they were fickle gods holding persons of all races in particular contempt. Experts have yet to find conclusive evidence on how and why a god could suddenly like some human and then banish others. These Guardian Forces also didn't seem to care about the horrors of the human world at all: war, famine, disease. They seemed pretty content with just aiding in small ways and letting the big problems disseminate across the earth. Such is the way of a higher being.

Quistis waved a hand in front of his face to snap him out of his reveries. An annoyed look was on her face. "GFs give us strength. The stronger the GF, the stronger we become."

"The more often we use them, the better skilled both of us become?"

"That sums it up. They're fickle enough, but constant usage of their services puts you in a special place in their hearts."

"Well, that's comforting to know."

She smiled again and stepped back. "Ready to go? The cavern is just east of here."

He nodded, and they exited the campus and ventured into the green grassy fields of the Alcauld Plains. The breezes were much more prevalent on the plains; a couple of clouds had buzzed up from the south and now hid the Sun a little in its glow. The island, called Alcauld for future reference, was a tranquil island that had huge bugs on it. Blue insects with huge bulbous heads and yellowish wings. They were as big as a grown man's hand, but were able to be squashed very easily. They clustered near the southern portion of Alcauld on the Rinauld Coast. The air was slightly more humid down there. The insects were a chore, but one could walk the entire length of the island without ever seeing a cluster of them-- for these irrelevant bugs would always come in clusters of up to a hundred stupidly flying around as if their lives were longer than a half a year. There were two big forests on either side of Alcauld that hosted a lot of deformed caterpillars that fed mostly on smaller caterpillars. Cannibalism was not too uncommon in this world, and the insects had a fun time devouring each other in bliss. The mountains laid north of the academy, blue in color with thin mists gracefully passing by. Mountain goats lived up there along with the occasionally nutty prophet who thinks he's seen the second coming of Eden. Balamb Port lay to the southwest utilizing the Rinauld Coast for fish harvesting. Cargo ships from Galbadia rested against the shore transporting goods to the academy every so often. The Port itself was a quaint small town filled mostly with resident Alcauldians and commuters from the academy and beyond the island. The Fire Cavern was on the eastern side and was a dirty little hole in the ground surrounded by two giant columns with a blue laser flashing between them. This was the source of the magicka controlling the caverns, allowing each trip down into its depths to be a different experience from the last.

The two made their way across the plains in silence without coming across a single cluster of blue bite bugs. They both seemed lost in thought and seemed content together to not ruin it.

Two Guardians, their enormous yellow hats plunged way down on their head, awaited their arrival without the least bit of cheeriness. It seemed as if they were tired of failing students and really just wanted to abandon their posts.

Quistis stopped him for a moment at the entrance. "You do know how to use your Gunblade properly right?"

He looked at her as if he just found out his mother died. "Are you fucking serious?"

"I'm just doing what I was told, Squall!"

"Yes, I know how to use this thing. You point, click, boom. That's how it goes."

"Then, that's all that needs to be said. You know the drill."

He sighed. "All too well."

Both of them shook their heads in unison and walked towards the two Guardians who seemed ready to leave right at that particular moment. Noticing Squall, they actually sighed and shuddered. The foremost one spoke up first. "Hi, and welcome to the Balamb Garden Field Test. I am sure you will do your very best."

Squall blinked.

The second Guardian spoke. "State your name, please."

Squall stood at attention and saluted. "No. 41269. Squall Leonhart, presiding."

"Your objective is to obtain a low-level GF. A SeeD member must support you in your illustrious endeavor. Are you ready to begin?"

"Yes, I am ready."

"I am his support," Quistis declared, standing at attention and saluting as well. "Instructor No. 14, Quistis Trepe, presiding."

"Wonderful, at ease," the first Guardian chirped pathetically.

The second continued, "Select a time limit. Choose one suited to your abilities that is challenging, yet reasonable."

"You have the option of ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes, or forty minutes." The first Guardian seemed to be falling asleep.

Squall smirked. "Ten minutes is more than enough."

Quistis raised an eyebrow, and both of the Guardians seemed stuck for replies. Finally they made room for Squall and said together, "Good luck, sir."

With the moment passed, Squall and Quistis entered the cavern and the Guardians reblocked the entrance. The candidate and instructor proceeded down the gravelly path and noticed the air getting progressively warmer and warmer. Quistis spoke, a little cautiously, "You're the first to pick the shortest time. Feeling just a might bit overconfident?"

"Ifrit's a flamer, nothing more than that."

"Hmmph, I guess you can look at it that way. Doesn't really say much for poor Stevens."

"He fought fire with fire, Quistis. That guy was an idiot."

Against her principles, Quistis nodded her head in agreement and then immediately regretted the fact and changed the subject. "My job is to support you in battle. Everything else is up to you."

"Fine," he replied curtly.

Sounds of bats fluttered above them. The gravelly walkway ventured further downward and then opened up into a giant cave with a sweltering red-hot lava pit flowing on both sides of the walkway. The air was incredibly dense and putrid; steam billowed everywhere making the visuals of the room twist, turn, and dissolve in the air. More bats flew everywhere, big purple bats with bright red bellies. The yellowness of their fangs glistened against the brightness of the flowing lava. Distant roaring sounds that no doubt belonged to Ifrit bellowed in the distance.

Squall had studied up a lot, and he was aware of the first trial before they even came upon it. Reaching into his pocket, he clasped his hand around the blue gem of Shiva's essence and muttered a short incantation. A tense feeling gripped his body, and his eyes shifted colors for several seconds. The Bombs came out of the blue, stumbling across the narrow red walkway ready to spew streams of liquid fire over him, but he was ready for them. He shot his hand out of his pocket and blasted a small iceberg spell straight into the gaping maw of the closest Bomb creature. The creature inhaled, and the ice shards cut its insides apart freezing its fiery organs and dissolving the creature in mist. Two more quick blasts of ice melted the next two Bomb creatures and the first trial was completed before Quistis could be ready to act as support.

"You certainly know what you're doing," she replied in amazement.

He didn't reply, but instead he unsheathed the Rough Divide and coated the blade with more of the essence of Shiva. He figured that would make defeating Ifrit that much quicker.

Quistis watched his every move, then grew a little disappointed. "You know the boys often choke on this test when I come with them." She saw him slowly pause in his work. Smiling mischievously, she continued, "I guess my charm makes them nervous."

He brought the gunblade down to his side and raised an eyebrow.

She laughed, unable to control herself. "I'm just kidding. Trying to keep you relaxed, that's all."

_Whatever, woman_. He kept the gunblade drawn, turned, and proceeded deeper into the cave. After a few moments, she caught up to him, and in the distance both of them saw their second trial. A golem sat in the middle of the walkway, and he wasn't ready to budge. Squall knew what he was. The golem was the guardian of the pass, a regenerating spectre that like to play tricks on people. He saw Quistis fondle the cusp holding tight her chain whip. This creature was not to be trusted.

The golem watched them come up, and he smiled a toothless nasty grin. "Ah," the sound was bone-crunching to hear, "another SeeD cadet come to trifle with the treacherous Caverns. You must be Squall Leonhart, I presume."

"You're good with names," Squall said, gunblade still drawn, face as composed as he could make it.

"I am an old thing of this world. I know too much for my own good. Miss Quistis, I am aware that this is our last time meeting each other, eh?"

"This is my final student, sir."

"Well, I hope he's better prepared than your last four, although Miss Julia was a determined lass." Regarding Squall for a little bit, he continued, "I haven't had fire duty for a while. This oughta be interesting. Since we're on a time crunch, I'll be brief. It's Riddle Time, Mr. Squall. Answer two riddles correctly, and you may pass. Answer wrong, and I kill you. Plain as that, no?"

"You can try."

"I can indeed. First one: Riddle me this, Squall,

_For some I go fast_

_for others I'm slow._

_To most people, I'm an obsession_

_relying on me is a well-practiced lesson._

What am I?"

Squall pondered the first two lines and then incorporated the third. "Some people go faster, while others go slower. Some people are obsessed with it, while others value it as a rich thing. Are you time?"

The golem sighed angrily. "That I am. I see your time is of the essence, so here's your second riddle: Riddle me this, Squall,

_Late one evening, a man and his wife were driving at a very high speed down a country road. Their car spun out and hit a tree. The man decided to get help at the closest town; making sure his wife was safe, he rolled up the windows and locked all the doors. When he returned his wife was dead, and there was someone he had never seen before in his car. No physical damage was done to the car, but it was still locked. How did his wife die, and where did this stranger come from?"_

The very thought of that riddle sent shivers down Squall's spine, and he heard Quistis shudder in disgust. The riddle at first didn't make any sense and that infuriated Squall. He started to tighten his hand a bit, and the creature eyed that movement hungrily. Then, a thought came to Squall: if no physical damage was done to the car, then the stranger had to belong to the woman. "The stranger in the car was her baby, and she died in childbirth."

The golem sputtered in disgust and brandished a knife. "I thought that was a stumper, you incessant tightwad." Quistis was right in her assertion, and she quickly unclasped her chain whip and flung the bladed whip around the creature's body, the blade penetrating both his stomach and his throat. Squall blinked in surprise and had to admire the quickness this girl exhibited with herself. The nasty abominable creature dropped his knife and made a peace sign. She plucked the bladed whip out, sending bits of his flesh everywhere and grunted in disgust. The golem applied pressure to his wounds and clumsily said, "Great, you passed your second trial. They say third time's the charm. I'm sure Ifrit will dispose of you two properly. You've got three minutes, Mr. Leonhart!" He slinkered off into the molten lava to regenerate for the twenty-fourth student to make his way into the caverns.

Squall looked at her in a momentary appreciation and then quickly hurried to the very back of the cave with her on his heels. They got to the massive doors, and she had to nag once more. "Are you ready?"

He shrugged, and she shrugged as well. They opened the doors, and a deep bellow greeted them. Squall and Quistis had just brandished their weapons when the massive horned demon barrelled out of his cave. Ifrit was nine feet tall and built with muscle. He was brown-skinned with bits of fiery jewels embedded in shoulders and hips. Two long curled horns penetrated his brain, and everytime he opened his mouth smoke and flame spewed out. It was impossible to distinguish his ramblings when he spoke, but you could tell what mood he was in by the changing color of his eyes. If they were yellow, he was able to collaborate with you, but if they were orange-- like they were now-- battle was imminent. He slammed his fist to the ground sending a great shockwave knocking the two humans down. Roaring triumphantly, he sprang in the air and hurled a large ball of flame directly at Squall. Quick reflexes saved him from a charred defeat; he brought the width of his blade across his body before the blast consumed him. Shiva's essence coated the sword and created a thick barrier emanating off it. The ball of flame instantly melted against it and only slightly warmed up Squall from its effects.

Quistis was up quicker, and she plunged her bladed whip into Ifrit's throat and sent him crashing down on his head. Black blood spewed out of both wounds, and his eyes grew more orange. He grabbed the hooked end of the whip and yanked Quistis's side down to the floor. He was meaning to crush her skull on the pavement, but Squall got to his feet and raised his sword above his head. The coated Rough Divide came down and tore off Ifrit's arm that held Quistis pinned to the floor. Acting quickly, Squall grasped the blue gem in his pocket, sung the incantation, and summoned Shiva into the battle. Ifrit howled in horror as the Ice Queen descended from a thick cloud of ice. She was a beautiful ethereal creature with long flowing blonde hair and pretty blue-green eyes. She was fully naked as well with ample breasts and perky nipples and a cleanly-shaven front. The fire prince was rightfully taken aback by her beauty, and that's what made her so powerful. Regarding her rival coyly, she summoned a huge ball of crystalline light that lit up the whole cave and sent shattering all over Ifrit's body. The brown demon was covered in snow shards, and his black blood oozed everywhere on the floor, his howling becoming fiercer and more pained. The Ice Queen left as soon as she appeared, happy to be employed into service once again.

Squall and Quistis fell back and watched the severely injured god stumble to his feet. He was almost finished. Twirling the gunblade in his hand, Squall gave a cocky look, ran to Ifrit, and somersaulted in the air slashing his blade at the same time. When he fell to the ground, Ifrit's head went one way, his torso went the other, and his legs plopped to the floor in a big pool of black blood.

With thirty seconds to spare.

Squall looked at Quistis and winked. She beamed in delight. For the first time, her training as an instructor had paid off.

Ifrit reformed himself and grew back to nine feet tall. Surprisingly, his ramblings became coherent. "Ah, you incessant mortal! You're quite stronger than I imagined. For me to lose to a human is almost unbearable to think of."

Squall rested the blackened Rough Divide by his leg and stood defiantly before the Fire Prince.

Ifrit asked grudgingly, "What is it that you want me to do?"

"Ally yourself with me. Your power is great in certain regards."

His eyes went yellow. "That sounds worthy enough. Call me when the time is right." He leaned back and sighed. Wounds appeared all over him, and he melted in his own black blood that ran like a whitewater rapid all down the walkway and into the molten lava. Where he formerly stood was a red jewel. Squall bent down, picked it up, and gave it to Quistis for safekeeping.

She seemed ecstatic. "I guess I was right. You and Seifer are in a class of your own. You both have amazing strength and potential."

"He just cannot pass the final."

"I think he's rather unwilling to finish it. Still, he's the second-best this school has to offer."

"He would hate to hear that."

"Sounds like you would, too, if it was reversed."

He grunted and headed for the exit. She stood again admiring him and thought that he would do excellent in the Final Exam come thirty days from now. They made their way across the fire lake that was rapidly cooling down into the traditional bland caverns that it normally was. Making way for the next cadet to descend the trials and tribulations.

The two Guardians had left, not taking too much consideration to the fact that he had won. He had always ran into conflicts of interests with them, including the many infractions caused between him and Seifer. They made their way across the plains without encountering clusters of bite bugs and arrived back at the school.

Quistis looked flushed from the test, and Squall himself felt a little tired. She finally spoke up, "Well done. You will certainly have passed most everybody's expectations."

"I aim to please."

"Well, I guess it's the waiting game for you, now."

"What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you going to be doing for the next month?"

"Waiting too. I'm supposed to be an information analyst and a support tech for the Final Exam."

"So, I guess we'll still be spending time with each other again, huh?"

She snorted. "You make it sound as if it's a bad thing."

"We just know each other too much."

"Right, well. In the meantime take care of your GFs. They may be fickle gods more powerful than us, but they're as needy as children. Use this next month to become more versed in the magical arts. I suppose that's what I'll be doing, too. If you don't mind we can share our GFs if you want."

"Whatever."

She smiled and shrugged. "Whatever. See ya, Squall."

They departed and went their separate ways, she to file the paperwork and he to his dorm. Zell's room was closed; no doubt he was sleeping. He had been one of the seven who had passed the exam, and he was itching to tackle the Final. Squall didn't realize how tired he was, for when he set his gunblade and took off his jacket and shoes, he fell instantly to sleep.

In his dreams, that girl from the infirmary crept into his mind. That short brown hair, that pale skin, and those clothes all seemed so familiar. He thought that being out of the harshly-lit hospital would cure his inability to conjure up the solution, but he failed again. He could not paint a name to a face. That irked him like no other. He tried again and again and finally got to a building with a heavy rainstorm hitting it hard. _What was the significance of the rainstorm? What was this building? _He couldn't answer for he fell into a deep, deep slumber and he had more pleasant dreams instead.


	4. Battlefield Dollet

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**Author's Note:** Thanks for the spending the time to read this epic novel I am making. This chapter draws particular attention this time around. It is about 2000 words longer than the other two chapters. It is also a clear definition of what makes this Fanfic "M" rated, for there is a lot of violence depicted in the upcoming scenes. War causes duress and uneasy feelings for a lot of people. I know that in Final Fantasy VIII, the assault on the Dollet Dukedom for the SeeD wasn't any _Saving Private Ryan_ scene like storming the beaches of Normandy or something. This chapter in particular pays a great deal of AU elements in it. Squall's gunblade is talked about in some detail that's different from how the game presented it, and I changed certain tweaks of the semantics around.

Thank you for taking the time to read this piece, and review as you please.

~~~ACJ

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A difficult test,

_Demanding in its structure,_

_Forced to make a choice_

The alarm clock buzzed off like a chainsaw revving up. He hated the damn thing so much that every morning he whacked it off the table and hoped that it would crash hard enough to never be able to disturb him again. Of course, that never happened; it rang even louder the next morning.

He laid there in his bed for a few extra minutes, contemplating the next twenty-four hours he would be enduring. It was now time to take the Final.

Out of the fifty previous cadets, only twelve had succeeded in passing. Surprisingly, this wasn't a shock, and the instructors were very aware of the fact that the majority of the cadets didn't take the preparations seriously enough. Squall covered his eyes with his arm and grunted. Having less people to help you for this stretch of the test was going to be similar to a dentist pulling an infected tooth. He let his arm drape down to his side and stared at the griffin poster on his ceiling. It was the same shape as the silver necklace that lay on his chest at that moment, dangling with the dog tags. He felt he needed as much pride and glory as that lion-creature depicted up there. This Final Exam had him a little worked up, he had to admit. The Headmaster had been informed once the last cadet finished the Fire Cavern exercise that the subject-material was having some difficulties. It now looked as if Squall and his colleagues were going to have a rough landing over at the Dollet Dukedom west of the island. He sighed and propped his back against the wall-- it was just like politics and administrators to go jumbling things around when you least expected it to. What good was having a properly-run academy when the rules could be changed by the stroke of a pen?

Rules were rules, and they had to be complied with. Or, if change had to occur, there had to be very subtle malleability.

His chest was bare, and he realized the two necklaces were getting cold on his skin from the blowing fan, so he got up and put on his white undershirt. Then he decided to take an ice cold shower, so that bit of redundancy threw the whole thing off. He tossed himself into the shower and tensed as the water flooded his body. His muscles relaxed, and his mind fluttered off in various degrees of rest. He was ready to get the test over with-- nervous, though, because this was the real deal. Death was a viable option in this round. Qualified SeeD members would lend a hand if needed, but it was up to the cadets mostly to prove their worth. Since the initial plans for the exam had been changed abruptly, he had no idea what lay in store for him in the next twelve hours.

He turned off the faucet and stepped out, fanning himself with a towel. He needed a shave. Inspections were done and over with at this point, but he hated facial hair. Who wanted to look like Rip Van Winkle anyway? His beard wasn't that long of course, but it was patchy, so he slowly shaved it and plunged himself back into his thoughts.

_Maybe it has something to do with the Galbadians._

Reports had cycled across the news networks that a growing strife was mounting up by the soldiers of Galbadia Garden against the soldiers of the Dollet Dukedom. However, since Galbadia and Balamb weren't on likeable terms, it was hard to imagine if the news stations didn't exhibit a hint of bias.

Bathed, shaven, and clean he went back into his room and slowly put on his field uniform. It was similar to his old recruit garb, but this time the jacket was a lighter blue and the pants were more comfortable. He looked at himself in the mirror, and he made a slight smile before grabbing his blade and heading out the door.

The dorm hall was a mess of excitement, with several of the qualified cadets nervously talking amongst each other.

"I wonder how many are going to pass the SeeD exam today," one girl said to her friends.

"There's only twelve, you know!"

"Plus those six transfers."

"How did they get to be able to join us?"

"I guess we needed the help."

"You're full of it! They were probably expelled or something."

"I don't think that matters. Eighteen people should be enough to satisfy the conditions, right?"

"Oh," piped a depressed girl, "I wish I could be there. That written test was sooo hard."

"What the hell was up with that Esthar question anyway?"

"I don't know, I got it wrong, and it's so not fair!"

Some guys were carousing over on his right. "Dude, bro, I don't know if I'm gonna make it today."

"Hey, don't pass out now. If you can take on Quetzacotyl, you can take on anything, bro!"

"Man, thunder is one thing. Machine gun bullets and magnum bombs are another. None of these soldiers use any magic."

"Some of the enlisted do. They should just be some small fry."

A third spoke up. "Let the navy handle the big stuff, you just concentrate on staying out of the crossfire."

"Easy for you to say, since you're not doing it!"

"Better you than me," the third answered queasily.

Squall was almost out the door when the guys stopped him. "Hey, wait, Squall!"

The idolized cadet reluctantly turned around and saw the entire group looking at him. Hands balling up under the pressure, he elected to not respond.

"Are you as calm as always?" the leader of the guy pack asked.

"Calm enough to get the job done. Your friend's right, stay out of the crossfire, and you should be fine."

The lead man's friend socked him in the shoulder as if to say _I told you so_, but the leader pressed on. "Man, they changed it on us. It could be a trap they're setting us into."

Squall grew irritated. "Then it's a trap, and we all die. The hell do you want me to say?"

"We all just need a little advice," a woman in the back piped up.

Squall shrugged. "Look to what you can personally do and exploit it. That's the only secret that I have. I exploit myself, and the end results are always successful."

"If Stevie exploits himself, they'll sell him on the black market for a hundred thousand gil," the pack leader's friend chided drawing uneasy laughs across the room.

Unimpressed, Squall turned to leave. "Just have faith in your abilities. I don't think the Headmaster would give us a task that was virtually impossible to finish. Remember, he's thoroughly pleased to have at least eighteen qualified cadets as it is."

They seemed pleased enough with that, and they let him leave without inquiring further. As he left, he no doubt figured they were muttering things about him behind his back.

* * *

The Sun was approaching noon, when he finally made his way down to the commons, and he found the blond goddess dressed up in her SeeD uniform. She held a clipboard and had on her thin-framed glasses, as if to bring an air of importance to herself. Noticing him across the way, she beckoned him over.

"You look good," she said, "all ready for drill it seems."

"It's what I do."

"Good. We still have time before the Headmaster reigns everyone in to hear his speech." Indicating her clipboard, she added, "I'll be announcing the squad assignments for the exam. Since your here, though, I might as well fill you in early. I know, I know, preferential treatment. But you look like you just can't wait."

"I'm dying."

She smiled and looked at her clipboard. "You have quite a lively fellow to team up with. You're with Zell Dincht."

Squall's whole body seemed to collapse. "What?"

"He's your roommate!"

"And the sky is blue! What does that have to do with anything?"

"It was the luck of the draw, I suppose."

"He's not lively, in the slightest. He's just loud and annoying."

"Well, you're quite annoying yourself if you stop to think about it."

"Can't I switch members?"

"Not possible, Squall. That'd be like changing the color of the sky at will. I'd personally make it green."

Squall rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Wonderful."

Ignoring him, she looked past him and shouted, "Over here, Zell!"

Squall turned and saw the martial artist prancing and kicking around the walkway. He guessed his roommate was practicing his moves, but Squall always thought that Zell was just flailing around like he was having a seizure. He did perform a nice, tight backflip somersault, though. At least he knew how to stick it. Quistis called louder, and Zell turned sharply at the voice. Running at full speed, he did another a backflip somersault but tripped and fell into the dirt smudging up his pants. Squall cocked an eyebrow, and several girls in the distance laughed. Getting up as if nothing were wrong, he noticed Squall next to him, and said, "What? You and I are partners? Kick-ass!" He smacked his right hand on his pant leg, blew on it, and extended it to Squall for a handshake-- a signature-style trademark that he had made.

Squall regarded his roommate. The boy was the same age, about three inches shorter, and goofy as hell. Zell wore his blonde hair in a coifed frontal ridge loaded with hair gel, in order to keep the look fresh. As if that weren't obvious enough, last year he went down to Balamb and got an enormous tattoo embedded on the left side of his face. It was in the shape of four lightning bolts coming out of a big thundercloud-- he said it was in the memory of his grandfather, but Squall thought it looked terrible. His roommate and apparantly his new partner now was all plastered in an energetic, hyperactive state of being that did not jive well with Squall. Of course, he would take him over Seifer anyday, and that was a fact. He refused to shake the outstretched hand.

Knowing his roommate too well, Zell withdrew the denied gesture and pressed on in his exuberant self. "I never got around to saying this earlier, but I'm sorry about your face, man."

Squall looked at him, instinctively touched his scar, and replied, "No need to worry about it, Zell. The incident has come and gone."

"You don't get along with Seifer, do you."

"Like I said, it came and went. We weren't fighting, we were training."

"Hm. Maybe. Betcha he doesn't think so." As if he knew the answers, he continued, placing his hands on his hips. "Look, Seifer's just being a pain in the ass. All you need to do is just ignore him."

A small bit of fury tinged Squall, and he curtly replied, "You know, that's none of your bu--"

"None of your business!"

Both boys looked at Quistis, who blushed a little bit before continuing, "Pardon me for interrupting you, but that Seifer you're talking about, Mr. Almassy is your Squad Leader."

"What the fuck?" Squall asked dumbly.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Zell shrieked. "How is that possible?"

"He only needs to pass this Final Exam. I guess he fails on purpose for a reason only he knows. I'm telling you two, it's the luck of the draw. It cannot be changed. I'm sorry." Noticing movement behind the boys, she peered and saw the Disciplinary Committee approaching. She cleared her throat and motioned them to watch them.

Seifer, Fujin, and Raijin came waltzing up in their motley uniforms and walking their motley gait. Seifer eyed his two squad partners warily and motioned for the Committee to halt. Giving Quistis a lookover, he placed his hands on his hips ready for the announcement.

Quistis sighed as he waited. "You're the squad leader. Good luck to you."

He scoffed. "Dear instructor, I hate it when people wish me luck. Save those words for a bad student that needs them, eh?"

Fujin and Raijin laughed to themselves. Of course Seifer was never a bad person, they reasoned. He was just _misunderstood_.

Zell sneered, while Squall shook his head. Quistis smiled wide and replied, "Ok, then. Good luck then, Seifer."

The Disciplinary Committee flinched, and Seifer muttered something about a "list" before glancing at Zell and Squall. "Guess this is old times again, ladies?" Before they could answer, a loud klaxon rang across the campus, followed by an annoying ringtone and a chirpy voice. "_Good afternoon, students, as you know a very important test is scheduled for this evening. Will the qualifying cadets please assemble at the front lawn of the campus commons, please. All qualifying cadets please assemble at the front lawn of the campus commons, please."_ The ringtone sounded again, and the gang of uniformed participants and their SeeD protectorates proceeded from all avenues of the school. Several Guardians appeared from various buildings, and the Headmaster himself appeared from the central island.

Squall believed that this was the first time he had actually met Cid, for he had only heard talks and rumors about him. Headmaster Cid looked like a soft-spoken old man by the way he carried himself. He had wispy brown hair kept somewhat neat on a tanned wrinkly face. Coke-bottle frames covered his green eyes, and they sat on a bulbous nose. He wore the traditional red vest, dark leather pants, and green tie. His smile seemed genuine enough to mask any feelings he was truly having within his mind.

Squall, Zell, and Seifer formed the front of a eighteen-man assembly there on the commons. The certified SeeDs surrounded them, and the Guardians encircled them. All three classes of the heirarchy turned on a dime and saluted the Headmaster, who in turn snapped to a crisp attention and did a slow but steady responding salute. When he spoke, his voice was soft but stern, a quiet dignity billowing beneath. "Everyone's here, I presume? Wouldn't be prudent, I would think, to miss out on the most important day of your life."

A resounding _No, sir_ left the mouths of all of them.

"Good. Good, good, good. It's been a while, everyone. You all have seen many days, many lessons, many sores, many bruises. Some of you have even excelled at your work, specializing in areas that this school has not seen in decades. Some of you have overcome obstacles that have stumbled in your path from day one-- hell, even all the way up to just yesterday."

Some in the crowd grinned a little sheepishly.

"For starters, I just want you to know that even though this may be the first time both of us have met, I am well aware of each of your abilities. I must say that, all bets aside, this group has by far the most potential I've ever seen. I am very proud by what I have witnessed, from the reports of my subordinates to simple observation from an unknown location to just plain sheer gut instinct. I don't think none of you have anything to worry about.

"The Exam is an all-or-nothing deal. You pass it, you're in the club, as they say. Full-fledged SeeDs ready to tackle whatever assignments are deemed necessary for the protection of democracy and free will in this world. A proud and noble deed if ever befell a human being on this planet. You fail this Exam, though, and you must retake the grueling pre-reqs over again. Like I said before, I don't think that will happen here. Eighteen of you have been divided into six squads, A-F. You will be proceeding to a real battlefield-- no tricks, no jives. Obviously, the battles are for real.

"The stakes have never been higher, as I'm sure you've been watching the news. Most of you are right when presuming that you cannot trust the Galbadian news networks. The facts, as we know, stand that the Dollet Dukedom has received a mind-numbing blow from the Galbadian Garden, and it's up to us to push their offensive back. Xu, our coordinate specialist, will fill you further on the details here in a second. But first, if you look to your left and your right at this time, you will notice nine SeeD members. These are the best and brightest of the school, and they are the most skilled members that we have at this point-- which could all change later this evening. They shall accompany you on this mission. Should you unfortunately fail in beating back the Galbadian offensive, these members shall get the job done. They always do." Smiling a little mischievously, he added, "Well, if you think about it, that's one less worry on your mind, right?"

Some of the cadets gulped.

Chuckling to himself, he motioned for a lady to come to his side and introduced her as Xu. She was a young twenty-something woman with cropped brown hair and a stern face. She softened a little, though, as she was about to relay some important information. Taking a clicker out of her pocket, she pressed a button, and an unmanned drone flew from across the campus over their formation and descended a large video screen. Another click of the button added sound and visuals of an ongoing massacre hitting an urban beachside. Explosions, screams, and squirting blood filled the screen full of violence. Her voice was rough when she spoke, "Our client is the Dollet Dukedom Parliament. Five days ago, the Galbadian forces made a surprise attack on the urban city as part of their recently promoted PreEmptive Doctrine put forth by President Deling of Galbadia. As you know, the Doctrine gives Galbadia the green light to launch an attack or an invasion on a sovereign or insovereign entity, if they feel that that entity has the fortitude or capacity of causing them harm. Naturally, the Dollet Dukedom is getting slaughtered. A request for assistance from SeeD was made eighteen hours ago." She flicked another button, and the drone screen changed to a luminescent radar map highlighting the various checkerboarded points the Galbadian army was wrenching the city at.

She continued. "The heaviest and bloodiest fighting has occurred within the last seventy-two hours. It is predicted that up to ten thousand civilians have been killed in the process. Forty-nine hours into the battle, Dollet's frontlines abandoned their position and headed for the inner city. A surprise naval assault by the Galbadians, who have been aided by Deling City armaments, ransacked the southeastern portside of the city and routed the soldiers in their current position somewhere in the nearby mountains. Dollet is now reorganizing its troops up there, and that's their current status.

"Your mission is to land near Lapin Beach. The heaviest fighting is near the mountains currently, and the beachside is now currently shellshocked and burning tremendously, so the footing shouldn't be too slippery. You, as cadets, are the sole caretakers of protecting the city. You are only to eliminate the remaining Galbadian army units within the city limits, as soon as possible. Leave the mountainous regions to our navy missiles and the actual SeeD members. Squad leaders, and in a moment Quistis will be reading off the members of each squad, squad leaders are directly responsible for this requirement. Every person under the leader must respond to his and her leader. Disrespect is an automatic failure, remember your vocal chords have been bugged so we can hear exactly what you are saying at all times. That is the mission report, and now please listen for your name and order."

The whole formation seemed to grow a little more tense. The anticipation was rife with agony. Quistis came to the front of the group and she cleared her throat.

"Squad A will hold the gates guarding the back entrance to the mountain pass. Squad A, your leader is No. 35789 Robertson. Under him are No. 34447 Thomas and No. 45567 Finch.

"Squad B will hold the central square near the fountainhead. Squad B, your leader is No. 21467 Almassy. Under him are No. 41269 Leonhart and No. 40257 Dincht.

"Squad C..."

Squall blocked the other divisions out; he didn't really care about the proverbial semantics. Guard the central square, that's as far as he needed to know. No more, no less.

When Quistis finished, Headmaster Cid retook the stage. "Always trust in yourself, my fellow students. Life and death, victory and defeat, honor and disgrace. Each one of these goes hand in hand, it amazes me sometimes. You can either have one or the other. Always trust in yourself. Are you up for it? I reason that if you weren't, you wouldn't be standing up here at this point, but that's just my reasoning and I'm an old man. Too old for a lot of things, really. But one thing I do know, you will become the pride of Balamb Garden if you are successful in this test. The elite mercenary force, a symbol that's more than just any old symbol! It is the true pride of, really, the entire world. Learn from those who succeeded before you, and this mission will be a breeze. Nothing to it. Prove yourself worthy of becoming a SeeD." He actually took the time to look at each cadet's face before finally issuing his sincere finale. "Best of luck, to you all."

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Six armored cars left the great gates of Balamb Garden and rode across the fertile plains of Alcauld headed for the port city of Balamb. A three-hour ride across the sea in a heavily-armed naval destroyer would lead them towards the burning wreckage of the Dollet Dukedom. What befell them there was a product to test their mettle, and each cadet knew it. Except maybe Seifer. Squad B sat resting in the second armored car, and Seifer laid back comfortably against the wall as if it was a pleasure cruise. Since this was his third time trying, and he was enrolled in special priviledges to bypass any excruciating requirements, he was naturally yawning at the whole prospect. Being a member of the Disciplinary Committee, let alone being the "King" of it, had some very distinguishable ups and downs. On the bright side, you had insurmountable authority to spy on the lower classmen who were doing illegitimate and/or improper behaviors and then act accordingly within the confines of Balamb Garden law to punish the little rascal. He grinned to himself as he recalled all the little nasty perks the job came with when he was sure that the Guardians weren't monitoring him too closely. The downside to being a guardhound was that you had to fuck up once to get it. He grinned even wider at his mishap that caused the whole deal-- a midnight raid on the school's alcohol supply down in the central tower's cellar. He expedited a boatload of gin off of that round and had become too sick to return to his dorm-- _oh, all the fun times of yesteryear_, he thought to himself.

His partners, meanwhile, were consumed in other thoughts. Both faced away from him, and both had their heads down lost in thought. Squall's eyes were closed, but he was only meditating. The familiarity of comfort was returning to him, as an impending battle was on his doorstep. His skills in the training center were about to be more than just mere skills, and he was getting more excited as the moments crept nearer. He was always like that on days when hard tasks penetrated his being; the mornings were always dreaded and plagued with anticipation, but as the moment drew nearer a feeling of lucidity would purge all that unknown ambiguity from his system, causing him to shine brighter from within but unfortunately appearing more dark and cynical on the outside. People had learned to step out of his way, when these moments arose. Regarding Seifer, he felt that the right thing to do would be to just let it pass. He was curious, though, if the buzz-cut boy was actually going to do any work on this test today.

Zell was quiet, but he was more nervous. Understandably, this was the most important day of his life, and he was overall worried that he wasn't going to make it... or worse... die in the process. He would clinch his fists at the thought of death-- there was so much he wanted to do, and death was not a part of that equation, no way no how. He was very good with his fists, capable of knocking creatures clean off their hindsights. He wasn't all that bad with daggers, too, but bladed weapons weren't his cup of tea. His eye crept to his side to look at Squall's gunblade. That intrigued him right there. He saw an ammunition case next to the sword and (since he had never actually seen Squall's weapon before, nor any other person's gunblade ever in his life) naturally grew very curious about the weapon's use. How could a sword be able to fire a bullet or a shotgun shell? The thought was just tearing the back of his mind to shreds. "Yo, Squall?"

Seifer lapsed from his evil-minded flashbacks, Quistis (who had been quietly contemplating the rest of her enormous task left on her schedule) looked up harshly at the sudden outburst, and Squall still had his eyes closed. He didn't seem to hear the inquiry.

"Show me your gunblade, will ya?"

Seifer snorted. _What a silly thing to ask_, he thought. Squall lifted his head up to Zell and cocked an eyebrow.

"Come on, man, I've never actually seen one of those before! How does it work?"

Squall looked at him as if Zell had a hole in his head.

"Just a peek, man?"

No response.

Well this threw the whole thing off. Zell never could figure out why Squall was so rude sometimes. "Why you being so selfish, man? All I want to know is how does the gun part work?"

"Tch," Seifer snorted, "a wimpy little fist-fighter wouldn't know how to shoot and swipe at the same time. It takes a certain amount of skill to be able to pull off a quick burst of gunfire while working up a good hit on your opponent."

Zell asked, "How is that so hard?"

"The drawback," Squall finally chirped, barely audible, "could very well blow your head off."

Zell started. "Whoa, it talks! I'm sorry, man, I didn't hear you, what did you say?"

Squall sighed. "The drawback from the trigger releases the bullet so fast that a whiplash could sent it ricocheting off the back of the blade and into your skull. You always gotta watch how you pull it." Sitting up straighter, he added, "I'm trying to concentrate, so can you please just shut up?"

Seifer smiled, surprised. He liked that sort of fervor. Zell, though, just grew more berating. "Geez, man. You never change, you know that?" He got to his feet, too anxious now to remain seated. Quistis, annoyed, watched him start practicing some punches and kicks in the air.

Before she could say anything, Seifer beat her to it, although not in the way she wanted. "Stop that, Zell, that's annoying," and in an afterthought he added, "Only chicken-wusses beat around in the air, you know."

Squall looked up with a weird expression on his face, and Zell took a minute before clenching his fists together. Quistis stood up and finally ordered them to calm it, and all three of the men piped down. Zell, peeved, folded his arms tight across his chest and started shaking his foot up and down. Seifer just laughed quietly to himself. Squall, meanwhile, had a sudden thought pop up in his mind. This was certainly not the time to bring it up, but it was nagging him too much.

"Instructor?"

Quistis, surprised by the formality, took a while to collect herself before acknowledging him.

"I don't know if you remember or not, you might have seen her elsewhere maybe, but that day I was in the infirmary after the training center fight, did you happen to see an informally-dressed girl with short brown hair in there?"

Seifer perked up a little, and Zell stopped shaking his foot.

Quistis blinked. _What type of question was this?_ "A girl in the infirmary? Maybe, an out-of-town co-op student, or something? I don't know, I can't help you there, Squall. Is there a problem?"

Squall's heart sank. He was searching for answers too badly it seemed. "No, not really. Thanks, though."

"Oh, shit." All three looked at Seifer laughing and barely containing any decency to himself. "Wow, this is wonderful. I've got Chicken-wuss and a guy who just reached puberty in my squad. Unbelievable."

Quistis silenced Zell with a nod to her whip, before the tattooed boy could run over there and plant a fist into the chin of the buzz-cut boy.

* * *

The cars pulled into the port of Balamb and stopped at the dock in a neat diagonal pattern. All eighteen members hopped out and fell in line to a rectangular formation. A leading member of SeeD strode in front of them and directed their attention to the group of destroyers docked up by the pier. Adjusting slightly, each of them could see along the horizon billows of smoke floating into the sky. A sinking feeling crouched on them that the going might get tougher than easier. The leading SeeD bellowed at them hoarsly to enter their designated ships, and each of them filed out into their assignments.

The destroyers were equipped with three M60 machine guns for the armor-piercing effects on Galbadia's mechanical soldiers; the ships were also equipped with three elemental guns that fired magic bullets that rotated from fire to ice to lightning at the push of a button. A large drill was manufactured to each front to enable a thorough ramrod into opposing ships, something that was of great use in a naval battle unless the other fleet carried a rocket booster on its deck which would incinerate that drill in a heartbeat. The Balamb destroyers were fast and agile vessels, while the Ultima-bomb armed submarines and aircraft carriers were slower but deadlier. Balamb Garden had perfected the art of fusing the highly toxic chemical Ultima into a condensed plastic tube. An atom travelling at high speeds could hit the nucleus and set off a devastating chain reaction within that tube casing. Unfortunately, the bombs were too heavy at this stage forcing the subs and carriers to be backburners in the naval assault. The carriers would hang back in the distance and send the unmanned drones hovering around Dollet cutting off the Galbadian naval force, while the subs would wait for the call to unleash an Ultima bomb. This was a test for SeeD, though, and the ground forces were here to sound the call.

The first three squads took one of the vessels, while the other three took the one beind it. SeeD members and the cadet's instructors took a third vessel, and the entire Balamb army unit and navy took the rest. As the engines slowly heated up, heartrates began to flutter. The vessels departed, and the rapid speed with which they made it across the sea amazed even the most hardened veteran of war. A couple of small drones inside the ships descended little video screens that showed the scene of Dollet. Cameras hooked onto the tops of the ships showed the burning ruins of the beachfront. Farther up north in the mountains, where the majority of the Dukedom citizens lived was flaming up as well. Unmanned Galbadian aircraft flew across the ransacked city here and there strafing against unseen targets. As the ships sped across the water, rapidly cutting down what would have been a three-hour trip by underwater tram down to virtually an hour's pitch, the city became clearer and clearer in the viewfinder and the enemy had become aware of their presence.

An order sounded off among the Galbadian officers, and a small fleet of aircraft sputtered in a looming arc away from the city and out across the sea. The fleet of twenty Balamb ships came into their sights some five hundred yards away, and the aircraft unloaded a barrage of missiles. Most of the missiles exploded ontop of the water, as their trajectory was terribly off, but a few hit the sides of the forefront vessels. The SeeD cadets were jarred around, and the vessels rocked in the waves. The navy reacted with round after round of 7.62 mm cartridges and a hefty round of lightning plasma bursts. The combined attack disentigrated two dozen of the thirty-man team of aircraft, the destroyed chunks of metal falling in pieces into the ocean waves. Four of the ships were leaking in their hulls with fifteen sailors dead from a direct blast impact on the starboard side of the leading ship. The beachfront was in sight, and the Galbadian generals communicating from high up in the mountains ordered heavier artillery down at Lapin Beach.

The front ten Balamb vessels anchored hard over the brown, gravelly sand, and their main doors opened up. A large spiked drone flew out from a crudely-established guardtower down near the southeastern dockyards of Dollet and sent a large bomb down on three of the opening Balamb vessels. The explosion rocked the exiting soldiers and armed sailors into the jagged edges of their ships, killing one of the nine SeeDs in the process. Brown sand and charred body parts flew in all directions, and one of the ships fell on its side and completely blocked the entrance of an opening vessel slamming the hydraulics of that ship shut and trapping the sailors inside. The vessels carrying the cadets and the other SeeDs pulled up further south along the beach and opened their doors. The large spiked drone dodged a huge plasma burst from an unanchored vessel and floated high in the sky, preparing an even larger radiant bomb. The eighteen cadets vacated the "relative" safety of their ship and sprinted across the charred and glass-strewn sand, some very tense looks plastered on their faces. The large spiked drone let out a heaving sigh and dropped a huge bomb on eight of the beached ships. The explosion rocked it upwards a bit and completely decimated six of its eight targets. Huge chunks of metal went flying in the air, and the fiery bang sent great waves slicing everywhere. Soldiers and sailors were driven backwords and forwards and sometimes both at the same time. Most of the cadets didn't get to safety quick enough and were knocked into the sand by the immense shockwave that deafened all sound and made the sky look bright white. One of the airborne chunks of metal sliced a squad leader's head clean off, and another left a girl's leg barely hanging by a thread.

Three more drones joined the sashaying spiked drone and started raining multiple bombs all along the beachfront completely destroying nine of the total twenty vessels. Twelve were still out in the water, and a combined volley of machine caliber bullets and firebombs dismantled the three newcomers and sent the devastating spiked drone burning into the capitol building of the Dollet Dukedom. The beautiful crystalline dome of the federal building caved from the weight of the machine and joined the rest of its dishelved structure in the burning city. Four of the cadets lay dead from the drone onslaught, and as the survivors brushed as much sand and blood from themselves as they could, a Galbadian offensive swarmed in. A fifth cadet died from nine bullet holes splitting his chest into swiss cheese. A girl and her squad leader quicky fired the first retailiations knocking an ice blast spell into the three enemy soldiers in the frontline, and the rest of the cadets followed suit. The eight remaining SeeDs reacted quicker than the cadets and found great high ground to get the advantage; using their experiences well, they rained holy hell with fantastic spells and ranged weapons along the back half of the advancing Galbadian squad. Squall and Seifer let their gunblades do a lot of work, pulling off a couple of great trigger-fires that made huge bleeding holes in several of the G-Army soldier's bodies. Two of the Squad leaders were dead, and their subordinates were at a loss of direction and maneuverability. Some of them lay whimpering in the blood-soaked streets of the city, clutching at GF necklaces and shutting their eyes really tight in a disillusioned attempt to make the carnage go away.

Squads B and C were the only ones at the heat of the battle not affected by some sort of casualty at that moment. Squad A, in charge of protecting the back entrance to the city proper, was totally severed. Squad D, in charge of manning the beachfront, was one man down and one girl extremely frightened and paralyzed. Squad's E and F were running around in an aimless fashion, barely avoiding stray bullets. The Galbadian army, though, was losing ground. With the combined effort of superior SeeD power at their leverage spot and the overwhelming force of two gunblade specialists and a surprisingly fierce martial artist in Squad B, the enemy troops reduced to a third of their number retreated and escaped to the mountain pass.

Seifer cursed, spat on the ground, and advanced forward motioning for his partners to follow him. They passed into the town square-- their point of holdout-- and cornered a large number of troops. A spray of gunfire hit Zell and Squall in the leg and Seifer across the back. All three fighters ducked behind cover and prepared a second offensive. Zell was at a loss for ranged blunt weapons, but Squall had given him his Quetzacotyl gem, and the martial artist focused on the thunder god's words and summoned a huge thunderbomb of energy that hurled itself into the side of a building and blew back ten Galbadian soldiers, fatally injuring eight of them. Squall noticed a slightly-overturned gas canister next to a bombed-out dry goods shop. He readied an armor-piercing tungsten bullet into his Rough Divide, crazily ran out in the open, and kneeled. Swinging the blade up to his shoulder, he pulled the trigger, and a blinding light created the illusory warp effect on the steel and fired a crisp blue bullet straight into the casing on that canister. A massive explosion rocketed ten more soldiers off their feet, slicing their bodies in half. Seifer followed up his partner's crazy burst and hobbled out in the open. He could feel his back aching and splitting open little by little, but the adrenaline was on him like a great dose of opium and he leapt into the remaining crowd of terrified and shellshocked Galbadian soldiers. Quick swipes of his Hyperion blade tore body parts limb by limb, coating his silver trenchcoat with blood and guts. Very few soldiers escaped alive, and Seifer was furious at even that little amount.

"Come on and get me, you vicious bastards!" he yelled after them, a manic look sprawling across his face. He was itching to follow them, but the surprises this enemy force had left still didn't dry up. The Galbadian generals had led the SeeD forces into a trap. The experienced SeeD members were caught off guard as well, for as they watched Squad B single-handedly defeat three dozen soldiers with simple ease and at the same time Squad C mopping up the beachfront proper while losing a boy in the process, they failed to notice the gigantic eight-legged monstrosity creeping up behind them. A nasty cluster bomb was heard after it was too late to react. Two of the SeeDs were incinerated instantly and the other six fell to the ground in a crumpled and burned-up heap. The mechanical spider had unleashed a devastating cluster-ray bomb, a fantastic singe of white light that charred anything it came in immediate contact with. The spider hopped from its resting place in the shadows of the city's dilapidated civic center onto the charred and broken beach front. It was visible from the central square.

"Seifer!" Squall shouted as he fixed quickly the wound on his leg, fear for the first time ever wrenching his voice.

"What?!?" came the reply, a mix of confusion and excitement.

"It's the X-ATM092!"

"That's sounds Trabian to me, you fool!"

"It's Galbadia's finest equipment, a real match for our Ultima bombs. There's no way we can beat that." As he said this, the boys witnessed the black monster crush to death one cadet with its massive foreleg and then incinerate a SeeD vessel with one shot of its cluster bomb.

Seifer too looked queasy. He whistled, "This is interesting."

"Interesting, fuck, this is a nightmare!" Zell squeaked, painfully making his wound worse by not applying the gauze properly.

7.62 mm bullets and a triumervate of magical bombs lit up across the waves straight into the belly of the eight-legged beast, severing one of the mechanical hinges connecting two if its powerful legs. Rearing to one side, it counterattacked and shot a gigantic clusterbomb into the waters in front of one of the attacking ships. The force of the explosion rocked the ship completely out of the water, turning it upside down, and barreling into another ship tearing a massive hole in its hull. Oil and coal leaked out, igniting a spark, and a massive fireball roasted out in the water.

Way offshore, the submarines and the aircraft carriers received the green light, and twenty unmanned Balamb drones took off the deck of the _B.A. Alcauld_ and a large Ultima bomb was launched out of the water-- projected target zone: all along the beachfront, collatoral damage be damned. Squall, Seifer, and Zell saw it coming and some in Squads C and D did, too. The cadets aware of the new strategy evacuated the beachfront as fast as they could, leaving behind the too frightened cadets shivering in the nooks and crannies of the devastated buildings. The X-ATM092 spider stood its ground and watched the devastation it had just wrought, unaware of the impending bomb. The Ultima bomb dipped high in the sky before falling like a rock straight in a drunken arc onto a precise coordinate on the beach. The mile-wide shockwave radius around the thirty-foot impact zone brought down every structure in the front half of the city proper. From their position in the central square further inland, they felt the heat first and then the whole world was knocked upside down, and they went unconscious for a good three minutes before waking again. Building plaster and undistinguishable materials covered their bodies, and new fresh bloody wounds had popped up all over their bodies. A loud ringing noise fluttered in each of their ears, and it took them a long while to get used to the overly bright surroundings. When all seemed fairly normal, they realized that the air was deathly quiet. The city was an absolute fucking mess, and it was probably ruined forever. None of the buildings in this section of the city was spared damage. All were barely even recognizable as buildings. _Hopefully_, Squall thought, _the citizens left before the bulk of this happened._ He assumed that there were lots of refugees, and that they were permanently displaced.

The gems their Guardian Forces came in supplied much appreciated healing powers, since the gods had taken a genuine liking to them. Slowly, the wounds on their bodies closed up and stopped bleeding, but they realized that they had just barely survived. The impact of the Ultima bomb had sent debris flying everywhere, and Lord knew if any of the other cadets had made it out alive. Squall was growing very irritated, for this wasn't going as planned. He ached, but he had to get up. Forcing himself to stand, he saw in the sky the Balamb air drones flying around looking to pick off any Galbadians in the mountains. Quietness now prevailed there in the central square-- the spider it seemed had died in the blast. "Now, we just have to wait," he said. His voice was hoarse and weak.

"Wait for what?" Zell asked. He was still squeaking, and this time he was coughing up blood.

"Our monitors are still working, thank Lord." Squall looked at his neck, where the bug device was, and noticed the light was still green. "Now, we just wait for their call to leave."

"So, we guard this.... this central square?"

"That's.... the gist of things."

A loud noise came from a sword hitting a large object. Seifer had hit his gunblade on the cement. "Fuck this shit! We've been had by bad intelligence. Now they just want us to be on standby in the aftermath?!?" His face was twisted and frothing, and his eyes were a menace to behold. His clothes were mixed in building soot and dried blood, and his face was smeared with various shades of gook. "This is beyond comprehension!!!"

Zell looked at Squall in shock, but the scar-faced man could not explain the sudden shock of the situation. What was there to do now, anyway? The one thing he did know was that his body was tired, and he was swaying. The fountain was torn in half with a massive jagged edge on one side, but there was still room for seating on a part of it, so he sat clumsily down. All three lapsed into an awkward silence as they waited for a message to come over the intercom in their bugs. Squall closed his eyes, and even that movement was sore. _This _is_ unbelievable_, he thought to himself. _What the hell were they thinking? Even the SeeDs were dismantled from the onslaught. But... that was quite a rush, I must say. I haven't experienced something like that in-- in..._ He remembered the fight against Leviathan when he was nine. It was very brief, he admitted, but it was the most exhilirating thing he had ever done. And, really, if he could stand up to a god at such a young age, he could sure as hell live through a black-magic bomb. Even if he didn't feel healthy afterwards.

The Hyperion blade hit the cement again, knocking both Squall and Zell out of their reveries. "God damn this fucking piece of shit!" Seifer cursed, spittle flying and hanging out of his mouth. He slammed his weapon again so hard that the gun part assembly almost fell off. "Still keeping us waiting, after we nearly become incontinent?"

Squall and Zell looked at each other and knew that he was making a stand.

Seifer straightened up, wincing only slightly at the wounds in his back. "Is this some sort of shit dog training?!?"

A sharp noise was heard in the distance. Squall shot to his feet too fast, stumbling a little bit. Zell quickly got to his feet and started looking around instinctively for the sound. Seifer brought a hand up to silence any conversation and pointed to the very back of an alleyway several hundred yards away. A small squad of Galbadian soldiers were clearing the obstructing pathway to get to the mountains. The path led on a well-constructed road deep into a part of the mountainside that wasn't inhabited by residential or commercial neighborhoods. The path led to a defunct-looking communications tower. Seifer slowly tapped his blade against the cement, a thin smile slowly forming on his lips. Squall knew immediately what he was thinking.

"Hey," Zell asked, the realization not hitting him just yet, "what is that up there?"

"Our next destination," Seifer cooly responded. His voice was distant, as were his eyes. He seemed to have finally spun his world in a calmer vein.

Finally hitting him, Zell balked at the remark. "No way! That's against orders!"

Seifer flinched. "Orders! Who's orders?"

"SeeD's orders!"

"Fuck their orders. I'm the captain of this Squad, and we're probably the only ones left alive on this godforsaken rock. And, I might add, without a bottle of gin to boot."

Not giving up, Zell turned to a different source. "Squall!! The guy's gone insane. Please!"

Squall dropped his head. He didn't want this right now. But who was to stop them anyway? "I stand by the Captain's decision."

Seifer didn't look, but he grinned, and his mind was churning. "You want to wreak some havoc, too, don't you?"

"No, actually, I want to leave here. Do something. Anything. This is driving me insane, too."

Seifer stopped grinning and seemed to grow more inward. "Good. You'll thank me when the time comes." Sheathing Hyperion, he stood more erect as he could get and proclaimed, "We, Squad B, as the only heroic squad in this campaign will move to that tower... and then.... reclaim it for our own. That sounds noble enough."

"This is an Exam!!!" Zell shrieked. "An important one. We have to stick to orders!"

"Then if you recall, Chicken-wuss," Seifer coyly pointed out, "all Squad members must follow the orders of their Squad Leaders at _all_ times. Remember?"

Zell clenched a fist and thought up a whole slew of derogatory names inside his head that he just could not say out loud at that moment. Seifer smiled at Zell's obvious internal debate and turned towards the exit of the city proper with them in tow.

* * *

A long bridge over water consumed in burning oil, broken metal, disheveled buildings, and blood connected Dollet proper with the Dollet mountain suburbia. The bridge was a hideous sight and a very unstable structure. Several portions of its length had been bombed through by Galbadian drones, and several of the support columns trembled underneath their feet. The structure seemed insignificant, though, compared to what sprawled atop it. Hundreds of dead civilians and Dollet soldiers who had attempted to escape the city littered the span of bombed-out bridge. Some of their faces held forever expressions of fear and painful agony, while some other faces were completely devoid of flesh. A rough estimate would put the total collatoral damage to at least a fifth of Dollet's urban population of some one hundred thousand. No telling what lay on the other side of the bridge. The scene was dreadfully forlorn, and all three of the walking survivors felt huge lumps enter their throats as they carefully treaded across mangled and twisted bodies. Flies had already begun to swarm, and the sound of their incessant wings were the only sounds daring to utter in the smoky stillness of the Dollet infrastructure.

It took them a while to cross the gruesome median, but they finally made the other side and beheld more passed civilians and soldiers crumpled in heaps on the cobblestone pathway and in the sloping grassy fields. A faint blubbering sound alerted them on their right, and when they looked behind a mound of dishelved dirt they found a Dollet soldier laying on his side. His right hand clutched maddeningly at his torn stomach, and his left hand applied pressure to his bleeding temple. He was coughing up blood and whimpering in his state; coherent words coming across his lips found that he was quietly praying for a more peaceful transition into the afterlife. The steps of the three cadets frightened him, and he winced as he gasped, "W-W-Who are you?" His voice was broken, and the tears coming out of his eyes were tinged softly with blood.

A small pity that surprised him overtook Squall, and he leant on one knee in front of the soldier. Looking over the poor man's blood-stained brown uniform, a great contempt for war siezed him for a brief moment. "Don't worry, friend. We're SeeD candidates. We've been dispatched by Balamb Garden to help in the relief effort."

His words seemed to be lost on the soldier, for life's phases were passing slowly by him. The mention of Balamb seemed to get his attention better. "Balamb Garden?"

"Yes, sir. We're here to help as best as we can."

"Too late.... for that." The soldier brought his head down and wheezed. He was almost through. "I... th-thank you, though, SeeD candidate. I... I wish you could have c-come sooner. The hills.... they are a mess."

"What's going on up there?" Seifer asked, pointing into the direction of the communications tower. Zell balked at his leader's rudeness, but Seifer was determined to kill some more soldiers before his time was up.

The dying Dollet soldier struggled to look in the direction Seifer was pointing at, but he seemed to remember the purpose regardless. "That tower... heh... the enemy wants it.... b-badly. They punctured me in the gut... pretty badly."

Squall flinched for the soldier had dropped his right hand limply to the floor. A piece of his small intestine was hanging out.

Seifer flinched, too, but pressed on. "I know this is hurting you, sir, but this is of dire importance!"

The Dollet soldier licked his lips a little bit, swallowed a few times, and said very weakly, "Be... very.. c-careful up there." He died, slumping hard next on the mound.

Squall touched the man's forehead, said a quick hopeful prayer, and stood up to face Seifer. Zell was rubbing his temples and not saying a word. Seifer was at first motionless, silently beholding the dead in front of him. He was strangely quiet for his persona, and he looked at Squall and regarded him with a slightly sincere respect. Finally, he asked, "Is this what you expected?"

"I..." Squall didn't know what to say at first. "I expected a fight, to say the least."

"Well, I can give you a fight. This is something different."

"How so?"

"It's more of a rush. I feel very good about this."

"That's kind of morbid of you to say that."

Seifer snorted. "Shit, this must be your first real battle. You scared?"

"Well, it's not my first, but I'm not too scared. I'm more worried about the intelligence problem. That can make or break a case."

"Yeah, that's always a problem."

"I try not to think about fear. It ruins the moment."

Seifer looked outward, at the whole of Dollet Proper. A large grin crawled across his face, and he raised his hands as if to hug the entire world before him. "I love battles! I live for them! I fear _nothing_." His "nothing" escaped his mouth in a hissing tone. "The way I look at it, as long as you make it out of a battle alive, you're one step closer to fulfilling your dream."

Zell started, and Squall asked, "Your dream?"

Seifer made a fist in the air, as if practicing for an important speech. "Someday, I'll tell you about my romantic dream." Abruptly, he turned on a dime and hightailed it up the pathway to the tower, leaving Squall and Zell watching him in complete surprise and ambiguity. Before they could respond, a sound of running footsteps greeted them, and they turned to see a petite and shapely female cadet running towards them. Squinting against the harsh sunset falling in the west, Squall made out that the girl looked awfully familiar. Only when she got up close to them did he realize that it was the girl he had shown around the campus several weeks before-- or _somewhat_ shown around the campus. She was out of breath and in the same wounded condition that they were in. Her normally cheerful pale skin was smudged with dirt, asbestos, and dried blood. Her field uniform was torn in the back, and her stylish brown hair was completely ruffled-- as if that mattered at this present point.

She stopped in front of them and gasped for air. "Are you Squad B?"

Zell helped her stand, for she was tilting on her balance a little, and he said, "Yes, we're the members of Bravo."

She looked up at them, and her hazel eyes were the only bright spots emanating out of a dirty face. She was a pretty girl, even if her voice was slightly jarring on the ears. When she noticed Squall, she did a double-take. "You're the guy who showed me around Balamb earlier." The statement was made as an awesome declaration. Zell looked over at him and smiled a little bit.

Squall grunted. "Yeah, it's nice to see you made it."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, oh my goodness. It was sheer terror, if I ever saw it. I'm the only one from my Squad alive."

"What?!?" Zell cried. "Where were you?"

"The Squad Leader refused to leave the beachfront even as the missile was soaring. I begged him to leave at once, but he stubbornly stayed his spot." She bit her lip. "I-I don't want to recall what happened to him."

Squall silently admired that Squad Leader. A duty was a duty and an order was an order. He didn't think it was the perfect time to say it, but even in the most atrocious circumstances, he was prepared to lay his life down on the line. Events transpiring around him, though, were threatening to push his buttons. He wasn't going to let that happen without a fight of his own. "What's your name?"

"Tilmitt. Selphie Tilmitt. And I already know you all's names!" Looking at Zell, she continued, "You're Zell Dincht, the martial arts expert who's got a crush on that pig-tailed girl in the library." She mused to herself at his nervous sputtering and then turned to the other cadet. "You are Squall Leonhart. Everyone talks about you."

"For all the right reasons, I'm sure."

"They say you're pretty good at fighting."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Whatever 'they' say is probably embellished for campfire story sake, I can assure you."

Looking him up and down, she contrarily replied, "Your stature suggests otherwise."

_Stature?_ "I've just seen a lot."

She only smiled and straightened up, suddenly remembering why she was running in a hurry. "I've come as a messenger to you. The surviving instructors are wanting everyone to assemble back at the beachfront. The throat bugs are disrupted, and the communications analysts are out of commission. The Exam's going to be graded on a different scale that I'm not sure of at this point."

"So, we're to withdraw?"

"Yes, immediately. Where is Seifer? He's your Captain, right?"

Squall froze. The shit was hitting the fan now. He pointed behind him. "He's gone up to that tower."

"What?" Selphie asked. "He can't do that."

"Tell that to that maniac!" Zell derided. He was getting worried, too. This could affect their perfomance by not adhering to their order.

"We're supposed to be down by 1900 hours, and that's in thirty minutes!"

"As a member of a squad, I cannot abandon that Squad leader's orders," Squall damningly declared, "We have to go tell him ourselves." Turning, he frantically ran as fast as he could towards the tower, Selphie and Zell reluctantly following him. Zell cursed under his breath, and Selphie wished she was back home working on that foolish Garden Festival.

***********************************************************************************

The pathway led to a large hill overlooking the shimmering sea. A huge communications tower with a hefty-sized radar antennae fixed on its roof sat perched on the crest. A single silo, rickety in appearance, and seemingly abandoned. Yet, a small squad of Galbadian troops holed itself up in there, frantically radioing in to the southern half of the continent for backup support against the Balamb threat. The frequency on the other end relayed rejections of the requests, and explained that the ultimate goal of the incursion had been established. The city of Dollet was destroyed, the majority of its citizens were permanently displaced, the military was gutted, and the final touches were being assembled ontop of the tower. The tower was to be evacuated after the major in charge was done calibrating the radar antennae to make radio frequencies across the continent. The Galbadian troops refused to look at the bright side of things and continued to fritter within the tower, only minorly protecting the major and his seargant calibrating the antennae up on the roof.

Major Biggs and Sgt Wedge had no idea that Seifer was in the building. The minor protection was extremely weak and horrible. Only one bullet escaped a gun and lightly grazed Seifer's shoulder. The blood-stained turquoise gunblade severed limbs upon limbs and then, as an afterthought, severed the severed limbs some more. His eyes seemed to be far away, as his deed commenced into darker realms.

On the roof, the wind was howling fiercely causing the antennae to shake gratingly against the metal scaffolding. The officer's red armored suit was bunched tight across his chest and back, making it difficult for him to fully concentrate on his work. Even worse, his schizophrenic subordinate was actually chewing the fingernail off his thumb. Wedge was always a lightweight. Biggs wondered what girl in her right mind was intent on marrying the prick. The officer wasn't aware, though, that a large shadow would constantly flicker across the deck of the roof scaring Wedge each time it happened-- Biggs was never an observational man, just ask his four wives.

A cog in the control box slammed on his thumb. "Damn it, fuck! What's with these crappy tools?!!"

Wedge gulped for the shadow ran across them again. Distracted from his work, the officer actually saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. Scanning the sky for the source, he failed to notice the click-click of Hyperion's trigger. A small bit of buckshot hit the side of a support wall, and fragments tore into Bigg's back. Before Wedge could react, Seifer had the gunblade pointed at him. A look of pure glee was on his smudgy face. "Are you two the officers-in-charge here?"

The red-clothed officer squinted at the cadet and wheezed in his pain. "Just who the hell are you, boy? You shouldn't be playing around with sharp metal like that in your hand."

Seifer laughed. "Oh-ho. You have no idea."

Movement behind him made him see his wretched partners and an unknown girl make their way up the ladder. "Seifer," Squall asked, astonished, "what have you done down there?!?"

"They were in the way."

"What?" Biggs asked. "All of them are dead."

Seifer regarded each of the two enemy soldier's frightened looks with a great passion. "In various forms, gentleman." He flicked his blade with barely a movement of his wrist, sending two rounds into his chamber. "You two are next."

The slick sound of Squall's weapon unsheathing wiped the smirk off his face. "Seifer, as your subordinate and colleague, I urge you to think up a better judgment. Besides, there is a primal order to withdraw at once. Cadet Selphie here from Squad C is the messenger of this order."

Seifer scrunched his face and dropped his gunblade, allowing Wedge to feverishly run over to Biggs and help him up. Seifer turned to Squall and said harshly. "Withdrawal is never an option."

"It is when the Headmaster suggests it."

"The Headmaster, damn," he hissed vehemently, "that's pure rubbish."

"Straight from his mouth," Selphie confirmed.

"Come on, Seifer," Zell pleaded. "With all due respect, we have to go now!"

Distracted, Seifer curtly spoke to the two Galbadian soldiers, "The fuck are you doing?"

They didn't reply, and Biggs took a wrench and rammed into an area of the mechanical switchboard. The collision seemed to fix the problem, and the generator turned on. Sparks wrapped the cables connecting to the antennae, and hydraulics worked in synch underneath the roof. Green lights appeared all over the base of the radar, and a huge column shot up from within the communications tower. Hitting the sky, the column unfolded into a larger antennae shield and grew a needle that poked out the center of it. A satellite in space picked up the needle's signal, and a faint beam of light could be seen stretching from the atmosphere to the tip of the needle. Wedge gasped, "Communications are up!"

"The battle is over," Biggs declared proudly. "Our mission is successful."

The glee from Seifer's face was gone now, and he leapt back frought with anger. "What mission is successful, you Galbadian fucks!"

Biggs, defiant now, said, "None of your business, cadet."

Before the Balamb students could react, the large dark shadow that had haunted Wedge earlier revealed itself to be the shadow of an enormous deformed monster. A cross between a bat and an albatross with the torso of a man and a huge spiked stump for legs. The Galbadian soldiers shrieked and escaped down a secret manhole, leaving the four teenagers to defend themselves alone. The massive deformity exhaled a sickly swirling blue goop of air that hung like a poison in the air. It seemed to know some magical spells, for it raised its hand and sent large bolts of lightning all over the deck. A bolt hit Squall in the back, and another flipped Zell around on his ass. Seifer dodged a bolt, and Selphie hid behind an overturned scaffolding. She unhooked the nunchuck brawlers from around her waist and leapt out in a passionate fury, whacking the blunt weapon straight into the creature's chest. Squall regained his footing and stabbed up and into the back of the creature tearing a deep incision through the soft flesh. Seifer readied Hyperion and sounded off the two shells he had saved for the brains of the routers, and the buckshot made two big bleeding holes in the face of the creature. The massive deformity lost its airborne balance and crashed onto the deck, howling in a gargling fury. Its massive wings flailed uselessly on the deck, and Zell calmly walked over to its bleeding brain and crushed it with one hard stomp of his foot. Black blood oozed over his shoe and ankle, and the deformity gargled one last nasty wheeze.

Unsure of what to make of the horrid creature, they nevertheless did a victory throw of their weapons and realized their situation. Selphie looked at Seifer and pleaded, "We're going to be late, if we do not leave now!"

The trenchcoat wearer cursed silently to himself and accepted the message. They escaped the tower and headed back to the city proper. Treading over the bodies, they trekked the length of the bridge and heard a low sound. Some of the columns quaked too rapidly. From their position on the city proper side, they watched as nearly half of the bridge lost its support and fell into the abysmal waters. Just another sign of the city's demise.

The battle was truly over. The beachfront was a charred crater. The impact from the big bomb had decimated a football field-size hole in the city's front, and the SeeD vessels and commercial buildings had been flattened. The mechanical spider, X-ATM092 was twisted in half and a smoking ruin. Hundreds of portions of human bodies lay everywhere. Smoke and burning objects littered the entire city. The Balamb air force had departed, and only three of the twenty naval vessels remained intact. Only four of the nine SeeDs had survived the debacle, and several of the instructors and support groups were still around tending to the copious wounded. Out of eighteen cadets, it looked like only seven had made it through-- three of the squads were devoid of members. One of the SeeDs limped over to the only patch of brown sand left on the beach and made a little marker with a piece of building she found in the city. A commemoration to the countless dead on both sides of the conflict. Squall watched her, watched the SeeDs and cadets and instructors, and then turned to view the city as a whole. It was an absolute wreckage. The downtown area was gone, the warehouse and arts districts were virtually gone as well. The financial districts were gutted and burning, and the Duke's residence was shattered and torn. It would take a generation to restore the losses of this once great port city. Even if he made it into SeeD, which he didn't doubt at this point, this was what he would remember the most. Somebody at the campus had once relayed an old quote that had been used several hundred years ago that went _War comes in many forms, yet never has a different outcome. War makes money flow and time stand still, yet never compensates for their return. War enriches some, yet never repairs others. War comes often, yet never relinquishes. War, in all its forms, is hell._ Was there any way around it? Would the loss of tens and thousands of civilians ever amount to anything? Would the outcome of life change if he quit the business and declared the acts to be so unconstitutional and immoral to the well-being of society? Would a parent so accept the deaths of millions of people they didn't know, but yet they'd be so compelled to cheer for their son or daughter committing the deaths in the process? Or blame the opponent for their childs' deaths? Why did it have to happen? He looked at the ruined city and thought these things, and he realized for the first time that he was responsible. Why his heart slowly hardened standing there, he knew not a direct answer. He knew what he had to do, and he was prepared mentally to deal with the effects. He would carry this burden for the rest of his life.

He turned toward the sea, saw that the vessels were ready to depart, and followed his fellow colleagues back to the school from which he would represent.


	5. Strange Days

_After the battle_

_A party, a girl, a dream._

_Strange days lay ahead_

They were delighted to see the port once again. They were also very sad, yet tears could not swell up in their eyes. After nearly a decade of drilling a life story, the emotions did not hit most of the cadets nor the more experienced suits. Relief, though, at a more safer landing site drove back most of their fatigue, invigorating them to carry out the day. The three lonesome vessels made a slow trek back home taking longer than the necessary three-hour crossing. Along the way, another cadet died from blood loss after the navy surgeons could not mend his battered gut. The operating table was too messy to view, and Squall and his colleagues had ventured up to the deck to catch a more pleasant view of the night sky. Quistis joined them and was thoroughly relieved to be heading towards safer constraints. She was not terribly happy, however, because she carried some heavy news.

Squall could feel the tension emanating from her, and he felt he needed a bit of a light. He brought out a pack of smokes and distributed one to Zell and three for himself. Selphie turned up her nose and moved a few feet down to avoid the wafting fumes. Lighting a cheap vintage roll that ironically was manufactured in the now smoking ruins of Dollet, Squall looked into Quistis's troubled face and asked, "You've got some hard news, I imagine."

She looked at his three cigarettes and took one, clumsily lighting it. "Unfortunately. This thing wasn't fit to go in the first place."

"What happened?" Selphie asked, her chipper voice still on spot despite the mental and physical trauma.

"There were four ninty-man brigades on Galbadia's side."

Zell whistled.

"On top of that," she continued, "it was meant to be a Shock and Awe scenario. The Dollet Dukedom was meant to fall in order to cause a rift in the political structure of the Galbadia-Deling continent. Tensions are rising yet again between the two."

Squall blew an annoyed waft of smoke. "So, this was a bad time to have an Exam."

"No, actually. This was a perfect test of one's mettle. For the initial sake of the matter, in my opinion, you all have proven your worth just by making it out alive. And that's only by quick thinking and foreshadowing and surveying the field like a true SeeD would do."

"So how come five of them died?"

"That I cannot give a good answer for. I can just plainly say that even the best fall at times."

Squall didn't care for that. He slumped his shoulders down and smoked in silence. Zell finished his cig and tossed it nonchalantly into the water. His voice was low when he spoke. "That communications tower must've been important."

A small flare awoke in Quistis's eyes. She turned to him and said sternly. "Yes, the tower. That was not a wise choice to make."

Zell flinched, and his voice grew hectic. "We guarded the central square! It was Seifer---"

She held out her hand to stop him. "Calm down, Zell, I wasn't saying that about you."

He looked at her surprised.

She indicated Squall. "Or about him. You two did wonderful work obeying orders as strictly outlined before this fiasco started. I commend Squall here for encouraging you to follow them through as well. Your Squad Leader, however, refused to accept those terms." She sighed sadly. "He has failed once again."

The cigarette fell off of Squall's lips into the ocean. He was caught off guard so much that he didn't see it fall and escape him. "He fought really well, even if it was a little too... creative."

She turned and said nothing for a little while, before finally clouding her voice over and speaking, "Your visit to the tower opens up a new link to the chapter of the Balamb-Galbadia relationship. They, the Galbadians, are trying with all their capability to set up a stronger communications link throughout the continent. I'm not sure why, but it is very important to them for some reason."

"We were attacked by a huge monster, and it was obvious the Galbadians were not expecting it either!" Selphie chirped.

Quistis scoffed. "They brought it on themselves. The area where the tower is is uninhabited, because it was a buffer zone. Two huge rooks lay near that big hill with an invisible but highly sensitive barrier running between them. Anything that crossed it got incinerated, so the city was protected from the canyon entrance."

"What's in the canyons?" Zell asked.

"Huge monsters like the one you guys fought. Some big crazy mutated things, they call them elnoyles I believe, like the one you fought; some giant anacondas that are three times the size of a normal anaconda; and six-foot long purple lizards with huge spiked claws. It's a pretty nasty landscape in those canyons. Those rooks had held up for fourteen centuries before today. One of those fucking Galbadian drones blew one of the rooks up by mistake. The monsters came pouring through and practically killed all of the fleeing refugees."

Squall had never heard her curse before. The sound of it seemed foreign at first but kind of interesting afterwards. The silence prevailing after her revealing made him feel better. It was a relief to finally know the intelligence, but it was a total pain in the ass knowing that he could've had that from the start. He became a little disappointed when she started speaking again. Her head was down lower, so they had to crane their ears to hear her.

"We lost in total: five SeeDs, thirteen cadets, twenty out of fifty instructors, fifty sailors and soldiers, three of our aircraft, and seventeen of our ships. This is going to set Garden back heavily in the treasury."

Silence prevailed again, but it was way more heavier this time. Squall grunted, annoyed, and left the group to walk further down the deck. He hit the corner of two railings and looked up at the rising Moon. It was a full one, and he could see a couple of craters on it. It was such a bright yellow thing. He wondered if by some crazy, magical ability he could fly up there and view it in outer space. He almost laughed out loud, but the day's pains kept him from doing that. _Fly to the moon_. Every man wanted to do that. Maybe when he died that would happen; he hoped it would be shortly.

It was close to midnight when they left the three ships, and the three members of Squad B, the one member of Squad C, and the one member of Squad D formed a small loose formation. A couple of the instructors spoke a few words of encouragement, and then they let them leave. The Squad D member immediately hightailed it for the villas, and the other four heard two motorcycles approaching. Seifer smiled as Fujin and Raijin showed up in two sleek choppers. Raijin was driving Seifer's reddish-gray bike which had two gold crosses painted on the sides. Fujin was riding hers and "Rage's"-- her pet name for her burly partner.

Squall, Quistis, Zell, and Selphie watched as Seifer strutted his way over to the Disciplinary Committee patrol and lean against a pole so cooly and nonchalantly, that they thought he believed that he had passed.

Raijin got off the "King's" ride and went to shake his hand. "Seifer, ya know, like how'd it go?!?"

"Ya know" was a favorite phrase of the dark-skinned, magicka-loving martial artist. Raijin was an arrogant cheapskate lackey with a knack for sucking up. According to the silver-haired shuriken-wielding Fujin, however, there was a gentle side to him that she admired a lot. Her demeanor, though, was not as smooth and transparant as his was. Her eyepatch on her left eye gave the impression of a strict authoritarian, while his boyish face gave the impression of a vulnerable pushover.

Seifer's body language infuriated Quistis, and Squall saw out of the corner of his eye her jaw tighten and fist clench. Seifer's voice was suave. "Shit, dog. There was blood and gore everywhere. I got like fifty of them in one pitch."

Raijin beamed with joy, and Fujin made a little raise of her eyebrows.

Then Seifer's face changed to disappointment and he pointed at Squall and Zell. "Those lumpheads got in my way. Damn, dude, being a leader aint easy. Let me tell you."

Raijin laughed and sneered at Squall and Zell. Fujin pulled out a bottle of _Shumi_, a bottle of highly-sought after gin from the fabled lands of the Shumi villagers who lived somewhere up north. She handed it to Seifer with a twinkle in her eye. "SAFE?!?" It seemed apparant that her vocabulary was only good for short one-word answers, replies, and questions in which she emphasized every syllable for effect. Her emotions told her story where her spoken voice didn't.

Seifer smiled big at the reward and gladly took it, opened it, and gulped down half of the bottle right then and there. Stumbling a little, he laughed and wiped his lips with his dirty sleeve. Raijin laughed some more and exclaimed, "There's a party over on the other side of town, ya know. Some 'visitors' are here to see you, too."

"Which ones?"

"All of them," the burly man emphasized, to which the Hyperion wielder snickered in boyish glee. They hopped on their motorcycles and left the other four Balamb Garden residents there at the docks.

Zell hit the ground with his fist. The padded glove on his hand saved him the humiliation of having a broken wrist. "Damn that fucking bastard! Mr. Fucking Ego that prick is."

Quistis sighed. "Let's take it easy, you three. It's been a long day."

"Shouldn't we get back to the Garden?" Squall asked.

"It's way too late. Cid will make the announcements for SeeD tomorrow afternoon, and then the speeches will start soon afterwards. For now, though, rest sounds really good."

"Yeah, I'm soooo sleepy," Selphie said, yawning and stretching. "Where are we gonna shack up?"

"The hotel a couple blocks from here said they'd help us out. They've got some clean clothes we can wear and a shower with hot water! Oh... my that sounds good right now."

Squall nodded slowly. Fatigue had started to hit him hard. "Rest does sound good right now."

They all agreed and started walking. It was called the Hotel Balamb, since the locals couldn't think up of a better name. It was a small two-story building with thirty rooms and a nice private view of the sea. It of course had running water that was hot, free continental breakfasts, and three beds to each room plus a comfy couch. Zell immediately selected the couch, saying some crap about he always loved to stretch himself out on ones. Squall picked the middle bed, and the two girls flanked him. They each took separate showers and changed into the hotel-supplied clothes. Fatigue hit them harder than ever, and they barely got those small tasks done before they hit the beds hard and fell straight to sleep.

* * *

His dreams were battered with opaque nightmares. It was a wonder Squall could sleep for ten hours straight, for when he awoke he saw that his sheets were bunched in a big knot and his body was contortioned in an unusual position. Zell was the only one up, and for some reason he was eating a big plate of hotdogs littered in sauerkraut and steamed mushrooms. Squall found it odd that that horrid smell didn't wake the two sleeping girls up. He scrunched his nose up in disgust, but the tattooed boy did not even look up. He had already scarfed down ten of the dogs and was working on the next ten. A bottle of water was sitting next to him half empty, as well as a small bottle of antacid.

Squall plugged his nose and went out on the balcony. It was a bright ten o clock in the morning, and he stretched way back feeling all the bones creak. He felt superb at that moment, despite his haunting dreams. He could not stop remembering all the carnage he had forseen earlier, but little by little he was able to focus his mind on other things. Specifically, he leaned against the balcony railing and thought about all the cool scenarios of how he would get the SeeD certificate. He was unaware of his hands rapping out a little marching song on the railing, for he could just picture himself out on a SeeD mission at that moment, infiltrating a Galbadian hideout or visiting Trabia or even... venturing into the eastern continent in search of that lost city. A big dumb smile crawled across his face, and he was unaware of Quistis slinking her way onto the balcony. Surprising him, she smiled and closed the doors, so as to get the smell of Zell's bad taste in food away from them. "He's gonna die young if he keeps that up," she said shaking her head.

"Well, I guess he's got a good palatte."

She scrunched up her nose. "Too good, maybe." She had noticed his big grin, and she made a little laugh. "You must be feeling a lot better."

Squall didn't like the laugh, but he couldn't explain why. "Somewhat, I guess."

"Well, the war is over for us. For now at least."

He grunted. "There will be more cases."

"Maybe we'll tag team?"

"Who knows?"

She sighed. _How come he was always like this on sensitive issues?_ "You nervous about SeeD?"

"Fine time to ask that."

"I'm just asking."

"No, not at all. This is what I've been wanting for a long time."

She nodded. Before she could reply, a loud disgusted shout came from Selphie. It seemed she didn't really care for the smell. Both Squall and Quistis shook their heads and went in to clear the matter up.

Around noon, they left Balamb Port and took a leisurely time to cross the plains. The big blue bugs were out now, for the humidity had increased in the region. They were ugly-looking creatures with huge bottle-shaped heads and raspy yellowish wings that fluttered lazily in the breeze. They were extremely weak, and all four of them didn't have to expend a lot of energy to take them out. In the trek to the school, they encountered four clusters of the pesky blue bugs, and a flash of Squall's gunblade, Quistis's whip, Selphie's nunchucks, and an upkick from Zell's steel-toed boots took out the bulk of these clusters before the biting bugs decided they had had enough. They reached the school a quarter after one and sat together on a park bench.

Zell leaned back against a tree that lay next to the bench and stretched. "Ahhhh.... finally made it back. Alive, to boot."

"Seriously," Selphie chirped, stretching as well.

Quistis took off her instructor glasses and cleaned the smudges off them, while Squall lapsed into his thoughts. He looked across the campus commons and began to think once more about his future assignments. He realized that he would now be getting a set stipend, ranging from five thousand to seven thousand gil-- depending on how he did on the Exams. Another grin crawled across his face-- he could update his gunblade. He looked at the Rough Divide holster, and then thought about the new magazine he had gotten a week ago. _Weapons Mon April_ was out, and the new weapon styles were out as well. New gun models and blade models had been manufactured in Deling City with newer intricate carvings and bolt mechanisms. However, the Shear Trigger had caught his attention. It was the latest gunblade. He remembered his hands quivering as he read all the descriptions on it. Apparantly, the Shear Trigger did away from the clumsy recoil the Rough Divide enabled; it was still the same chamber and reload system, but the details were enhanced and fortified. Plus, the blade itself would adapt better to the gun assembly, shrinking the width to a more narrow size and changing the color to a more lighter gray carbonite. There was also a gem stuck on its hilt, but the magazine damningly failed to mention what that gem did.

Now that he recalled that, he grew a little irritated. _What does it do?_ He was unaware that his knuckles were rapping on the table.

Zell's voice broke his lapsing, but it was directed at Quistis. "When are the test scores coming out?"

She checked the Sun and its current position. "In about two hours, I think. We still have a little bit of time."

They lapsed into silence again, and a gentle breeze stayed for a long time and cooled each of them down. Selphie leaned back and smiled at the breeze. This is what she was craving for during her transfer. Trabia Garden was up on the northern continent, where it snowed for eight months out of every year. She hated the cold so much, but she missed her core group of friends up there. Trabia, unfortunately, was not nearly as big or as significant as Balamb or Galbadia, and thus that Garden only took the SeeD qualification exams every five or six years. She was itching to complete her training, as well as to cultivate her humanities education. Balamb Garden was hosting the world's biggest festival she had ever seen, and she wanted to be a part of it. It was supposed to be a big event. Looking at the two boys and the older girl, she couldn't help but feel a certain kinship between them, a closeness. She reasoned that the war had bonded them together, and she was probably right, but she felt she needed to consummate the bonding by asking them to help her Garden Festival out. She smiled as she thought of that and then lapsed into some good memories about her Trabia friends.

Zell wasn't thinking about anything except a growing stomach ache that had started plaguing him as soon as they entered the campus. He knew what it was, but he felt he needed more spicy hot dogs to clamp it down. Staring off in the distance, he figured that pickle relish would be the best allieviant.

Quistis and Squall were as silent as ever, both of them looking out towards the campus commons. They spotted several instructors and the Headmaster coming towards them, and they got up. Selphie and Zell did as well, and a great relief fell over their visitors.

Xu was the first one to speak. "You're alive, thank God! That was quite an experience, I can imagine for you all."

Squall elected not to speak, for her chirpiness immediately bothered him, and he sat back down on the bench. Selphie and Zell did as well, but Quistis remained standing. She responded, "We made it back. It was more of a harrowing experience, to say the least."

"Things got so jumbled up in the run-up. I am terribly sorry that it didn't go according to plans."

"We lost so many people, not to mention the citizens of Dollet."

Xu nodded, as well as the Headmaster, before speaking again. "The realization that the enemy was after the communications tower was a surprise to us. And, it still is. We haven't been able to discern why they'd want to take control of that." She sighed. "The Dollet Dukedom contains some one hundred and fifty thousand citizens, according to the Duke's census. Since the Galbadian's blew the barrier, the estimates report that three-quarters of that city's population has been killed. The Duke was able to escape, and he collected the remaining citizens into various vilages all along the southeastern area of the continent. We've taken measures to see that our future Garden Festival will support a quick rehabilitation process for that ruined city."

Selphie squealed, "That sounds sweet! I'll definitely work to make it a special occasion."

"That would be greatly appreciated. It is the least we could do to mend the wounds."

Headmaster Cid cleared his throat. "The Galbadian army has agreed to fully withdraw its troops, so long as the Duke keeps the communications tower fully operational."

"Why is President Deling so insisting on having that tower fully repaired and operational?" Quistis asked.

"The country of Galbadia has implemented a steady effort to revitalize radio frequencies. Those types of activities haven't been used in over seventeen years. Dollet had a beacon to the eastern half of the world, and Deling wanted to have it. What message they want to send is unknown to me at this moment."

"Did the Duke comply?"

"What else was there to do? The Galbadians are driving the last brigade out at this moment. They fixed the damaged barrier, and what little remains of the Dollet army-- which is basically just the reserves-- are guarding the tower and not letting anyone go into it except for licensed Galbadian electricians."

Xu sighed again. "At least they're out of there. Now, the war will switch elsewhere."

"SeeD has never been more crucial than ever. I'm pleased to welcome in three new members who are more than qualified enough to settle the score." Cid beamed at Squall, Zell, and Selphie with sincere respect.

Silence prevailed again, but this time around it was a good silence. All of them, including Squall, had smiles on their faces. Unfortunately, it seems good times always had to come to an end. Loud footsteps sounded behind them, and they all turned to see Seifer appearing. A distant look was in his eyes; nobody could tell if he was stoned, hung over, or pissed. Or a combination of the three. He addressed Squall first, an angry voice coming out of him. "Have they told you yet?"

Squall just looked at him.

"We could have been war heroes if it wasn't for that lowly order to withdraw!!"

"They're war heroes enough, Seifer," Quistis said sternly. "They followed your orders to a "T", while you whitewashed the whole process and went off on a tangent. You were the one looking to slaughter, not win a battle with dignity."

"Dignity? Tangent? My, my, dear instructor. Those are mighty cruel words for an aspiring student." Ignoring their shocked looks, he callously shrugged his shoulders. "A mediocre instructor like you would never put herself down in the heart of a conflict and gut it as best as you could. You will never understand what it's like to really feel the rush."

Xu grew angry and pushed Quistis lightly to the side. "Don't get so stuck on yourself, Seifer."

"What's it to you? You weren't there, either."

"That is irrelevant. You, as the priviledged position of being the leader of Squad B, abused your authority and violated the orders given to you. You were specifially told to guard the **Central Square**! Yet, you abandoned the position, forced your Squad members to partake in your indecency, and mass murdered nearly a hundred soldiers out of pure, unadultered lust. Now tell me, for maybe I am mistakened, what kind of SeeD would do something like that?!?"

Seifer glared at her. Her demanding tone of voice infuriated him, and he couldn't stop himself from clenching his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Isn't the Captain's duty to take the best possible action?"

"It is, Seifer. You are not a dumb person, but you are not a qualified person! You will never be a SeeD, for your personality is a joke to behold. You will never escape the label of 'Problem Child'. Never ever have the conceit of calling yourself a Captain, when you know darn well what that position entails of its members." She spat the last sentence out in her disgust and turned away to march over to the central island. Quistis followed her, as well as Selphie and Zell-- they really felt uncomfortable at that point.

With just the three men, Squall looked at Cid who gave him a nod. The Rough Divide wielder gave Seifer an empathetic look and left the two of them to talk a little bit. Seifer had his head down, and a thundercloud of emotions were rumbling in his mind. He had clenched his fist so tightly that his nails dug into his skin, and he could feel flakes of blood oozing out. He jumped when the Headmaster rested his hand on his shoulder. Cid sat him down on the bench and then sat next to him.

"Seifer," he said in a calm voice, "it is true. You will be disciplined for your irresponsible behavior."

"It is the Captain's decision--"

"Never mind about that! I'm not saying you are, and I'm not saying you are not. I personally think you're an adept and highly skilled swordsman. You and Squall are this school's two best fighters, and I'm trying hard not to be biased. But, listen, you _must_ follow orders precisely during combat. That is absolutely imperative, Seifer. One bad mistake could tear down the entire thing." He smiled a warm smile that seemed to bring Seifer back to reality. "I am not entirely without sympathy for you. I actually wish that I was young again. I remember the rush of war back in the Sorceress years, god that brings back so many memories. Look, I don't want you to become a machine, okay?" His attention was distracted by a Guardian coming up to talk to him. "There are so many things wrong with this world." Looking at Seifer, he said, "Please do not become one of them."

Three o clock came, and Squall found himself on the second floor of the central tower. A whole group of kids were waiting including Zell, Selphie, the Squad D member named Dylan, and Rajin and Fujin. The latter two looked unhappy. When Squall looked at Fujin, she pointed to the burly man, and Squall sighed, "What is it?"

He whispered, "Fujin was sayin that it'd be all your fault if Seifer doesn't become a SeeD."

Squall snorted. "That's already taken care of. He's not going to be."

Fujin's one eye widened. "NO."

"Are ya serious?"

Squall looked at him, annoyed, "Yes, it is true. And he did it to himself. Don't be blaming me now, for his shit." He left them and went towards Zell, who was pacing around anxiously. He didn't speak when Squall came near him, for there was nothing to say. Selphie stood nearby, and Dylan seemed preoccupied. All the surrounding children, tweens, and teens were mumbling and talking about the previous day's events. Squall heard some fantastic stories, mixed lies, and heavy propaganda emanating from their words. He wondered how one could be inundated with meretricious bullshit. He didn't seem to realize his own making in that.

A door opened up somewhere on the third floor, heavy patting was heard on the deck above, and the elevator came down. All eyes fell on a large Guardian who came towards them with a thin manilla envelope. He looked at the group and then down at the envelope. "No. 40257, Dincht."

Zell hopped in the air for another backflip somersault, almost knocking into a little kid. He trotted past the Guardian who shook his head before reading again. "No. 56234, Tilmitt."

Selphie raised both fists in a triumphant joy and walked past the Guardian.

"No. 23231, Williams." The kid named Dylan had a look like he just made a bowel movement. He ran clumsily past the Guardian who had to sidestep to get out of the way. "Finally, No. 41269, Leonhart."

Squall knew it already, but he was shocked at the call. It took him a second to register, but before he knew it, it was like he floated past all of them and whisked himself up to the third floor to join the other three. This was the moment. This was what he waited for. Finally... SeeD! He couldn't say anything, couldn't think of anything _to_ say. He was at the very spot that seemed like a science fiction plot for him. All seven years of training now culminated into its final project. He was now an ambassador, a representative of Balamb Garden, a member of an elite mercenary force that most students of the academy never achieved. He was the one that would be a mover and shaker in all events around the globe. He barely realized he had formed part of a line next to Zell, Selphie, and Dylan. He barely even heard the Headmaster speak.

Headmaster Cid stood in front of them with the Leading Guardian who held the chest containing the covenant _B.A._ pins. Those pins represented SeeD and were to be worn on the collar at all times. The letters B and A were inscribed in pure gold, and a star with a ribbon around it sat underneath the letters in pure silver. It was a shiny, wonderful pin that was envied around the globe. Cid looked at his four newest SeeDs, and he smiled the biggest smile they had ever seen.

"Congratulations, cadets. No longer will you be referred in that position ever again. Out of eighteen in the pool, only four of you succeeded in staking out to the end. You have sacrificed your adolescent years to be a part of a much broader structure of the world's life. Now, as a member of SeeD, you will be dispatched all over the world to either join the present number of fifteen hundred Balamb SeeDs or embark on your own ambassadorship assignment. The world is now truly your oyster." Sensing movement to his right, he noticed the Lead Guardian fidget.

The vice commander of Balamb seemed perturbed. "I am sorry to interfere, Headmaster, but the meeting starts in a few minutes. Ahem..." he cleared his throat, addressing the four SeeDs, " SeeD is a valuable asset to Garden. It's reputation is solely dependant on each of you to carry out your task. Handle your mission with care, at all times." Looking back at Cid, the enormous yellow hat hid the smirk in his eyes. "Is that what you wanted to say, sir?"

Headmaster Cid shot him a cold look, rubbed it off, and took the chest. Opening it with a slow, honorable caution he carefully took out the four pins. They were so unique that they even had their names inscribed in gold on the silver star. Walking towards them, he stopped at Selphie first and carefully pinned it on her collar. Smiling warmly, he said, "Welcome to the force, Miss Selphie Tilmitt. I am looking forward to the Garden Festival."

"Thank you, sir!" she exclaimed, saluting crisply.

Returning it, Cid went to the next in line and pinned Dylan's collar. "Welcome to the force, Mr. Dylan Williams. Do your best, even if you do not stand out."

"Thank you, sir!" he replied sheepishly, saluting crisply.

Returning it, Cid went to the next in line and smiled at Zell's fidgeting. The tattooed boy was always too hyper all the time. Pinning his collar, Cid calmed him down. "Welcome to the force, Mr. Zell Dincht. Try to control your emotions a little."

"Thank you, sir, I'm working on it every day!"

Cid shook his head, as he returned the salute. He advanced towards Squall and let out an admiring look. He pinned Squall's collar slowly, for this was a special occasion. "Finally... a gunblade specialist. We have not had one of these in a long, long time. Welcome to the force, Mr. Squall Leonhart."

"Thank you, sir," he replied calmly, saluting an airtight salute that wowed both Cid and the Leading Guardian. Cid took an extra time returning it, and then walked back in front of them. He looked at each one of them with pride and then stood impeccably erect. "This ends the SeeD inauguration. Dismissed!"

All four about-faced and left the building, shiny pins glistening in the hall lights. Down on the second floor, more people had gathered forming a large amorphous congregation. What surprised the four SeeDs was the presence of the lone cadet who survived the battle but failed the test. Seifer had cleaned his clothes, and he stood an impeccably clean stance. There wasn't a glare in his eyes nor a twitch of his jaw. He just stared at them, letting an uneasy silence settle on the congregation. Suddenly, he relaxed and clapped his hands, and a genuine smile crept on his face. Raijin and Fujin clapped along with him, and then the whole congregation breathed a sigh of relief and cheered for the new elite who had passed their training.

* * *

Nighttime settled peacefully, and not a cloud stopped the full Moon from rising. He was surprised to find Selphie waiting by his dorm room. He had to admit that she looked nice in her SeeD dress uniform. The slick form-fitting gray blouse and skirt was girded with gold trimming and a dark red tie. Her SeeD pin glistened in the dorm hall light. Her hair was done up in a dinner party fashion, for she was dressed for the occasion. There was a major SeeD party planned in the Garden's Commons Hall, anybody who was anybody was there to live the high life and forget about the militant horrors transpiring on other continents. She beamed a big smile. "I figured this was you's and Zell's room. He's already gone."

Squall knew the party was about to begin, but all he wanted to do was sleep. The whole day, not to mention the previous, still drained on him. Either that or he was just irritated of social gatherings. "It's been a long day, Seph."

"Uh-huh, change into your uniform. There's drinks being served there." She went ahead and opened his door and walked in, apparantly sealing the deal. Squall was going and there wasn't a damn thing he was going to do about it. He sighed and followed her. While she grabbed into the cookie jar, he closed his bedroom door and grabbed his suit. His uniform looked just as good and form-fitting. A slick gray overcoat with blue shoulder pads and a red stripe on both sleeves. Slick gray pants and charcoal leather shoes. His SeeD pin glistened as well, and he was proud to wear it. He was clean and fresh and ready to get the night over with. Walking out, Selphie dropped her cookie. "Looking good, sailor."

He cringed, which caused her to chuckle. "Let's hit the party, Squall!"

And hit it they did. It was under full swing when they arrived. Hundreds of people gathered in the great hall, all decked out in beautiful garments. The men, SeeD or not, looked handsome and dignified gentlemen. The women, SeeDs or not, were dressed in beautiful gowns and dresses. It was like the old garb of partygoers several centuries before-- a tradition that never seemed to die away. A great chandelier made of pure crystal from the southern continent lit up the whole room and sparkled the attendees in a brighter radiance. Selphie was correct about the drinks, and there were lots of them. As they entered the hall, she departed immediately and went to a couple of friends she had instantly made as soon as she came to Balamb. Squall, meanwhile, looked around him and sighed. The hair on the back of his neck bristled, and he was getting a little tense. He deemed a drink would be necessary to calm him down, so he attempted to make his way over there.

A hip dance was playing from the band, and most of the attendees were shaking their hips under the chandelier, rubbing against each other and laughing in their pleasure. He brushed by many people dancing, cavorting, and consuming before he spotted Zell scarfing more hot dogs. This time, he looked up, and he smiled and actually dropped a dog to say hi. He stood up, crumbs falling on his impeccable SeeD outfit. Smacking his right hand on his pants and blowing on it after, he extended it out to Squall. "Put it there, man."

Squall gave him a squeamish look. "Zell, man, why do you do that?"

"It's my trademark!"

"And so is your love of hot dogs. Look, I'm just here to get a drink."

Zell dropped his hand and sighed sadly. "Well, at least you're here. Even when you're a SeeD, you're still the same old Squall."

Squall nodded. "I try to keep it that way." He left Zell at the table and attempted again to walk to the drink table. He made it and looked at the selection. Dry gin, bourbon, vodka, a bunch of hard stuff. He guessed he needed something hard. The bartender saw him looking at a thin bottle of vodka, and he poured it on the house for a fresh new SeeD. Squall did a little thank you and turned around. The hip song was ending, and the dancers were cheering and clapping. Squall took a big swig and relished the taste. It was just what he needed-- a quick jolt to the stomach, and a quick pain reliever to the brain. He didn't know how much longer he could stand to be here in this overcrowded shithole, and he had about enough. He took another swig and looked up at the ceiling. The chandelier hung in the only closed space of the glass ceiling. The night sky shone above, and the Moon was very bright. Now he didn't want to leave, he loved looking at that Moon all the time. He set the glass on the table and admired it.

A shooting star slashed through the sky underneath the Moon.

He blinked. Something nagged at him to look away and in front of him, and when he did his mind stopped thinking.

A beautiful brunette with pinkish white skin dressed in a whitish-tan dress and porcelain heels was looking up at the sky as well, until something nagged at the back of her mind to look in his direction. When she saw him, she pointed up to the sky as if to say _Did you see that?_ Without thinking, he nodded affirmatively, and she smiled really big. She walked towards him, and her grace was elegant. She wore a small pendant on a silver chain that bounced tantalizingly on her chest. She seemed to smile bigger as she drew nearer. He was aware of a sweet-smelling perfume emanating from her. She stopped about a foot in front of him and looked him up and down. He couldn't help but do the same, but he also couldn't get out of there either. It looked like his plans were being dashed.

She brought a finger to her cheek and sized him again, while saying, "Why, you're the best-looking guy here." Her voice was as sweet as honey, and he didn't know how to respond. He never felt more uneasy in all his life.

She didn't seem to sense his plight for she stuck out her elegant hand. "Dance with me?"

_Dancing? What the hell._ Dancing was purely out of the question. He took another swig from his glass. The drink now seemed a little tainted. Or maybe that was his personal bubble space being invaded and causing him to get unsure of himself. What was he to do now?

The pretty girl, though, didn't seem to be enthusiastic about leaving anytime soon. On the contrary, she smiled even bigger and put her hands on her shapely hips. "Let me guess, you only dance with someone you like."

_No, dancing is out of the question right now!_

She gave a little laugh and then cupped his chin in her hand. Her touch was soft and soothing. His thoughts seemed to diminish, and he couldn't help but notice her eyes. Greenish-brown, sometimes hazel. They seemed to change under the light. That was probably the trick, because it made him easy for her to trap. "You-are-going-to-like-me," she teased, twirling her hand lightly in front of his face as if she were a magician. Some little spell at least partially worked.

He worked up the courage to say something. "I... can't dance."

She laughed some more, took his glass from him, and hauled him out to the dance floor. "You'll be fine. I can't be out there alone, can I?"

His mouth went dry, and he was at a loss for words. She gracefully led him out to the center of the hall in front of everybody. He was keenly aware of the stares, gawking looks, and envious glances. His heart seemed to thud into his stomach, and his mind was running circles over and over again. The conductor of the band seemed to recognize a "newbie" was on the dance floor and decided to have his group do a waltz piece. It was a very wonderful piece of music, and a couple people cheered and started doing waltz movements. Everybody kept an eye on Squall the whole time and couldn't help but snicker when the girl stopped in the center and he bumped into her. This girl was determined, though, and she put his clumsy hands over hers and got him to do a little herky-jerky zombie movements with his feet. He didn't crush hers, but he tripped over his. Embarassment was kicking in, but she stayed the course with an ever bigger smile and brought his hands back up again.

All across the hall, the attendees who were not dancing came to watch the spectacle, and an order of drinks went around. Headmaster Cid, himself, came to order a roll call. Everybody looked at Squall and did a point-by-point playout of the superb SeeD fighter clumsily misstepping to the count and bashing himself into the pretty girl in the white dress. Meanwhile, Squall attempted to leave after bashing into her, but she reached over and pulled him back in. He could feel the stares, but he really did know how to dance. Slowly, the waltz music was creeping into his system. So was the booze. He managed to get his feet working, but when he twirled her to the high points of the song he missed his mark and both of them crashed into another dancing couple. The male SeeD was about to give Squall a nasty rant, but the white-clad girl stuck her tongue at him and pulled Squall away.

He thought he was doing better, until he ran into that guy. Squall had enough of the charades, but when he turned to his mysterious partner, his thoughts washed away. Her changing eyes sparkled from the great chandelier, and her lips were perfect. With a little wink she said, "I know you know how to dance." His uneasiness subsided, and he formed a thin smile. Cupping her smooth hand gently and cupping her back with the other hand, he gracefully twirled her to the beats of the song and moved his feet in the right directions. The crowd let out a disappointed gasp, and money exchanged hands to the successful bidders. Unaware and uncaring of the matters, Squall Leonhart actually had a bit of fun. He spun her a final time and drew her close at the end of the song. On cue, the lights dimmed and a great fanfare of fireworks lit up the night sky.

While he was distracted by them, she saw movement behind them and a couple of her friends motioning her to come over. She drew his attention and gave him one last long smile, squeezed his hand, and walked over to her calling friends. He watched the sway of her hips as she walked, and then he suddenly grew depressed. _What the hell was that for?_ He wasn't too mad, though. In the distance where she was walking to, he thought he saw Seifer giving him a weird look.

He left the party and walked silently back to his dorm. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to feel. He didn't even know who he was. How could he do something like that? He had never done that before. He stopped walking and leaned against a lightpost and looked up at the sky. "All because of that shooting star. Damn it."

He heard footsteps, and when he turned he saw Quistis with her hands behind her back. She was dressed in her red jumpsuit and boots, with the whip hanging on its holster. Her look was peculiar. "I must say, you are the best student I have ever had. I never taught you dancing, but that was absolutely amazing."

Squall couldn't help but smile, so he had to turn away. Over time, though, it appeared as if she wanted a response, and he grew irritated by that. "You want something?"

She leaned on the other side of the lightpost and looked shocked. "You'll dance with someone you don't even know, but you can't stand being around me?"

He angrily sighed. "Whatever, look, it's not that I can't stand you. It's that you're an instructor, and I'm a student. By law, things shouldn't be happening between us."

"What law?"

"Something in the Code of Conduct."

"That you just made up?"

"I never make things up. Suffice it to say, whenever you don't speak after declaring something, it always gets a little awkward."

She giggled. "Oh, I completely forgot. Guess we'll have to abide by the rule of law now, huh?"

He looked away, feeling more uncomfortable again.

She leaned off the post and walked directly in front of him with her hands on her hips. "I've come to give you an order. My...." Her voice trailed off and her eyes looked distant. "My last one."

"Your last one?"

"Get changed, and meet me at the training center. We're to go to the 'Secret Area'."

"The place where couples go to make out?"

"And... talk about things."

He scoffed. "What, are we going to tell everybody there they're violating curfew?"

She giggled some more. "Just meet me there A.S.A.P."

He nodded. This was certainly vague. He quickly changed back at the dorm and went to the training center. The night sky was getting darker, as the Moon was setting. The crickets were out and annoying to listen to. He found her at the training center entrance, and she told him the "Secret Area" was in the back. The dinosaur was asleep in his rotten den, and most of the plant creatures were hibernating somewhere in the wilderness. They kept to the cleared-out path and found a bridge over a tiny stream. They crossed it, pulled back the shades, and found the spot.

It was a pretty and pristine location, and several couples were attempting to get to second base. The Moon was still alive and well out in the open, and two of the island's forests were visible from where they stood. She breathed a sigh of relief and walked towards the railing. He was itching to leave and did a little sigh himself, although it wasn't pleasant. She didn't notice, for she had suddenly grown very sad.

"Oh... I haven't been here for a while." Her voice was lispy, and she laid her head on the cool railing and closed her eyes.

Squall didn't think this was going to be a short visit, so he went to the railing by her side and looked out across the Alcauld plains. They spent about ten minutes looking out at the view in silence. It really was magnificent. Here and there a few night creatures roamed the plains, but overall the land was quiet and shimmering from the moonlight. She had to break the silence, though.

"What time is it?"

He took a little bit. The Moon was difficult to tell at this stage. "I say... about two in the morning."

That seemed to depress her more. She slumped back down and another ten minutes went by. He could only stand the scene for too long. Her movement forced him to stay. "I, Quistis Trepe, am no longer an instructor... as of now. They fired me after the Exam yesterday. I am now just a SeeD ambassador like you. Who knows maybe we'll end up working together." She turned to see if he liked that idea, but his face was still turned out towards the plains. She wondered if he had heard her.

When he spoke, it was gruff. "Really?"

"Is that all you're going to say?"

"Well, they got together, the higher-ups, and they gave their decision. If that's how it was decided, you have to abide by it."

She felt even more depressed. Her arms quivered, even though the air temperature was warm. "They told me that I failed as an instructor. They said I... they... they said I lacked leadership skills. Pah! I got here when I was ten years old. I became a SeeD at fifteen, the youngest they ever had. I got my instructorship license at seventeen. It's... wow... it's only been a year since I had it. I wonder where I went wrong. Maybe it was ju--- hey!!" She had turned and saw him looking the other way, hand on his hip, and sighing to himself. "You--You're not even listening to me!"

He gave a very disgruntled sigh. "Are you done, yet?" He put his back against the railing and did not look at her. "I don't want to talk about depressing crap like that."

Her whole body seemed to sag. "I'm not wanting you to say anything, I just would like you to listen."

He gritted his teeth. "I'm not here to solve anybody's personal problems." When she tried to touch his arm, he shrugged her off and started walking. "Go talk to a wall."

"Squall!!"

He stopped briefly.

"Aren't there times when you want to share your feelings with someone?"

He didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was cold. "Everyone has to take care of themselves. I'm not here to carry anyone's burden." He resumed walking and left the outdoor balcony.

Her eyes were aching, but she held back the tears. Her heart sped momentarily, and her mind raced miles. She didn't realize she was speaking out loud to herself. "No leadership qualities. Failed instructor. Perhaps... they were right... all along."

She caught up to him at the front, but before they could disembark, a loud noise siezed their attention. They turned and saw a young woman being attacked by a mutated armadillo. The creature had a thick spiked shell and it stood seven feet tall. However, Squall was more struck by the girl: it was the girl from the infirmary! She was wearing the same white gown with the green shawl, and her face was panicked. She saw the two approach and instantly recognized them. "Squall!! Quisty!!" The creature saw her yell to them, and it chose to attack them instead.

Letting out a nasty cloud of spittle, it charged Squall brandishing its spiked shell as a battering rod. The newly-minted SeeD was smarter, and he unsheathed his gunblade, sidestepped, and swung in a low arc. The blade sliced a thin incision on the armadillo's exposed yellow-striped belly, and the creature stumbled. Quistis unsheathed her bladed whip and dug the sharp tip into the creature's skull. Jerking it back, she almost snapped its neck completely off; but she chose to fire a burn spell, and the armadillo's soft flesh burned extra crispy.

The creature's dying gasp alerted its partner, and the foul seven-footer barreled out of the underbrush and knocked Quistis over with its skull. Adjusting its armored shell around so it could drive a spike through her, it didn't see Squall load a round of ammunition in his blade. The buckshot blast drove its body into a chainlink fence, and Quistis consumed it with another round of fire spells. The armadillos were no match for two stalwart SeeDs.

The mysterious girl slumped to the grass, and before Squall could talk to her, two men jumped down in white-clad suits. Huge green berets were on their head, and their faces were strained. They helped the girl up and sternly scolded, "It's not safe here, please let's go."

She nodded, and they took her out of the center not saying a word to Squall or Quistis. He was foiled yet again. Quistis crossed her arms and did not speak for a long time. When she finally did, her voice was hoarse. "Squall... it's not like everybody can get by on their own, you know?" She left before he could reply in the negative. He watched her go and cursed to himself. There was too much shit going on these days. He walked slowly back to his dorm once more, and since it was half past three according to the clock he debated on whether to fall asleep or not. He decided to sleep.

Only to wake up at six to a loud knocking.

"Squall! It's Selphie!"

"Dammit, what'd you want?"

"Zell's got some good news for ya!"

When he opened the door, the tattooed boy was grinning widely. "We've got new rooms, buddy. Separate ones, too. And lucky you! You're new room is right across from this one! We'll help you pack."

"I've only had three hours of sleep, guys."

"Yeah, but a new cadet is coming in here. Needs the room."

Squall angrily closed the door and got changed. They ended up doing most of the unpacking and packing. He went next door, found the place to be more his liking, and fell instantly to sleep on the bed.


	6. Soldiers and Owls

**Author's Note:** The longest chapter yet. Hope everyone in the United States had a great Fourth of July weekend and done something fun. This new chapter highlights some interesting AU points that readers may want to know about. Plus, the story now gets a little juicier and stranger-- which is always a good thing! Enjoy the read and review as you please.

~~~ACJ

_Newly minted SeeD._

_Journeys drenched in the unknown,_

_More strange days to come_

A full week passed before his alottment check ran through his Garden account. As a full-fledged SeeD Squall Leonhart, Zell Dincht, and Selphie Tilmitt acquired a slick colorless I.D. card with a bar code on the back that enabled them to open a SeeD account within the school. Their successful completion of the Exams constituted them to the highest possible rank they could get at their "newbie" stage-- a level 10 (out of 31, the last one being "A") which netted all three of them eight thousand gil each. They would receive these amounts of money every week for the rest of their life in order to benefit both themselves and the rest of the world. Squall's total personal income now amounted to fifteen thousand gil; as he sat in his dorm room eating a bowl of soup, he looked at the money card and realized the time had come to upgrade. Future missions would require him to do that anyway to his weapons, so he figured he'd get started early.

He also figured he should study up on the more recent events emanating out of the western continent. The earlier news that Galbadia was using Dollet as a telecommunications base at the expense of its citizens further proved the exacerbating rifts bludgeoning the so-called truce between the continents of Deling and Galbadia. He had on the telescreen, and Deling City news reports-- whether totally biased or not-- were flashing scenes of President Vinzer Deling of Galbadia and General Carroway of Deling meeting together at Galbadia Garden ratcheting up convoluted and flimsy independence issues. Economics were a much bigger driving force, though, and it seemed to be taking its toll on some of the northern country's assets-- which happened to be the unfortunate Dollet Dukedom. Vinzer Deling was supposed to be rallying in Timber later that evening for a new ulterior strategy to deal with the growing tensions in Deling City. Or at least the telescreen talking head said so.

Squall threw his remote control at the screen, breaking the device. Political bullshit was just that: pure bullshit. It infuriated him that all the elitest chess-playing was not doing one justifiable good for the working-class people of the world. It also infuriated him that so much corruption could exist, and the poor people of both of those countries could be absolutely complacent and pliable with it. From what he could gather from the news reports, Galbadia was run under the thumb of a presupposed constitutional republic where capitalism flourished under the mighty gil and trumped any representational jurisdiction, and Deling was run under the thumb of a military dictatorship. Pick your poison. He figured the silver lining was with SeeD, but in all honesty, he'd rather just get paid and let the convoluted problems clash against each other. He didn't think, though, in the long run that it'd be quite that easy.

Halfway through the soup, he pushed it away. His thoughts were all the over place. Again. He was always an introverted, questioning (silently), and brooding person, but matters of late had practically driven him insane. At the crux of it all were two women he did not even know and one woman that he did know but who bothered the complete and holy hell out of him. Quistis was easy to ignore, but that sappy display she'd put on last week really pissed him off. How could she be so sentimental at the drop of a hat? The other two, the two brunettes, were a definite kick in the teeth. One of them had called out his name _twice_! He slammed a fist on the table, causing everything to jump a little. He hated not knowing where he was going; he hated the unknown. Who the hell was this girl? And the other one-- who the hell was she! Coming up and asking for a dance, of all the nerve!

Yet, it _was _kind of fun.

He had the dumbest expression on his face when Zell burst through the door with an even dumber expression on _his_ face. Completely ignoring Squall, he blabbered, " This is it! This is it!"

Squall looked at him for a little while rushing around in _his_ dorm room, acting like he owned the place. Zell opened cupboards, folded up chairs, sat on the couch, got off the couch, and basically did weird and random movements without any clear explanation as to why he was doing it. Finally, Squall managed a short chuckle, and Zell stopped. Grinning stupidly, he pointed at him and said, "Finally made you laugh, like a normal human being."

His short chuckle gave way to more brooding again. "The hell you want?"

"I'm telling you, this is it!"

"Okay. After the third time, what _is_ it?"

"We're going on our first mission! You, me, and Selphie."

Squall sat back and relaxed. "Good."

Zell cocked his head. "Thought you'd be more excited than that."

"I don't act like a freak when these moments come." He got up and went to fetch his leather jacket, since he was only in his undershirt and pants. "Where are we going?"

"Dunno. Cid's down at the gates."

Squall fitted the jacket firmly on himself and took the necklace holding the griffin emblem. The silvery emblem could be tricked into a ring, and he tricked it and placed it on his finger. The silver glinted in the light, and the griffin's maw seemed ready to take anything out. He smirked in the mirror and grabbed his blade, ready and willing to upgrade the weapon to the maximum he could afford. Before leaving, he opened his desk and found the three GF gems laying in there: Quetzacotyl, Shiva, and Ifrit their essence sparkling radiantly within. "Which one d'ya want?"

"The brightest one."

Squall flinched. "Ifrit? He doesn't respect you, you chose Shiva to test against."

"Yeah, but I used Quetzacotyl in the Final Exam, remember, so there's just a big love-hate relationship going on. 'Sides, Shiva's mighty pretty once you summon her."

"Yeah, I bet you'd think that."

Zell gave a little lewd laugh and took Ifrit's essence as well as Shiva's. "I'm sure they'll be fine together."

Squall managed to smile a little. "Gods are easy to trick once you know their informalities. Is Selphie around?"

"Here I am!" The bubbly voice of the cute, petite brunette bounced into his room and awaited a presupposed fanfare. She was dressed up in a bright yellow spaghetti-strap skirt with brown knee-high boots. Her nunchaku hung on a garter belt around her waist. "Like the look?"

They didn't give an immediate response, and she was satisfied. They were SeeDs now and entitled to wear whatever they wanted-- as long as they wore something. Zell was sporting his favorite color of blue with a navy blue shirt under a red vest as well as huge blue shorts way too big for his ass topped off with some oversized yellow shoes. Combined with the tattoo, he looked like an absolute fucking dork, and that was all part of the charm.

They walked down to the front gates and met Headmaster Cid and the Chief Guardian, waiting paitently for their arrival. The elderly man seemed at ease with himself enough. Salutes were given around when they were close enough, and he put his hands behind his back. "Your first task begins today, my new SeeDs. How are you feeling?"

"Ready to shine, sir," Zell piped cheerily. Squall feigned a small cheeriness.

"Good," Cid responded, "good, good, good. The task is a small one for starters. Enough to get your teeth into."

"Awww..." Selphie moaned, "why not give us a hard one. We survived a war pretty much."

"The difficulty is what you make it, my dear. But this, in and of itself, is a significant but no-big-deal assignment. You are to go Timber."

_Timber_, Squall thought, _of all the places._

"The area is known for political strife, as you all are no doubt aware of. There are several resistance movements conspiring around that wilderness. You are to act as support for one of them."

"And?" Squall asked.

"That is it. No more, no less."

_Hmmm...._

Cid pulled a note out of his vest pocket. "A member of this faction will contact you at the Timber tram station. He is most likely a lively, talkative fellow-- they all seem to be. But, he'll ask you one question: The forests of Timber sure have changed."

The Chief Guardian cleared his throat. "It is very imperative that you answer correctly."

"Right," Cid explained, "it'll let them know that you're not an enemy. You must respond that 'The Owls are still around.' Things can carry on from there."

The vagueness of this assignment seemed to worry Zell a bit. "You sure only us three are going?"

The Chief Guardian shook his head, causing the enormous yellow hat to bobble up and down. "We have agreed to do this contract for very little money." A bit of a scoff went through his tone. "After our horrible debacle with Dollet, we were at odds to accept so little a revene-raiser that..."

"Let's... not get into that sidenote," Cid interrupted. He looked at Squall and resumed smiling. "You are the leader, Squall. Use your best judgment on the situation."

_Me, the leader? What gives?_

Cid continued, "Zell and Selphie, your jobs are to support him at all costs. Give your all to carry out the faction's plans, whatever they might be."

All three saluted him and prepared to walk off, but the old man wasn't quite finished yet. "Oh, Squall! Someone gave this to me a while back. You'll probably find this to be the most peculiar thing."

Squall turned to see the Headmaster holding a small gray lamp. "What is that?"

"This was an old Esthar artifact from almost two decades ago, before they vanished from the face of the earth. Be careful with it, though. The previous owner believed there was a curse on this thing. They also said that whoever had the superior power to utilize this would find this to be of great benefit."

Squall disregarded superstitions, but the mention of Esthar seemed to force his hand to come out and take it. The small gray lamp seemed to quiver in his grasp, as if something inside was trying desperately to get out. Holding the lamp by the handle, he gave an astonished look for as the Sun's ray struck the lamp he could see a tiny dark figure bouncing around inside it-- the rays seemed to go right through the lamp, illuminating its insides. He saw Cid smiling sheepishly, and then both he and the Guardian turned and walked back to their offices. Squall looked back at Zell and Selphie, and all three exited the campus and went far off down the plains out of sight of any snooping kids. When they were sure they were alone, Squall looked at them first before opening the plug.

Nothing.

He craned his eye all around the hole and found nothing. He turned it upside down and found nothing. Something was happening to the sky, though. Dark clouds formed above them and small rumbles of thunder sounded in the distance. A lightning bolt hit a tree near the closest forest, and a faint screeching sound sounded within the lamp. Squall's hand holding the lamp spasmed, and a dark goo shot out of the hole and into the clouds. A louder screech sounded, and a massive winged demon appeared. Black and red like a certain spider, the demon had cold-looking eyes and a wingspan three times bigger than its sculpted body. It looked old and ancient and sagelike, possibly possessing far greater strength than any of them could attest to. Its gaze fell on all three of them, and when it spoke it had a deep masculine voice. "You must be the forseen ones I heard on my earlier trips. Well, then, what irks you to awaken me from my sleep?"

Squall looked at Zell who looked at Selphie who looked at Squall. Neither of them hadn't a damn clue what to do now. What was this thing?

It seemed to read their thoughts. "I am the guardian force, Diablos. I am an undertaker to the dismal part of the afterlife, although that is somewhat of a subjective statement." It regarded their surprised and uneasy looks with a keen interest. "I hope you three have quick physical reflexes that your mental ones are lacking in." With quick veracity, it lunged towards Squall, pronged his body with its horns, and flung Squall in the air and onto his back. The winged demon doubled backwards and waved its gangly hands in a circle. Two huge dollops of dark magic enveloped Zell and Selphie and seemed to drain significant portions of their health clear out of their bodies without creating any visible wounds.

"Hell is a mysterious place," Diablos laughed as it flew into the air, its massive wings barely making movement, "one minute you feel like you're in massive pain. The next, total obliviousness." It snapped its fingers, and all three of them were flung backwards on their ass, their bodies scraped and cut and torn against the hard dirt of the plains. Diablos made another lunge at Squall, but the gunblader was able to unsheath his weapon from his painful position. He slashed a huge gash in the winged demon's chest. Dust escaped the wound instead of blood, but the undertaker of Hell was visibly hurt and it reeled to one side and eyed the SeeD warily. Squall followed up, shaking off the sore pains, and cut four more deep dusty gashes in the creature's chisled abdominal plate before the demon whirled around in defense and slashed a great open gash into Squall's back. The tips of its wings, they now saw, was clipped in a deadly-looking spike that was now coated in Squall's blood. The poor gunblader fell to the ground and tried vainly to stop the bleeding. Diablos laughed even as it sputtered on its own wounds.

Selphie got up, unhinged her weapon, and spun the nunchaku in a deadly circle around her. The two blunt poles were held together by a snappy, silver ball-linked chain that she was able to manipulate at will. The two blunts struck dead on an open gash and ripped the tear some more, sending more of the god's dusty blood spewing out in the air. Its airborne stance dissipated, and it crashed onto the ground seemingly breaking a leg in the process. It ignored the crippled leg in order to duck another thrust of Selphie's nunchaku. The thrust missed, but the second one hit the back of the demon's skull knocking more blood out the back and out of it's beady eyes. The creature of Hell snarled and sent another orb of dark magic around her body, only this time it teleported her up and over and rolled her several times down a hill. She collapsed at the bottom and writhed in her agony.

Zell was the only one thinking of fighting a GF with another GF. He chose Ifrit to take the stand, and the fire prince actually acquiesced his offer and sent a tremor running through the earth. Diablos heard the far-off roar and sighed angrily to himself. He hated that fiery bastard. The fire demon blasted a big hole through the earth and lunged out as if to take on the whole world by itself. He landed gracefully for his size on the earth and regarded the wounded death god with a condescending look. Fire spewed out of its nostrils. The winged demon Diablos shrugged off its wounds as best it could and lunged towards Ifrit with its horned head angled to rip a nice gash in Ifrit's stomach. The fire prince stopped it, though, and drove it back down to the ground. Ifrit conjured a nasty, pus-filled fiery glob in its hand and splattered Diablo's face and neck with hot molten lava. The creature from Hell's skin peeled off its bones, and its wings cleaved in two from the nine-foot tall Ifrit's weight. The fire prince saw that its attack had done a great deal of damage, and it felt like that was good enough, disappearing as soon as it appeared much to Zell's disappointment.

Squall had managed to plug as much as the gash as he could with a bit of rubbing alcohol, crappy gauze, and a couple of acidic-tasting Potions. He saw the horribly deformed Diablos wretching on the ground, and he grabbed the Rough Divide, hobbled over to the god, and impaled it straight through its heart. The god's body contorted and molded against the blade, melting all the way down to his hand. It burned, and he wrenched it immediately away. To his horror, the Rough Divide incinerated against the dying creature's goo.

"What the fuck!!" Squall yelled in shock.

"Wow, you lost your weapon!" Zell snickered.

Selphie stumbled up the hill and snickered as well at Squall's loss. The dark clouds had now departed, and all three were deftly surprised at what they had just accomplished. Then the roar came back, and the goo reformed. Diablos emerged as its former self, a more pessimistic tone enveloping it. "Damn. Too much sleep has made me too weak."

"Can you give me my sword back?"

The creature made a pitiful chortle. "Yeah, let me pull that out of my ass, mortal."

Squall clenched his fist. "Then, I've got a better idea for you."

Diablos angrily sighed. "Yes, yes. I agree to assist you whenver you need it. Just don't put me next to that fire god, please."

"Oh, that's exactly where you're going, pal."

"Figures." The winged demon flew back into the lamp, and the small gray prison morphed into a shiny gray jewel that Zell instantly pocketed and put right next to Ifrit's gem. In the Sun's light, they could see two spirits battling against each other already.

Zell looked at Squall and snickered some more. The latter flicked him off, and all three started to laugh anyway as they walked towards Balamb Port.

***********************************************************************************

The Sun was bright and shiny at high noon, and the tram wasn't leaving for another hour. They reached the port town with injuries still visible from their battle with the underworld Guardian Force, so they decided to heal themselves with some of the gods' essence. All of the gods carried within their veins healing liquid that would slowly cure their favorite mortal's ailments and status afflictions (besides actual death, of course). Unfortunately, all of the gods were very picky about their choosing, and they sometimes would not cure or cure fully a mortal who allocated a gem of another diety-- which didn't bode well for the poor little mortal. Why the jealousy was there could not be answered unless the dieties took the time to answer it-- which they never did. In this particular scenario, there seemed to be an ongoing feud between Shiva and Ifrit whom had sided with Squall and Zell respectively. Quetzacotyl, the thunder and sky god, wasn't particularly keen on the earthly matters of mortals, but it chose Selphie to side with seemingly to offset the other two's paranoid delusions. Diablos, meanwhile, despised the three mortals because they defeated it, and the god from Hell wasn't about to step in and help them out at this point.

So, once they were fully healed from the gods' lifeblood they found a seaside table at a shrimp market and sat to wait for the time to pass. The smell of the shrimp wasn't doing it for Zell, and he had to get up and walk down the dock to pass the time. Selphie saw a shopping magazine that seemed to pique her interest, and Squall was just about as irate as ever. His sword was gone.

He scoured the town, found the Junk Shoppe, and walked towards it. He was on a new mission to reclaim his lost pride, even though he meant to buy a new blade in the first place. He was actually a little excited, because he knew what he was getting into.

The Junk Shoppe was a quaint but claustrophobic hovel with one lone fan creaking up in the ceiling. The musty air immediately dampened him as he stood in the open door, and he thought twice about leaving without a weapon. The propietor of the shoppe seemed overjoyed to actually pass the time with a prospective client, and the sweaty man hauled him inside and showed Squall his trinkets. Rusty farm equipment, crude hacksaws, old fighting gloves from a war fought in Centra. Squall raised his eyebrows at the immense junk scattered around the place. His eye, though, caught the weapons catalogue on the cashier desk, and he flipped through it bypassing a cheap antique statue the propeitor was showcasing in his hands.

He found the picture of the Shear Trigger. "I desperately need this."

The sweaty propeitor's galoshes made squishy sounds as he clumsily walked his way over to the desk. Looking at it over the rims of his large reading glasses, he made an appreciative hum in his throat. "Are you a gunblade specialist?"

"Trained on it for years, sir."

"Wow. I haven't seen a person like that in decades. I was thinking of cancelling that line of market from this location."

"Oh, that would not be very helpful at this point, sir. Not at all."

"Are you SeeD?"

"Just a week old."

The seller sat on his creaky stool and smiled really big. "Well, this calls for an exception." He cracked his knuckles, blew on them, and then opened a chest behind him. A long and narrow white metal blade lay inside, the sole object. He carefully placed the shiny metal onto a large cutting board on the table behind the cashier's desk. The white blade looked extremely sharp but very heavy; the blade looked almost like an adamantine metal-- the second strongest metal on the earth. The propietor opened a second chest and pulled out the gun assembly, and Squall was astonished. It was different from the picture, being smaller and more compact. "The assembly fires a short magnum shell straight into your opponent. There's an upside and a downside. First, the upside is that the damage done to your opponent is massive and most always fatal. The downside is that each consecutive trigger pull will warp this blade little by little that the gunblade as a sword attack will become too weak and useless over time. By that time, you should have enough funds to upgrade to the next model."

Squall silently cursed. Gunblades were never easy to keep properly maintenanced. Fascination aroused him again, as he saw the sweaty propietor fashion at least fifty screws all over the assembly-- the purpose for that was to make sure the blade didn't fall apart at the trigger of the magnum shot. He then fashioned a short steel pipe on the grooves of the assembly and then grafted the blade together with a heated clip. With the sparks still flying, the propietor added the finishing touch: a secretion of Mesmerize juice. The blood of the eastern continent unicorn had a warping effect on gunblades so the weapon could survive a few trigger pulls of ultra explosive rounds. The blade changed to a silver color, and the weapon was done. "Viola! The Shear Trigger, sir."

Squall gently grasped the brown, grooved hilt and twirled it gracefully in his hand. The silver blade was indeed heavy, but he knew the tricks. It made a fine cutting sound in the air, and he only imagined what the explosive power would do once he pulled the trigger. He suddenly noticed the hilt had a jewel in it. "What does this do?"

The propietor beamed. "Fatal Circle."

"Fatal what?"

"A powerful attack move. Experiment with the blade, and you'll find out what I'm talking about."

Squall looked at his weapon even more astonished. "Fatal Circle."

The propietor clinked some buttons on the register. "That'll be four thousand gil please."

Squall gulped. More expensive than he thought. He swiped his card and pictured his account automatically dripping down. The sweaty propietor handed him a free scabbard that was silver checkerboarded, and he exited the shoppe with the Shear Trigger bouncing against his pant leg and a big smile plastered on his face.

He found Zell eating another hot dog and Selphie practically ready to beat him over the head about it. The port tower clock said fifteen to one, and he motioned them to hurry. The tattooed boy scarfed a huge portion down and fought the pain in his stomach, as they headed to the tram station. If Squall gulped at the high pricetag on his blade, he balked at the one thousand gil ticket per person for the tram. The ticketmaster dutifully explained that the crisis on the western continent had put a massive inflation on most imports, exports, and public services. They each shrugged off the lousy excuse for price gouging and paid a thousand gil each and found their train cart.

The tram routes of the world, excluding the unknown means of the eastern continent, ran underwater between the continents. Decades ago, engineers had been able to manifest huge sums of money and materials to make the splendid five route systems. Transports of people and cargo were made daily and proved very profitable for tax revenues for the many governments in the world. Until recently, the prices for shipping were reasonable and affordable. It was the poor and working class people's mode of travel, and it was a snub to the elitest of the world.

As the train roared underground, and the view of the underwater sea came into their view, Selphie oohed and ahhed and left the two men to watch sea turtles and sharks swim by the enclosed tubes. While it wasn't safe to walk inside the tubes due to immense pressure, the trains were safe from the danger and ran entirely on electricity. Coal had long been abandoned from everywhere except certain parts of Galbadia. Nuclear power was thought to be originating from Esthar as proof of artifacts emerged in recent years, but nobody could clarify that.

Zell walked past a musing Selphie and checked the bedrooms, which were lavishly decorated for the SeeD's arrival. Squall joined him and sat down on a plush couch. So excited was the martial artist, though, that he just started bouncing on the couch like a kid in a candy store. A boyish glee was on his face. Squall looked at him with a buzz-killing glance. "Gee. I'm glad you're so excited."

Zell slowly stopped bouncing, and looked at him. Shaking his head without saying anything, he leaned back with his arms spread out behind him and knocked over a set of books and magazines resting on the shelf above the couch. One of the mags fell into his lap. He tossed it to Squall. "Reading was never my thing growing up."

Squall wondered what exactly his _thing_ in life was and glanced at the magazine. A scruffy-looking boxer was on the cover, and the title was called _Pet Pals. _"I don't own a dog."

"Neither do I, but I might some day. Keep it. It might provide some useful training tips."

Squall rolled his eyes and tucked the thin mag inside his leather jacket.

Zell straightened as he remembered something most direly important in his mind. "It pays to be a SeeD, man. Look at all this luxury! Our mission is going to be sweet, if this keeps up."

Squall shrugged.

"Hmm.. Squall, you know anything about Timber."

"Not particularly. And I don't particularly care, either."

"What? How can you say that, man! Let me tell you all about it."

"Nah, that's okay, man, thanks."

Zell leaned forward and gave him some puppy dog eyes. "Don't be like that. I wanna tell you."

Freaked out and sensing that this could go on forever, he relented. "Fine, Zell. Spill your guts."

"Nothing to spill really. Timber used to be a country surrounded by deep forests. Eighteen years ago, though, Galbadia invaded, and Timber fell very easily to the advancement. It is now an occupied territory under the Galbadian government. Rumors persist that a huge number of resistance factions, both big and small, are running everywhere in the city and the countryside. It's said to be an extraordinary effort."

Squall sat silent and waited. Except nothing else came after that. "...And?"

Zell smiled. "That's it."

Squall looked at him as if he was just shot. "Well, I guess I learned something today."

Zell laughed slightly. "Glad to be of help."

The door opened, and Selphie walked in. She looked pale and disoriented, and her hand was on the back of her head. Squall got up, worried, and went to help her, but she gave a pained gasp and slumped onto the bed. She was out cold but still breathing. Squall opened his mouth, but no words could come through. He heard Zell shout as well and clutch the back of his head. Quickly, the martial artist passed out too and slumped down on the couch.

Squall looked at his two companions, and fear gripped his heart tightly again. But that wasn't the pain he felt. A soft whirring sound quickly grew loud and smacked his ear drums violently. A repeating spasm reverberated off his spinal cord into his brain, and pounded his whole body violently. He didn't know which part to attend to, and he couldn't reach for his GF gems to aid him-- they were probably laughing at his plight. He slumped to his knees, and screamed at the pain that was tearing his skull apart. A white light appeared in front of him, and he lost all recognition of the world around him.

* * *

The sky was too bright, and his head was buzzing. Laguna Loire was irritated at something, but he was too stubborn to figure out what it was. His head had been hurting him ever since they had gotten separated from the convoy. His head felt like somebody was inside there pounding away at his skull. His partners, the wiry dark-skinned Kiros Seagill and the six-foot eight barrel-chested Ward Zabac, looked equally flushed and irritated. Yet, it was most likely generated towards him. Laguna was the one that had gotten them separated from the convoy.

They were in the forests of Timber, and there was fire and smoke everywhere. Previous airstrikes from the Galbadian forces had decimated wide swaths of the land just hours ago, and the horrible burning smell of the marshlands and trees was plaguing their nostrils. The surprise attack had been ordered for noontime to the citizens of the Timber countryside, but newly elected President Deling had ordered the strikes to occur a few hours earlier. The forest creatures scattered around them, and the three wandering soldiers saw a few dead bodies sprawled in the brush.

Laguna had his submachine gun out at the ready for resistance movements were running rampant in this part of the world. Forest "Owls", "Foxes", and "Bears" had been newly formed just three days ago, and they had protested at the mayor's palace in Timber for better democratic treatment. President Deling had been there that day, and he had personally executed the leaders of the Owl and Fox movements right on the spot, sending the factions scattering and the Galbadian army following. Untold amounts of people had died, and Laguna's stomach was too sick to even think about it. Kiros and Ward felt the same way, and the darker guy really wanted to get out of the jungles badly.

"Laguna," Kiros asked impatiently, "are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Sure I do," he responded with a faint bit of zest in his voice. His face belied his voice, though, and the knowing Kiros shook his head letting the dreadlocks hit him in the face. His daggers hung tightly on his arms, ready to spring out a moment's notice with a quick jerk of his wrist. Ward leaned against a tree, and adjusted the massive anchor on his back. The big man could bench four hundred, and the anchor nearly weighed a hundred pounds. It was a nasty piece to mess with, but he swung it like it was a feather. The three were a motley trio, but seemed to be a very understanding gang. One thing was for sure about them: they absolutely loathed the army.

A loud whirring sound caught their attention, and they recognized it as the Z12s. The Galbadians were preparing a fifth airstrike, and they were caught in the middle of the path. Without saying a word they ran, and they could smell the heat before they heard the blasts. Trees crackled in their death, and rivers steamed in the brink. Flame walls coated the forest floor, and the Sun now looked through huge open flaming pits that were once beautiful overgrown forest patches. Sweat and heat pressed against their backs, as they galloped their heels raw across the broken terrain. The Z12s were much faster, and they decided to jump into a hot lake for a desperate survival attempt. The strafe passed them on the north, and the heat and smoke met them on the lake. It was worse than a sauna, and they received harsh burn marks even in the water. Once the formidable aircraft cacophany subsided, they slowly forced themselves out of the water. The forest jungle was now a fiery den, and several habitats of the animals were thoroughly destroyed. They also saw that the airstrikes had dislodged a secret nest of resistance fighters; most of the faction had been incinerated, but the few that survived immediate death slowly shriveled up against the incredible burning. They howled so great in their pain and spread their fiery flesh onto other plants and trees that had at first escaped the blast. It was a misery the three could not bear, and they each took turns throwing up and trying hard to eject the smoke from their nostrils.

Ward's blue bandana was soaked in the water, but he thanked for that and slowly patted the heat off of him as best as he could. "Laguna, really, this is insane. Aren't we here to demolish the almighty Timber army?"

"Yeah," Kiros added, "and not get caught up in our country's crosshairs!"

Laguna sighed. "Uh... yeah... uh... it's a little bit... hectic out here."

"Don't tell me we're lost again."

"Lost is a subjective thing."

"Subjective! How is that subjective?"

Laguna squinted his eyes. Off in the distance, a Galbadian squad car had rammed into a tree after being hit by sniper fire from a resistance faction. The soldiers had eliminated the small group, but they had abandoned it before the airstrikes came. Perhaps it was still functionable? "Forget about the semantics, for now. It's a mess out here!"

"Damn right, Loire!" Ward jeered. "What's the next best thing you can come up with?"

"We're movin' out, men. We're gettin the heck out of Dodge! Come on." He left their puzzled stares and raced off to the rammed car. They saw what had attracted his attention and beat feet to catch him. The squad car looked to be unable to make it from Timber to Deling City in one rickety piece, but they had no other options. Cranking the monster to life, they messed with the transmission a little and plunged the crappy beast off of the tree and into a bush. Reversing the guage around, they hauled the vehicle off on a zigzaggy pattern throughout burning bush and timber out of the city of Timber and onto the open plains.

They kept their fingers crossed and were extremely surprised to be able to successfully make it to... the borders of Deling City. The axle on the car collapsed, all four tires popped, and the driver side door fell off. Laguna smiled at his friends and said, "Told ya my thinking's always correct."

"You never said your thinking's correct," Kiros replied.

Laguna dumbly thought about that and said, "Well, it's correct now."

"Well, not really. We didn't really accomplish our mission."

"Did you really want to kill some resistance movements?"

"Nah, not exactly."

"I'm not so sure the Galbadian army is gonna enjoy our excuses," Ward piped up drearily.

"Bah!" Laguna waved the comment off. "Excuses are for weenies! We're here at the big city to lay off and cool down." He got out of the open doorway, stepping hard on the fallen door.

Kiros and Ward shook their heads, before the dark-skinned dagger fighter asked, "Drinking again?"

"At the Galbadian Hotel?" Ward continued.

Laguna raised an eyebrow. "Am I that easy to tell apart?"

Both of his friends shook their heads. "No," Kiros replied, "it's just drinking isn't the only thing too easy to tell apart."

Ward lumbered out of the dilapidated vehicle and grinned knowingly, "We already know you're not in it for the drinking, man. Just admit it already."

Laguna looked at his friends and could not seem to register what they were referring to. Kiros shook his head again at his counterpart's composure. "The piano lady always seems to play on the nights that you go there."

He was actually shocked that Kiros would call her that, and he was even angry that they had called his bluff once again. Unfortunately, he couldn't help but redden at the cheeks at the mentioning of her. "I wasn't going to watch Julia play."

"Ohhhh!" Kiros winked at Ward. "Julia! That was her name, did you remember that, Ward?"

Ward struggled to suppress a laugh.

"Dammit, you two. That isn't funny."

"Come on Laguna," they both said grabbing both of his arms, "don't make us drag you now."

The three of them entered the city, which was currently running a tight curfew against the working-class and poor people within the city limits. The violence spurning the entire length of the continent was being driven by these lower classes by the sudden weeklong onslaught against Timber and other smaller communities, and the upper echelon was convinced that every lower-tier class structure was a suspect. All the classes were issued on a prolonged basis an identification card, and any person not registering their proper class status was instantly detained on the spot. No telling how long this treatment would endure. Only the Galbadian and Deling army were allowed to walk unrestrained, for they were the ones involved in the search-and-seizure. The drive from the horrible devastation of the Timber countryside had swung the mighty Sun away from the land, and the Moon was reaching its highest peak as the motley crew neared the grand Galbadian Hotel.

Deling City was currently the largest city in the world, comprising some three million people. It was a tightly condensed city limit surrounded by only three suburbs containing only the rich people inside. The poor people lived on the southeastern and northeastern sides packed in terrible tenements where the electricity worked for only eight hours a day and hot water was an alarming scarcity. The working-class lived on the northwestern and southwestern sides of the city; they endured fully powered and heated water conditions, but their living arrangements were just as bad as the poor. The heart of the city was where capitalism flourished, and all the fine arts, institutions, and casinos lay-- a total eyesore from outer space. The three rich suburbs were all in the north and faced the northern sea with a fantastic view. The largest city in the world was a very rudimentary scale compared to every other city on the planet.

The heart of the city was the only part of the city limit with half-decent paving, and even here the roads were wrecked. Too much money poured into the assets of the market but not into the liabilities of the infrastructure. The high points of the town, like the Hotel, were made sure to be impressive so as not to deter business. Grand fountains and cobblestone walkways lit up the entrance to the Galbadian Hotel, and the three of them oohed and ahhed their way inside-- even though they were fully aware of the place already. The forum lobby was an opulent splendor, and the staff were dressed in elegant decor; they had painted smiles of delight on their faces, and they strained in their minimum wage jobs to provide the best service of the city. A great multi-faceted chandelier hung from the ceiling by a gold chain, and exquisite tile lined all the floor. The biggest draw, however, was down below. Descend the stairs, and everyone gawked at the red-carpet treat. A beautiful bar and lounge awaited the reserved guests and the military convoys with the greatest opulent splendor in the world. Every wine and liquor made on the planet was sold here, as well as the finest cuisine. Cabaret and dance were played in the afternoons and evenings. At midnight, as of this current time, the lounge was closing into its last act, and most of the alcohol was reserved off for all except the military units. There happened to be only two other soldiers with them as well as the hostess. A grand piano was set on stage.

The two soldiers, one a captain and the other a newly signed on private, were both drunk and passing out. They were waiting for their favorite wet dream to come on stage, but the alcohol flowing through their veins was besting them. They slumped back in their seats and paid no heed to Laguna, Kiros, and Ward. The three looked around for a while, until the hostess came up and surprised them. "Ah, Laguna, right? Your usual table is ready, please."

Kiros bumped him on the shoulder, and Laguna thanked the hostess sheepishly. They settled in their spot, which happened to be the closest to the piano, and drank from their usual pitchers the hostess gave them. The booze was strong, and their stomachs attempted vainly to recede from the attack.

They drank and waited. As they were a little early, Laguna raised up a question that had been bothering him the whole day. "So, like, have you two heard those stories about those supposedly god-like things called faeries?"

Kiros coughed in his glass. "Are you that drunk already?"

"No! I wish I was, but I just can't get those thoughts out of my mind."

"Are you referring to an off-and-on buzzing sound floating around in your head?" Ward asked.

Laguna's eyes brightened. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. My head's been buzzing all day, ever since we got in those killing fields."

"Mine too. It's still buzzing."

"Well," Kiros said, "so has mine been all day today. But what has that got to do with faeries, Laguna?"

"According to mythology, faeries come every so often and do weird little mind spells on your behavior, forcing you to see or do things that you otherwise wouldn't necessarily see or do. Think about it: if you and I are each experiencing the same weird phenomenon, isn't that a definitive explanation to understanding why that weird thing is happening to all three of us?"

Kiros pushed Laguna's beer mug away. "I think the faeries in there are doing more weird things than I care to see at this point."

Laguna brought it back, spilling some on the table. "I'm telling you, that's a definitive explanation!"

"Since our country's in a war, it's safe to assume that that's just battlescars talking, Laguna."

"I'm not that complacent. This is big time stuff."

"So is that walking down the stairs," Ward remarked, winking at the other two. The piano player, Julia Heartilly, came strolling down the stairs in a beautifully cut long red dress. Her short brown hair covered one eye, and her smooth creamy skin shined radiantly in the lounge's dim lighting. Her red high heels glimmered, and Laguna was drawn to her painted nails keenly admiring her beauty and unaware of his friends' snickering.

"You going for it tonight?" Ward asked.

Laguna shot around, and his face flushed. Kiros had his arms crossed and sat in a relaxed pose, smiling at Laguna. "Go for it, man. You've been wanting to say 'hi' to her for a long time."

Their squad leader shook his head. "Whatever, man. Can't you see she's working?"

"Don't go back on your word, now."

"Give me a break."

Ward laughed and finished his mug with one big gulp. "We know you'll do it."

Whether he wanted to or not, Laguna Loire found himself standing up to his surprise. Something compelled his unusually stiff legs to inject movement in them, and he clumsily walked towards the piano. Julia Heartilly was playing a soft piece with gentle fingers, and she had a very sweet smile on her face. Laguna wasn't sure if she was aware of him walking towards her, for she kept on playing and she seemed to close her eyes thinking of the sound in which her mind's eye was enacting for her. He stood at the base of the stage and admired her beauty. _To be this close to Julia_, he thought. He could smell her perfume from here, for it was always the same, that sweet magnolia scent mixed with her own bodily scent. She probably did it on purpose, but he never minded. He had come into this lounge some months ago for the first time and had stayed all the way to midnight when she came in. He was, needless to say, head over heels in love over her, and they had never spoken a word together. He wanted desperately to convey his feelings, but he was unsure of himself that he acted unaccordingly all the time.

Even now.

_Uh-oh_.

He tried to fight it, but he failed. Again. His leg cramped up, and he winced in his pain. Always his leg cramped up, whenever he felt beautiful moments of bliss. Not always around Julia either. Not wanting to look like a fool again in front of her, he did a little bow in her direction and lumbered off to his table. He sat down next to his bemused friends and slowly worked off the cramp.

Kiros couldn't hide his snicker. "Good work, Laguna."

Ward had ordered another mug and was halfway done. "Didn't think you'd actually do it. I believe our popularity rating has gone up a point."

"That's true and all. But... um... Laguna... you cut a pretty pitiful factor of the manliness scale up there. That was pretty sad."

Laguna rapped his knuckles on the table. "Say what you want." He sighed. "Julia sure is pretty."

Kiros raised his eyebrows, and Ward almost dropped his mug. The darker man nudged the big man off from the table and said to Laguna. "Look, leader, we need to go for a little while."

Laguna looked dumbly at his partners. "Wh-Where are you going?"

"Relax and stay a while, Laguna. It's on us tonight." Both of them went to the bar to order more drinks for themselves, and Laguna just sat there wondering what the hell was going on. He felt aware of somebody watching him, and he turned to stare into the two most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen.

Julia stood right next to him, her lips forming a perfect smile and lighting up her cheeks. "May I?"

Butterflies erupted in his stomach, and he clumsily made room for her on the table seat. When she sat down, he was at a loss of words. The smell of her perfume engulfed him, and he couldn't help but smile so big that he thought his cheeks would be torn off from the pressure.

Her eyes slowly roamed for his, and she asked in her sweet, lyrical voice, "Was I interrupting anything?"

"N-N-N-Not at all." _Ah shit. Why am I stuttering?_

She giggled and made herself more relaxed on the seat. Her red dress was a deep V cut, and her small chest lay tantalizing beneath it; he didn't want to seem too overt, but it was impossible not to look. He wasn't aware of the still persisting cramp in his leg, but she was. "You OK now?"

"M-My l-leg? Oh, heh, it's f-fine. Happens all the time when I get n-nervous?" He coughed the last word.

Her hair fell to the side of her eye, showing more of the luscious green pupil. "Were you nervous?"

"Oh, yeah. Still kinda am."

"You can relax. You don't have to get nervous around me."

He gulped. "Oh, sorry."

She looked towards the bar and around the lounge. "Say... " and she lowered her voice, "would you like to talk somewhere private? I have a room here."

He couldn't quiet himself. "In your room!?"

She shook her head and smiled. The two drunken soldiers had briefly snorted awake, and Kiros and Ward were attempting to listen in. She stretched and replied, "It's pretty hard to get comfortable when everybody's around. If you'd like to, please come by. I've been wanting to talk to you." His stupefied reaction puzzled her momentarily, and she asked, "You don't want to?"

Laguna flinched. "No, of course I do!"

She stood up and smiled. "Then I'll go ahead and wait for you. Ask Ms. Lewis at the front desk for my number, ok?" She squeezed his hand and walked to the stairs and up to the lobby.

He watched her leave, the sway of her hips inviting all kinds of thoughts into his head. _Am I dreaming?_ A great euphoric feeling entranced him. The day's struggles of the war front had collapsed his inner strength until now. Now he felt invigorated like there was no tomorrow. _No! This cannot be a dream!_ He knew this was the real deal, and he was about to prove that he could handle it.... unless he once again hogged all the conversation to himself. He looked toward the other people in the bar. The drunks, unaware of what had transpired, slowly went back to being passed out again. The hostess smiled to herself and went about cleaning the place up, and Laguna's partners raised their mugs in a farewell toast. Laguna smiled sheepishly at their gesture and slowly walked up the stairs to the lobby.

The front desk clerk gave him a look as if to say _What kind of scruffy army grunt would attract this girl's attention?_ She almost conceded to not address Laguna, but she listened anyway. The poor soldier couldn't help but fumble his speech again. "Um... whi-whi-which---"

She snorted. "Julia's room?"

He nodded his head.

"You must be Mr. Laguna Loire. Please, sir, right this way." She led him up to the fourth floor of the hotel that was reserved for the richer guests. Private penthouse suites lay up here with fancy decorum and fashionable tastes. The clerk knocked on one of the doors and left Laguna standing there all sheepishly at the ready. Julia opened the door, and he almost caved there on the spot. She pulled him in, and he could see she was a little nervous herself. Soft music played in the background, and her room overlooked the entire bulk of Deling City as well as the northern sea in the distance. The sparkling myriad of lights in the business district and from the great Lion's Park in the center of the city were marvellous to behold.

Julia looked him up and down and smiled. "Thank you for coming."

"No... not at all. Thanks for inviting me."

She moved to the side of a couch and patted it. "Please have a seat."

Butterflies erupted again in his stomach, and he slowly prodded his legs over to the couch. Sitting down, the couch felt comfy on his ass, but he didn't feel relaxed. He got up and walked over to a chair by the wall. The chair overlooked the city, though, and he somehow didn't feel relaxed by that, too. He got up again and went to walk over to Julia, and he caught her laughing quietly. "What's the matter, Laguna?"

He scratched the back of his head. "I-It's nothing really. I'm just a big fan of yours, so I'm really kinda nervous, you know?"

"So that's why you come to hear me play all the time."

He flinched. "You.. You saw me?!"

She nodded. "You were always smiling while listening, right? You have beautiful eyes, though they seem a little scared right now." She giggled. "They're not all the time, though, they always sparkle underneath that dim lighting in there. I always look for them whenever I play."

He smiled a little. "You.. You do?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to talk a little, gazing into those eyes." She went to the fridge and pulled out some wine. "Would you like a drink?"

His nervousness subsided. "I must be dreaming...."

The wine worked on both of them, but it hit Laguna like a brick. His voice, though, became a telescreen and poetic sentences and structures emitted out. He rambled on and on about his military exploits and his gripes against them. Some of them went like this: "Yeah, I don't like fighting much, it wears you down and seems to soak everything good about you away. My comrades and I just got done with a little mission over in Timber against some of the resistance fighters. I mean, I understand both sides of the issue, but I just don't believe the best solution is to terminate them all-- which is exactly what the army is doing. I just--I just can't see the logic in that." Others: "You see, Kiros and Ward are always with me on my travels. What's pretty much the only benefit with the army is that you can see places and meet people that you wouldn't otherwise meet, like this one outing in Dollet. That port city has a spectacular shrimp outpost there, and the fishermen running that place are some of the most intelligent folk I've ever seen." The clock had run an hour during this time, before he switched into another tactic. "You know, I really want to quit the army and become a journalist! That way I can tell people about all the things I've seen on my travels. Like, the other day, one of my blurbs wound up in a daily column over in Galbadia, I thought that was way cool."

Julia laid her back against the couch, had crossed her creamy legs together, and remained sipping glasses of wine while listening to the hapless man in front of her drone on an on. She never stopped smiling, though, and while some of the talk was compromised by the booze, she nevertheless felt something... special with it. She remembered everything he said, although she never joined in on the conversation. He was reaching a lull at the hour-and-a-half mark, and when she tried to continue the conversation, he passed out on the couch. She looked and saw that unbeknownst to the both of them, Laguna had consumed nine full glasses of wine. She was feeling a little loopy, but she was still aware of her surroundings, and she watched him sleep. During the course of his ramblings, he had taken off his soldier vest and jacket, and he had on underneath a grey undershirt over a wiry body with a decent set of abs and chest muscles. She didn't want to wake him up, for he lay sprawled on the couch sleeping like a baby; his voice and his personality had invigorated a whole new image in her head, and she felt really comfortable with him there-- even if he was incapacitated.

A few hours went by, and he woke up. His heart stopped momentarily, because he thought he had made a complete fool of himself. When he turned to look at her, though, she was smiling at him and silently contemplating something. The wine was in her system, too, but even though one of the straps was hanging loosely on her dress allowing more of her skin to show, there was something more deeper in the air than a cheap thrill. "I didn't know wine made you so sleepy," she said smiling and letting her beautiful snow-white teeth show.

Laguna quickly straightened up, and he realized that his nervousness had long since vanished. He wondered what this girl was thinking. "I'm sorry, I hogged all the conversation."

She only smiled.

"Tell me more about yourself. Your dreams for the future."

She blinked, for she had wanted him to ask her that question. Now that he did, she was at a loss for words. She got off the couch, stretched her lovely back, and went to look out over the city. She thought long and hard before answering. "I... you know, I really want to sing... besides playing the piano."

He silently cheered to that. Getting off the couch as well, he said, "I'd really love to hear that. I bet your voice would be perfect."

She suddenly frowned and looked away from the city. "I can't though. My songwriting skills are too weak." She stopped his remark by saying to him, "Thanks to you, though, that's all changed."

"Wha--?"

"I can come up with something now." She walked towards him and lightly scratched his chest playfully. "The many faces you've shown me have given me a glimpse into the outside world, they've.... they've shown me how other people think and react to the life around them. You have shown me every kind of emotion imaginable... times when you were hurt, times when you were worried. Or felt pain deep inside you. Still other times when you fought that pain and overcame it. Your smile, your face, your eyes, all of you. You've shown me something, Laguna, that no one else has ever been able to do. I think I can come up with a song that can best describe those interactions in their best possible form."

He felt like he was floating on a cloud, and he was at a loss for words. He cursed himself for not thinking up something better than the lame response he uttered. "I _must_ be dreaming."

She covered his hands with the warmth of hers and drew close to him. Her warmth and her scent enveloped him, and he focused all on her with the light dimming in the background and the sprawling city a figment of the imagination. Her green eyes met his dark brown ones. "Is this a dream, Laguna?"

"No, this is better than a dream," he replied, and their lips met. Everything ceased to be, and there was only the two of them there holding each other in the middle of the room. In their mind's eye, they were in a kaleidoscope of colors, and the heat from their bodies emanated the room mixing warm neutal colors with hot bright ones. Their lips moved slowly, and their tongues met briefly. Their hands slowly explored their bodies, while their bodies slowly moved against each other discovering new locations.

A frenzied knock at the door muted everything back to the cold drabby reality.

"Laguna!" It was Kiros. "The President wants every soldier alive and well in Deling City to come immediately to the Presidential Palace, on the double!"

They slowly released their embrace, and Laguna was visibly irate. She squeezed his hand to bring a more happier expression to him. "Can.... can we meet again?" She sounded very sad.

"Yes," he replied, a smile returning to his face. "I have to hear you sing."

She smiled at that and gave him a kiss on the lips. He left her room and went to give his comrades a nasty word or two.

* * *

Squall Leonhart awoke with a piece of shag carpeting in his mouth. He spat it out and clumsily stood up to his shaky feet. The ground seemed to sway beneath him, and he leaned against the bedpost to steady his balance. The immense pain in the back of his head was gone, and the scenery was as it should have been. Confusion and fear gripped his mind, though, as well as the strange dream that he had experienced. He looked around and saw that he was still in the train car. An annoucement rang out that Timber was on its way in five minutes. Zell and Selphie were sitting on the couch awake and were just as confused and worried. "Were..." Squall tried to say, "were we all asleep?"

Zell stretched himself on the couch and slowly got up. "Maybe someone released some sleeping gas? There are lots of people in this world who hate SeeD."

"Sleeping gas?" Squall didn't like the sounds of the that. "Is anyone missing anything?" He searched himself, as they did the same. Their weapons were still here, as well as their GFs and identification cards. "It seems everything is normal, besides the blackout."

"That's a relief!" Selphie said, sighing contentedly. Zell and Squall watched as a big smile formed on her face.

"Well, you seem particularly happy," Zell noted.

"Hee! I can't really explain what happened to us, but I had such a great dream!"

"A dream, huh?" Zell thought about that, remembering his own. "Mine was interesting, too."

Squall looked at the both of them, and the mention of their dream brought back his own. He wasn't really impressed by it, though, for he believed the main guy in his dream was an absolute fucking moron. He continued to lean against the bedpost and tried to get lost in thought some more.

"Seriously!" Selphie shouted. "Sir Laguna is soooo cute!!"

Squall looked at her sharply. _What the hell!_ he thought. He had thought he heard the name wrong, but he saw Zell give the same look. "Laguna?" he asked. "The Galbadian soldier?"

She looked at him funny. "Yeah, he went to a bar and kissed some lady."

"Laguna... Kiros... and Ward?" Squall asked, uneasiness filtering his voice.

Both Zell and Selphie looked at him and slowly nodded. The room felt deathly eerie. Squall fought for something to say, but he realized that nothing would sound good at this stage. "Lets... put this on hold and I'll inform the Headmaster when we get back, all right?"

They nodded their heads, and the train pulled to a stop. They had arrived at Timber Station. The great hydraulics of the beast opened up, and they walked outside to an old lumber and coal-mining town that looked badly beseiged still by previous decades of warfare. A thin perpetual haze succumbed the city, and the air was somewhat difficult to breathe. The train pulled out steadily, and they walked down the station's ramp into the first business district. Most of the shops were boarded up and only open for a certain period of time. They saw on the outskirts of the town units of the Galbadian military patrolling the streets. President Vinzer Deling was supposedly coming to town, and the guards were on high alert. No telling when their contact was supposed to meet them.

A pet shop and travel buereau were the first commercial buildings to greet them off the ramp, and only three citizens were out and about on the streets. An elderly lady was unsuccessfully trying to sell an expensively-priced brochure, a little boy was trying to open the pet shop to get his dog, and a young man in a brown leather sport coat and blue trucker's hat was standing by the edge of the ramp. He was the one who took note of the SeeD's approach. A sixth sense must have spurned his gut reaction. He bellowed out some histrionics. "My! But the forests of Timber sure have changed!"

Squall stopped walking and looked at the man. He was a goofy-looking dude with an overly-pleasing smile on his face. Squall had forgotten the password momentarily because of that weird dream on the train, but Cid's reminder slowly seeped in. "The Owls are still around."

The trucker hat guy raised his fists in a celebration and went to shake Squall's hand. The dude's palms were filthy sweaty. "Welcome to Timber, sir! Right this way, sir!"

Squall was disgusted, for he recognized that this guy was a lackey. _Are all the resistance members like this?_ Since their mission was to _assist_ they followed the dude quickly down the streets taking shortcuts to avoid any patrolling soldiers and found another train. It was made up of only two parts: the conductor's cart and a passenger cart, although the passenger cart was more elongated than normal looking more like two passenger carts fused together. They climbed inside the awaiting train, and the conductor immediately took off and drove on the tracks leading into the badly burned out forest.

Onboard the train, SeeD noticed a new fellow in a dark blue shirt and coifed up black hair come to address them. He too seemed to smell like the trucker hat guy, and his shirt underneath his arm pits was wet with sweat. He stuck out his hand to Squall. "My name is Zone, you must be the members of SeeD Balamb Garden sent us."

Squall did not even looked at the outstretched hand and merely remarked. "That's right. My name is Squall. This is Zell, and that is Selphie."

Zone seemed confused by Squall's demeanor, but he shrugged it off. Zell had his hand outstretched to accept a greeting, but Zone ignored it. "I'm the leader of the Forest Owls," he said. Indicating the man who greeted them earlier, he said, "This is Watts. He's our data specialist."

Watts cheerfully bowed his head. "Collecting data is my specialty, sir!"

Squall raised an eyebrow and appeared perturbed. "Well, that's great. Now what is it you all want us to do."

Zone waved that off to Squall's dislike. "Our most important person in this operation is not here at this moment, Mr. Squall. We need her introduction first and foremost."

Watts hiccupped. "The princess, sir? It is... uh... it is her naptime, right now, sir."

Zone sucked in breath. "Dammit. Why now." He looked at Squall, although he was sure of the response. "Um... Squall. I'm sorry to bother you with the trivialities, but.. uh.. can you go get the princess?" He could see Squall's eyes growing fierce. "She's in... the last room on the left."

Squall clenched his fist. "What do I look like? A fucking gopher!"

Zone stepped back and hit the door behind him. He didn't seem used to anger before. "She's the one that drives the spirit of this group together. It is imperative that we have her here." His voice died down at the end, for Squall's ire was visible. Zell and Selphie felt the same way, but they were busy talking about the dream they had experienced earlier.

Squall shook his head and pointed at Zone. "You only get away with this order once."

His remark and the combination of Zone's own personal problems caused his stomach to heave. Squall watched as the leader of the Forest Owls crouched on the floor and clutch his stomach. Zone's face was strained, and he looked like he had constipation. Squall looked at Watts, and Watts replied, "He's been having stomach problems, sir! Nothing to be alarmed of, sir."

"Are you going to go fetch this... _princess_?"

"Sorry, sir! Fetching data is my specialty, sir!"

Squall silently wrote up a slew of curse words in his brain and stormed down the narrow hallway. This was by far the most wretched thing he had ever done. SeeD wasn't meant to be a scavenger hunt, what the hell was this all about? He found the _princess's_ door, and he wondered what kind of bumfuck royalty this little queenie belonged to, and he thrust the door open wildly. A little too wildly for it came back and smacked him in the face. As he smoothed out the blow, he heard a low growl and saw a groomed dog eyeing him from the top of a bright pink bed. Looking around, the whole room was pink: the floor, walls, and ceiling. He walked slowly inside and almost became sick. Surely this princess had a favorite color.

A click-click sound was heard, and he turned to the closet and saw a petite woman aiming a weapon at him that looked like a cross between a submachine gun and a crossbow. The weapon hung on her left wrist and looked specifically deadly and accurate. However, he didn't really care about that as he should have; rather, this girl was the same girl whom he danced with at the SeeD party!

He stood there dumbly in the path of her sights, and the reality of that hit him, too. However, she recognized him as well and brought her bowgun down. "You're that guy from the party!" The same sweet, lyrical sound flowed from her voice.

He nodded, but before he could respond, she jumped on him and gave him a big bear hug. Totally surprised, he pried her off and stepped back. She was still smiling big and she was overly enthusiastic. "So, you _are _a SeeD ambassador. I figured that!"

"You did." He noticed that she was the only person on this train belonging to the Forest Owls who actually smelled good. Her smooth creamy pale skin was alit in the pinkish glow of the room, and she had a black spaghetti strap shirt and black biker shorts. A deep blue cloak was draped around her that was a button-up, but she had only buttoned two of them across her stomach. The deep V-cut of her shirt showed some pretty nice assets that she had. Her dog, he guessed it was hers, seemed to quiet down as it watched the two of them talk.

"I've been sending requests to Headmaster Cid for weeks now, but nothing came out of them. Our group, the Owls, have been fighting a losing battle against the Galbadian army, and we really needed some outside help. I'm so glad I spoke to him directly."

"Oh? So you we're looking for the Headmaster at the party?"

The girl sensed his question in a different way than how he intended it, and she shook her head at the thought. "I _was_ looking for someone to dance with. And I'm happy enought to find someone with some pretty good moves."

"Uh-huh."

She laughed it off. "You know Seifer?"

He paused. "Almasy?"

"He's the one who introduced me to Cid. Cid is such a nice man."

Squall folded his arms across his chest and wondered how the disturbed gunblade man was doing.

The girl continued. "I didn't think that SeeD would come out to help a measly group like us, but after explaining our situation to him Cid gave the green light for you all." She giggled, and the sound seemed to annoy him. "Now that you all are here, our mission will be able to expand greatly. We'll be able to make all sorts of plans!" She went to her bathroom mirror and started making herself more presentable. "What's your name, dear sir?"

"Squall... Squall Leonhart."

"Squall Leonhart. That sounds nice." She blushed up her cheeks and examined her eyelashes with a dutiful intent. "My name's Rinoa. Rinoa Heartilly. Everybody here calls me the "princess", because, quite frankly, I get whatever I want done, and nobody challenges that. Ever."

Squall raised an eyebrow.

She pointed to the dog on the bed. "That's my partner-in-crime. Mr. Angelo. I found him hunkering in the forest on one of our missions. He had belonged to a poor family who were... burned in Galbadia's campaigns. We have grown very close, and he knows a lot of tricks. He's the best friend I could ever have."

Squall looked at Angelo, and the silly dog gave him a look as if to say _Damn right, buster, I'm the King of this joint_. The mutt's tongue came out, and he rolled on his back and fell right to sleep. Rinoa finished her womanly duty and came back out to Squall. "How many are with you, Squall?"

"Just two others."

"Three people, huh? Well, I'm sure one would be enough, but three will definitely get the job done."

"I'm sure. We should be going."

"Right," she said, but she did not go. "Is _he_ here?"

"'He'?"

"Seifer?"

Squall found that odd. "No. He failed the SeeD exam."

Rinoa didn't respond, and they left the room. Zell and Selphie down at the other end widened their eyes in surprise as they found the "princess" to be totally unlike their expectations of a haggard old smelly crony that their impressions of Zone and Watts had given them. The group exchanged pleasantries, and the Forest Owls escorted SeeD into the conference room.

"Just stand anywhere you want," Zone said, the pain in his stomach for now subsided. The conference room was small, and its walls were filled with detailed descriptions of the Galbadian army and pamphlets from _Anarchist Monthly_. A large map of the continents of Galbadia and Deling hung on the largest wall and showed tacks marking specific areas of Galbadian concentration. Only one tack had a tag hanging from it that read _SUCCESS_ on it to show that the Owls had disrupted a concentration. A photo of Vinzer Deling hung on the top of the furthest wall and was vandalized beyond almost all recognition. Zone continued, "This is a full-scale operation, and unlike any we've yet to accomplish."

Watts couldn't help but beam like an idiot, and Zone had to bask in his own stupefied glory. "We, the Forest Owls, will forever be known in the pages of Timber's independence!" He basked some more before looking at the blank faces of the SeeD members. "Doesn't that sound exciting?"

Not waiting for a response, Watts burst, "I got the info, sir!"

"Yes, yes. This plan was hatched when Watts here, this group's supreme data specialist, found out that the President of Galbadia on behalf of the commander-in-chief of Deling City is heading towards Timber for a big speech at the General Assembly---"

"--A super big speech, sir!"

"President Deling is Timber's VIP for the weekend."

"Deling is a scoundrel, sir! He's not a president, he's a bleedin dictator, sir."

Rinoa settled them down. "President Deling is coming to our city on a private train from the capital."

"So what's the plan?" Selphie asked, impatiently. "Blow up the damn thing with a rocket launcher?"

Both Zone and Watts seemed to squeak, and Rinoa flinched. Zell was impatient, too. "If not, then get to the point please."

"All right," Rinoa said and pointed to the model trainset that was in front of them on a table. "This is a replica of the countryside rail system surrounding Timber." The model had two sets of tracks encircling the city. On one track had a two cart train, and the other track had a four cart train. "This yellow two-carter is our 'base' of operations, and it represents our position. As we've been riding, we have hooked up with another cart that will be called the 'dummy cart'. This will be useful later. The other train is Deling's transportation. Their engineer's cart is hooked up to the first escort cart. Deling's cart, which is the red one, is surrounded by the first escort cart and the second escort cart. That's to make sure he is well protected. Guards roam each escort cart, so we have to take that into account."

Zone pointed to the second escort cart. "Once our train catches up to theirs, we hop on this cart and begin the operation. The ultimate goal is to sieze President Deling in his car using our 'base'."

Rinoa clarified, "That means we have to switch our 'dummy cart' with their 'president cart'."

"How are we going to do that?" Zell asked.

Rinoa pointed to jutting spikes across the model track. "The further our trains go, we'll run into checkpoints that are used to switch the carts around onto different tracks. Our plan is to separate the escort cars from each other and cut the president car off from the main line. To cut the hook-ups, the squad leader of SeeD will be going down and implementing codes on the breaker boxes to dismantle the security system."

Zone started to move the models. "Once we catch up to their train, we hop on the second escort car and sneak across. We must keep an eye out for the guards, for they'll be employing some new state-of-the-art surveillance equipment and sensors. At the end of the cart, we can be able to safely move across Deling's cart and not have to worry about things too much."

"Deling's a scoundrel, sir!"

"Right, the President is very anal about not letting people disturb his solitude. So, no guards will be patrolling around his cart. That will be his detriment later on." Zone moved the train model to the first jutting spike. "At the end of the president's cart, Squall jumps down and dismantles the security system uncoupling the carts."

Rinoa explained, "We have to get this first set of carts uncoupled before the switch of the tracks, or the plan is shot."

Zone continued, "Our train will move in on the switch, and the coupling process will happen automatically letting us more time to get to our next position." Here, Zone kept one finger on the dummy cart and another on the second escort cart. "We'll split and Zell will get into position to uncouple the dummy cart from our 'base', and Squall will move to uncouple the second escort cart from Deling's cart. This is the most important process, and the most ratcheting from our calculations."

"If all goes well," Rinoa said, "we should be able to reconnect their train together with the dummy cart, and we'll have secured the president's cart to our own. Then we'll begin serious negotiations with the President."

"Or just plain kill the bastard, I say," Zone said bitterly.

"What's this state-of-the-art surveillance equipment they're so proud of?" Selphie asked.

"Temperature and sound sensors, sir!" Watts reportedly ecstaticly, even though Selphie was not a "sir". "They'll be able to detect anyone's presence by sound or infra-red sensor, sir."

"The objective is to move quickly and accurately," Zone clarified, "this mission should be a piece of cake for SeeDs."

"No sweat!" Selphie exclaimed. Zell beamed, while Squall remained silent. He was actually falling asleep, for this plan seemed unconventional and boring. Selphie continued to talk. "By the way, this model is nicely-decorated, except for Deling's cart. I hate to say this but the paint job sucks."

Zone couldn't hold back his smile. "We bought all the other models in Timber, but Rinoa made the president's cart herself."

"Damn," Zell said, "it looks like a little kid made it."

Rinoa snapped disgustedly, "Shut up, I made it look like that on purpose. My hatred for the president runs very deep. And it came out like that."

"Hatred, huh? Hmm."

"That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen," Selphie giggled.

Rinoa chewed on that, and muttered, "Is there any questions on the plan?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Okay, let's decide on a party."

Watts seemed to freeze where he stood. Leaping backwards he cried, "Collecting data is my specialty, sir!" He tore out of the room, banging the door shut.

Zone looked around sheepishly and clutched his stomach, and Squall realized he was feigning it. Rinoa put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Fine, then, it's just us four. Deling's train should be arriving on the outskirts of Timber in twenty minutes. We have some free time until then. Don't get too soft on us, though." She walked out of the room, and the three SeeDs opened up the blinds on the windows. The view showed the devastation that had been wrought onto the once beautiful countryside of Timber. All three of them looked at each other and knew that this was the place in their dream, yet one damning question seemed to ring true in each of their eyes:

_Who the hell was Laguna Loire?_


	7. Mission:Timber

_Run Mission: Timber_

_Through the forests and the haze,_

_Dodging Deling's hand_

Squall knew the mission was at hand, but he was still stuck in a mesmerizing rut. Who the hell was Laguna Loire? For that matter, when he was conked out, why did it feel as if _he_ was Laguna Loire? Every movement that Galbadian soldier made seemed like Squall's movements, except Squall did not make them. It was as if the young SeeD was really and truly having the most advanced out-of-body experience of a lifetime. He endured everything that klutzy soldier did, even the passionate kiss he made to that piano lady. Squall didn't really mind that part, except for the fact that this damn klutz received the better end of the bargain.

He was in the back of the cart out on the "porch" end with the wind smacking him upside the face and the scarred trees racing by. He couldn't shake off that dream, and it had almost consumed his listening skills back at the conference room. He did not want to experience that terrible feeling again, but at the same time he was curious and reeled in to the strange scenario of the Galbadian trio. This was the forest they had been in, he was sure of it. The question was, what became of them afterwards?

His eyes caught a second set of tracks bearing out of a cleared patch of forest, and the sihoullete of an oncoming train was visible in the haze. It was a four-carter, and the third cart was of a red color. He grunted and went back inside; the mission was go.

****

On board President Deling's train, the big man himself had a scowl on his face. He was a large burly man with a dark orangish skin tone and harsh facial features. His nose was especially bulbous and ugly, and his eyes were beady and tempermental. He had slick, oily hair coifed in a wave over his sweaty brow, and he looked uncomfortable with it. His dark blue suit was wrinkled in the back around his belt, and his shoes weren't polished. This was a man despised by many and who solely relied on the few loyalists he kept along as advisors. He was itching to get his referendum passed, and he was not a patient man with time. He sat in his plush decor silently contemplating the next few hours, when his golden-carved door opened up.

A panicked private came in doing a clumsy salute. "Sir! Er.. Mr. President... we have a bit of a problem, sir!"

Deling's voice was gravelly and not at all concerned about the annoucement. "What is it? The past twenty-six announcements you have made have been everything short of _announcement_, private."

"We've come across a rogue train, sir! Communications identified that tram as a resistance faction ride, sir."

"Resistance, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then dispose of it, private. What the fuck do you think you should do?"

"Y-Yes, sir." _Dammit,_ he thought to himself _there goes this month's paycheck. How am I going to propose to her now?_ He left the room, and the President settled more uncomfortably in his seat. Looking out the window, though, he saw the rogue train approaching and smiled to himself.

****

Squall climbed the rickety ladder with Zell and Selphie in tow. Rinoa was already waiting for them with her bowgun out at the ready. The wind was whipping hard as their train's conductor picked up speed to come to the corner of the second escort cart. All four knew the Galbadians were aware of their presence. It was only a matter of time before they popped out.

Rinoa pointed to a wristwatch above her strapped bowgun and then held up five fingers to Squall, signalling the amount of time required before the operation was deemed a failure. Once the corner was of an easy distance, she turned her back to them and jumped onto the enemy's train. She clumsily got her balance and waited for the other three.

Selphie took the lead and hurled herself onto the other train, landing spectacularly on her back. Zell made a less graceful move for a martial artist and fell hard on his stomach. As Squall got ready to leap, a low purring sound crept out of the forest, and a manned Galbadian drone sputtered out into view. It was a silver aerial gunner, a one-man piece of fighter that was extremely agile and versatile. A grill was carved in the front of the drone to allow a stream of photon bursts to spaz out and hit its target. The aerial gunner buzzed around Deling's train and fired his bursts straight at Squall's backside. Squall rolled out of the way, almost falling off the train, as the bursts heated holes in the tin roof of the Owl's train. Squall unsheathed the Shear Trigger from its silver-plated scabbard, and he swung it in arc that caught the rudder of the low-flying drone. The Galbadian drone spun in four complete circles before the soldier could get the mechanics under control and save himself from a deadly crash.

Squall immediately landed hard on his back onto Deling's train, and Zell helped him up to a crouch, so they could proceed to the first escort cart. Selphie conjured a fire bolt spell in her palm, but her thrust missed the aerial gunner, and she had to leave her spot. The gunner steadied his craft and spun towards them for a second attack. Rinoa cocked a sharp steel dart into her bowgun, calmed her nerves, aimed at the console of the aerial gunner, and shot the dart straight into his hand. Blood splattered the plexiglass mirror that protected his face, thwarting his fire of the photons. The craft spun lazily around again, almost crashing into the tracks. The Galbadian soldier decided to evade it, however, and he released a spiked rope that hooked sharply into the roof of the second escort cart. Ejecting out, he didn't bother to watch his craft explode on the ground; he instead focused his arc to land precisely in a crouch on the train. Unsheathing his silver sabre, he eyed the two men warily for they were his closest targets. Zell got in front of Squall first and did a low spinning kick that the Galbadian soldier evaded. The soldier struck with his sword and hit tin roof instead of flesh. Zell punched him hard in his kidney, but the soldier held on. He left his embedded sword and fought Zell in harsh, constrained hand-to-hand combat while the other three looked for an opening. The wind was rushing madly, and all five fought to hold their position as steadily as they could. In a desperate move, the soldier kicked Zell hard in the hamstring but lost his balance. Zell fought his pain and quickly slammed his fist against the soldier's nose, knocking the Galbadian prick to the edge of the train. Squall fired off a lightning bolt that surged underneath the soldier's body and rocketed him off the roof of the train and onto the ground. His body rolled and bounced hard on the tracks, and he passed out for a very long time.

"Come on!" Rinoa shouted, barely audible. They hauled their way carefully across the president's train and onto the first escort. They heard clicks sounding off all the way down the roof. Zell and Selphie went on past them to check for resistance, and Rinoa pulled Squall close to her and yelled in his ear. "They're setting off the sensors! We're gonna have company here in a minute!"

"This plan is _not_ foolproof! You know that?!"

"It will be if we disconnect them in time!!" She thrust a small piece of paper into his chest, and he took it. It had three different codes scrawled sloppily on it. "Can you read it?!" she yelled.

It was almost impossible, but he could just barely make out: _4,2,2,2, ENTER; 3,1,2,4, ENTER; 1,4,3,3, ENTER_. "Yeah, a bunch of numbers!"

"Those three codes will disable the circuits momentarily. The checkpoint's coming fast. I reason within a minute! Use this cable and get down there!"

She thrust the cable cord into his hands, and he fastened one end around him and prepared to drop down. Down the shaft of the cart, Selphie grew alarmed. A small black sensor poked out the side of the railing and started flashing blue. She turned slightly to Rinoa and Squall. "They're enacting a--!!" Her sentence was eclipsed by a loud breaking of glass, and another Galbadian soldier hurled himself on a makeshift cable in a slithering arc onto the roof. He landed on Selphie and pulled out a knife to create a nice slick red line across her throat. Zell, however, jumped the man and proceeded to have a second duel with the enemy. Squall couldn't watch, though, for he saw the brightly illuminated checkpoint down the long stretch. Steeling his nerves, he forced himself down the side of the cart slickly on the cable and smashed the breaker box open. A mess of wires electrocuted at the impact of his foot, and he found the keyboard. He punched in the 4222 and heard a "ding" sound.

Rinoa couldn't decide which scene was more pleasant to watch: Squall's frenzied typing or Zell's blood-splattering brawl. The tattooed boy was very adept at painting the tin roof red, and the soldier died there with roughly eight hard blows to his face. A second soldier, this time an officer in a bright red uniform, surprised him by doing another slithering arc out of the broken window and slicing a thin gash in the brawler's back. Zell caved forward from the sneak attack, and the Galbadian officer prepared to slit his throat. Selphie stopped him by unsheathing her nunchaku and nailing the officer square under the chin. The poor officer fell into the path of the Owl's train and squished many times underneath the powerful rails.

Squall mashed the 1433 and scaled back up to the top. Loud mechanical hydraulics rumbled the cable connectors, and Rinoa signalled for them to hurry, and all four beat feet to the president's cart before the cables disconnected. The checkpoint loomed ever closer, but Deling's transportation split into two and his cart and the second escort cart fell back a ways. The Owl conductor sped his freight up, and the checkpoint reached them. The tracks crossed paths and merged into one gigantic track, and the Owl's tram connected in between the first escort cart and the president's cart. A seamless transition.

****

The panicked private knew this would be the twenty-eighth time he reported to the President. He had cowered in the corner of the first escort cart when the fighting had started. He saw one of his superiors get thrown off the train and then disappear underneath the other one, and he didn't know what to do. He didn't want to know what was in that rogue train or what the motives were of its attack. He didn't even want to go into his commander-in-chief's cart, even though his duty was to protect the President at all cost. No matter how great the cost, he had to do his duty.

So, he manned up, pushed the sweet and better thoughts of his girlfriend away and went into the President's cart.

The scenery looked a little different, tackier. And the President was in a different spot. Or maybe that was his mind playing tricks on him. He stumbled forward, anxiety battering him again.

"S-Sir!" he saluted, and his hand hit his face hard unexpectedly, "The crew are doing their best to stop this threat, Sir!"

The President didn't give a response, and the private saw that he was holding a newspaper. He didn't remember where the newspaper came from, but he wasn't about to ask questions about that. Still, he needed a response for his report.

"S-Sir! Everything is under control, sir!"

Still nothing. The President kept his mind on the paper.

The private walked slowly forward. "S-Sir?"

"What the fuck do you want, soldier!!" The president shrieked, his head never leaving its position, "Can't you see I am busy right now?!"

The private quickly backed up, tripped over a bunch in the rug, and fell on his ass. He got up, saluted rapidly over and over again, and left into the first escort cart.

The dummy president never uttered another word.

****

Rinoa pulled Zell close to her. "I know your back's hurting, but you have to uncouple the dummy cart from ours. Squall will handle this second escort."

"Dammit, Rinoa, my back is killing me!"

"You're a SeeD, right?!"

"That's irrelevant to this matter!"

"After this we're home free, Zell!" She thrust the same codes she gave Squall into his hands. He obliged gravely and went off with Selphie to do the job. The second checkpoint was looming ahead, but to their horror, they saw it was an armed one. Squall cursed at their poor planning, but it was useless to yell about that now. He saw sensors spring out the railings behind him, and he rolled his eyes at the Galbadian's stupidity. He unsheathed his sword and watched as the new soldier slithered his way onto the roof. Only this time, the man had worn some heavier armor. Squall slashed the man's chest and tore off a huge chunk of armor. The soldier stumbled but brandished his own weapon. Time was of the essence, and Squall cursed himself to death. The two traded blows while keeping their crouched positions as best as they could. Sparks flew on their blades, and the Galbadian (Squall had to admit) was a pretty good blocker. Madly, Squall nailed a kick in the soldier's groin and pulled out a GF gem at random. He realized it was Diablos, and he cursed some more-- _a fine choice to pick_, he thought. He was surprised though.

The underworld guardian force had been watching the humans fight from its void, and it was unexpectedly pleased with how the SeeDs carried themselves. It tore itself away from its feud with Ifrit and plunged into the realm of humans once more. Both the SeeDs, the Owls, and the Galbadians looked up to see the black and red monster bellow out of the skies. It aimed directly for Squall's opponent and smacked him clean off the train, soaring his body into a tree. The impact tore the soldier's body in two sending those limp parts scattering into many different parts all across the forest floor. Squall was pleasantly surprised, and he grabbed a shocked Rinoa's code sheet and eschewed down to the breaker box. Diablos looked at the scene below it and saw a few Galbadians manning the armed security checkpoint up ahead. A barrage of photon bursts splattered into its chest, but the massive winged demon seemed to yawn at the effort for the bursts bounced lazily off it. As they reloaded, the creature reared up an attack it like to call Dark Orb and sent a massive ball of deep gravitational energy that seemed to drown out everything it came in contact with. The energy ball collapsed onto the checkpoint and liquidated all the Galbadian soldiers who manned it. The bridges of the checkpoint quaked under the weight, and the ground heaved at its force. The rails were spared damage, as the god saw fit to keep it like that so the humans could sail on by. Pleased with its dark handiwork, Diablos spun around in five circles and disappeared into a cloud of bats that took flight and scattered into the skies.

Zell pulled himself away from the astonishment, quickly cabled himself to the smashed-up breaker box, and typed in furiously the 4222, the 3124, and the 1433. The loud hydraulics worked again, and he pulled himself up. Squall on the other side was busy pushing in the 4343, the 1221, and the 2243 and quickly pulled himself up. Both cables disconnected, and all four of them hopped onto the president's cart.

The demolished and liquidated checkpoint came into view, and the track was about to split back into two separate lines: one to go to Timber and the other to Winhill further down to the south. The dummy cart's connectors unhooked and the middle part fell back. The second escort cart unhooked and fell way back with no steam to carry it further. It was a broken-down bloody mess at this point anyway. The Owl's cart now held the president's cart firmly to itself and split down the separate track heading towards Winhill, while Deling's rapidly fading ride carried off the hapless dummy cart. The mission was successfully halfway complete.

The Owl's conductor put on the brakes, and the two carts slowly came to a complete stop. Rinoa looked towards the three flushed SeeD members and gave a childish smile. She was churning off some devious methods in her mind about the "serious negotiations" she was about to have, and she expected them to have the same opinion. She was a little disappointed, though, and somewhat confused about their perplexed expressions. Zone and Watts came out of the Owl's cart and gave a wild, whooping thumbs-up. All four of them jumped down to the grass, and Squall readied his sword out.

Rinoa saw that and balked, "Put that away."

"Why?"

"These negotiations are supposed to be of a diplomatic nature."

Zone and Watts frantically nodded their heads, although they couldn't help but admire the shininess of the Shear Trigger. Squall looked back at Zell and Selphie who seemed a bit peeved at the harrowing train heist. He turned back to Rinoa, who had her hands on her hips. Squall was visibly seething. "Pardon me. But that wasn't exactly an easy going."

"Yes, I know, but you three proved much more capable than I would have ever thought. What was that demon that poured out from the sky?"

"That was Diablos. He's a Guardian Force."

"Oh!" Watts sputtered, excitedly. "A GF, sir?! I've heard all about them, sir! Though I've never seen one before."

"That was way cool, Squall. I have to say that." Zone had a goofy grin on his face.

Squall could tell Rinoa was unimpressed by his attitude, but he didn't give a damn about that. He looked toward the President's cart. "You sure he's still in here?"

"Deling's a scoundrel, sir!" Watts sputtered. "He'd never leave his ship alone."

Squall waved him off. "I'm asking seriously."

Rinoa crossed her arms under her chest. "Listen up, you three. This is a serious issue _to us_. We've waited so long for a meeting with Vinzer Deling. This vile, rotten, sonofabitch is responsible for the deaths of thousands of villagers in the southeastern part of Galbadia who fought his dictatorial plans. This man is responsible for the absolute wrecking of Timber's economy and countryside. This man is responsible for allying himself with the corrupt system of Deling City and systematically savaging the Dollet Dukedom. I am sure you're aware of that."

Zell and Selphie didn't want to get into politics. They wanted to give this Deling guy a piece of their mind with nunchucks and fists to boot, not sweet-sounding words. Rinoa, though, noticed their movements. "You guys go in there and show brute force, and all that we the Owls have tried to accomplish will be ruined."

"If matters come to brute force," Squall replied angrily, "we're going to show it."

Rinoa took off her bowgun and handed it to Zone, who clumsily put it away. She pointed a finger into Squall's chest. "Then stay in the back and let us handle the frontline."

Watts paled and stepped back. "Collecting data is ... my specialty, sir."

Rinoa's hazel eyes grew angry, and when she looked at Zone they grew even more irate. The leader of the forest Owls clutched his stomach again and crouched onto the grass. Squall couldn't suppress a tacit smile. Rinoa spat, "Zone, your father gave his life literally for this cause! Deling himself assassinated point blank your father and mother. Same as you Watts!"

Watts hung his head, for the memory was too great. "I'll be right behind you, sir."

Zone mumbled the same thing and slowly got up caressing his stomach. The SeeD trio watched the three Owls bump fists of sincere pride, and then Rinoa kicked the president's door in, and they all hopped inside.

****

The President had remained in his seat throughout the entire debacle. The only time he had been slightly afraid of was when that winged creature had sprang from the sky. He realized these newcomers were awfully powerful. He suspected them to be a tough foe to bring down. He had remained in his seat, though, for two reasons. One, there was nowhere else to go. His ride was gone. Two, he was awfully curious to see how this would end up. Surprises, of course, were his specialty.

The door burst open, and he slowly wheeled around to face a pretty girl in a sexy blue cloak and black dress to be the first to greet him. Even though he was approaching his mid-sixties, he could never resist a pretty girl. He had seen a lot of those in his time. A trio of dangerous warriors followed her, and he suspected them to be the main opponents and the source of that devil creature. Two other men in shabby clothes bounced sloppily behind them, and he almost laughed when he saw them. He figured this could go one of two ways. When the pretty girl (with a pretty voice to boot!) spoke up first, he knew the way to take.

Rinoa Heartilly was a fiery, compassionate woman in the ease of the moment. When tense moments like these sprouted up, she hesitated. She looked upon the ugly visage of the man who had destroyed much of her second home and corrupted most of her first, and she had many ideas buzzing around in her head. She actually appreciated Squall's militant approach, but she disliked it all the same. The ugly bulbous nose conflicted with her thoughts, and she stuttered when she spoke. "President D-Deling.... as long as you... d-don't resist... you will not get hurt."

Squall immediately recognized something unpleasant about the president. He looked quickly at Zell and Selphie and saw they had similar impressions. Behind Rinoa's back, out of the man's sight, Squall slipped in a magnum shell into the gun assembly and as softly as he could tightened the mechanism in place.

President Deling eyed various parts of Rinoa with a lusty smile. "As long as I don't resist, I won't get hurt, huh?"

"Y-Yes, that's correct."

His beady eyes seemed to turn... yellowish. He patted the arms of his sofa and cracked his neck in a sickly fashion. Each slow movement seemed to crack a different vertebrae all up and down his spine. The skin seemed to peel and flake off when he did that. "As long as I don't resist, I won't get hurt."

Rinoa's mouth went dry. She thought she was seeing things, as if his skin was shedding. "Y-.... Yes."

Deling gripped the arms tightly and then stood up. His spine seemed to collapse, and his body seemed to fall in two directions, yet remain perfectly intact in his skin. "What would you do, young lady---ooh!" He grunted on the "lady" part, and all of them gasped as huge chunks of skin peeled off his face and neck. He was shedding, and his spine had protruded out of his back. The suit he wore crumpled off like wet paper, and they saw his undershirt was meshed in blood, sweat, and pus. It looked like he was mutating.

Rinoa felt sick, and her legs felt queasy.

The President laughed wretchedly, the sound being almost inhuman. "Ha! There are so many fools hiding in these hick parts of this world. They all think that I'm the president. Ho-ho-ho! What an awesome gullibilty!" The imposter took a squelching step towards them, but he seemed to forget about his rapidly deteriorating stance. All the qualities that made up a human were rapidly decaying, as the facade he had held covered over his real organic body was fast dying away. This imposter looked to be one of the zombie stalwarts that inhabited the northern coastlines of Ithius whom preyed on merchant marines and cruise ships. A disgusting race of human/anthropod. "You pass along a little information about a certain so-and-so meeting somewhere at such-and-such time, and they fall for it. Every... single... time, ha! All the same. All.... pathetic!"

Squall pushed Rinoa away, and aimed his gunblade with one hand at the imposter. He pulled the trigger, and the magnum shell dislodged from the assembly. The silver-coated blade turned for a second into a gel-like ooze as the magnum shell warped the adamantine metal and sailed down the length. Reaching the sharp shiny point, its burst into a catastrophic speed of fire and blew the face off the zombie stalwart. The recoil was repulsive, and his hand went numb in the process. Hundreds of pieces of slimy flesh splattered the insides of the train cart as well as on themselves. The fake president's decapitated body flew like a rag doll against the couch, overturning it and collapsing against the corner of the cart. The shot was so loud, it deafened all of them for a full minute or two and shattered some of the windows and ceiling lights. The fiery magnum shell flaked off a thin skin of the silver metal blade, just as the Balamb propietor had said it would.

A deathly silence plagued them in their goo-covered state, and all of them looked at Squall in a sense of shock and dumbness. Watts and Zone flew out of the cart in a panicked state, but the other three stayed where they were. After Zell and Selphie cleaned their ears, they cheered at Squall and admired the gunblade he held. Rinoa was shellshocked not just from the concussionary blast but at the whole situation.

She was now forced to change her plans.

* * *

The Owls sadly unhooked their cart from the ruined presidential cart, reversed, and left the broken-down metal cart lying flimsily on the tracks. The Owls were disappointed, but the three members of SeeD were irritated. They felt like they had just endangered their lives for nothing but poor planning. It took a while to get all the nasty goo and pus off their clothes, but they managed to save their fabrics from total disrepair. Advised not to smoke cigarettes in the cart, Zell did it anyway since he felt like he earned the right to after being dragged into a hair-raising mission. He lit one up, and Selphie stayed around playing with the model trainset. They were all back in the conference room, and Rinoa was sitting in a fold-up chair in the corner completely agitated. Squall leaned against the blinds and was thinking about many things, not the least of all wondering what the hell the Headmaster had put into this contract he wrote with the Owls.

Zone and Watts were at first despondent, but since they were witnesses to the whole charade, they felt granted to appeal to the extraordinary fighting abilities of the SeeDs, and they ended up being the first cheerful speakers.

"That was fantastic, sir!" Watts exclaimed. "This event has shed a whole new light on the situation, sir. Oh, I bet there'll be much data to collect, sir." He paused, and his eyes seemed to glaze over at the intriguing thought of all that computer work.

"Hmm, yes, Watts," Zone acquiesced, "this does open up a whole new chapter to the story."

"About the scam we just witnessed?" Rinoa asked, stirring from her seething.

"Yes. Apparantly, the situation for the actual President is a lot more grimmer for him than we expected. He must have hundreds of these phonies lying around, giving him ample cover to quietly sneak into Timber, hatch up a little truce plan with Carroway or whomever, and then proceed to snuff us all out one by one. Why didn't I think of that, earlier?"

"I'll collect data, sir!" Watts cried pitifully.

Rinoa stood up, a small thinking smile forming on her lips. "That won't be necessary, Watts, we can think this through logically."

"Logically?" Zone pondered. "Yes. Logically. Suppose the President has an ulterior motive?"

"He could," she replied, "the man is a sneaky, pernicious ruler, he's bound to have something being plotted. Probably for him, he has tons of speechwriters."

"Four hundred by my count, sir!"

"Four hundred?" Zone commented, scratching his chin. "That seems a bit excessive."

Squall grunted, causing them to look. Zell covered for him though. "Are we involved in any of this?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Zell," Zone replied. "We were just musing."

Zell smiled at the formality and zoned out to a peaceful dream about himself.

"Still," Zone continued, "I can't believe we just fell for a phony back there. Watts, I thought that data said a clear **104** to the proxy's **34B**."

Watts tremored. "U-Uh.... the 104 w-w-was actually a... 105."

"Damnit, Watts! That's why we were duped!"

_Bullshit_, thought Squall. He rolled his eyes and took one of Zell's cigarettes from his pocket.

"It's OK," Rinoa cheered up, "even though we fell for it, we were more than a match for it, I say."

"Damn right!" Zone yelled, smacking his fists together. A stupid gesture on his part. "Who cares about the 105, or the 106, or whatever. We rocked this joint!"

While the other two Owls beamed, Squall looked at Zell and Selphie with the most confused look they had ever seen.

The conference door flew open, and the even sweatier-smelling engineer popped his head and tossed Watts a small envelope. "New info, y'all! New info!"

Watts quickly opened it with trembling fingers. His eyes scanned the small yellow paper inside like mad, and his mouth slowly opened to a full gape and remained there until he was done reading. "The president's got a **real** reason for coming here, sir! The TV station in the DeViller district, sir! Security is ultra tight. Tighter than ever, sir!"

Rinoa gave an odd look. "The TV station? To broadcast something?"

"Yes, the paper states he's bound to give a major speech to the continent. Presumably to the world, sir!"

Rinoa looked at Zone, who looked equally perplexed. "Why in Timber?" she asked, "Can't he easily broadcast at Galbadia Garden, or in Deling City for that matter?"

Zone shrugged his shoulders, and a perplexed and awkward silence fell among the Owls. Yet, Selphie almost burst out laughing. She waved her fingers in front of Squall's face to get his attention. "Hey, remember our Final Exam?"

Squall cocked an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"The communications tower."

"Ohhhh... that thing. Maybe that's the reason?" Zell asked, coughing on a strong puff.

Squall reasoned it was, and he felt the inquisitive stares from the Owls. Sighing, he leaned off the blinds and steadied himself by the trainset. "I suppose you all remember the big brouhaha with the Dollet Dukedom, right?"

The three Owls nodded grimly. Much of their coworkers had taken part in a missionary up there. Half of them had died.

"Well, our SeeD exam comprised that naval assault that ultimately wiped out a major force of ours."

All three of them gasped and started talking amongst themselves before paying attention again.

"Dollet's got a communication tower on a lonely stretch of uninhabited countryside at the entrance to a massive canyon. This particular tower had the capability to transmit and receive radio waves with the outside world. Galbadia wanted it so badly that it was willing to expend the lives of the entire Dollet citizenry to get it. They wiped out three-quarters of the population and secured the tower before we came across it. It wasn't our specific duty to come across it, but that's a matter best saved for personal memory." Zell and Selphie nodded in agreement. "The Galbadians cranked up the tower, and a satellite picked up the signal. So, now they're planning to send a message out to the world."

"Hmmm...." Zone wondered aloud.

Rinoa turned to him. "What is it?"

"Timber's the only secure city on this end of the continent with a TV station that can handle broadcasts over the air. My guess is they're using the Dollet Dukedom to send a beacon to the eastern and northern half of the world to send their message." He thought some more. "That's right! All other stations in Deling City and elsewhere use HD cable, which only supports online broadcasting. That reaches some, but not all people, since those residents of the Fisherman's Horizon and Winhill don't have HD accessibilty."

She tapped her foot, irritably. "So, what does that mean?"

"Well, they're planning on using radio waves to send a message."

She slapped him upside the head. "I know that! What's the president going to broadcast?! Why use radio waves, HD cable, or anything? What could that scumbag possibly have anything to say to defend himself or.... or... what?!"

"Ooh!!" Selphie shouted gleefully. "Love and peace for his fellow man!"

Zell snickered, and the three Owls tried to hide their shock. Zone took a minute to shrug that off before saying, "If I remember correctly, radio waves haven't been used in seventeen years. They were a product of the great lost city of Esthar, and a trend that was to be followed by the rest of the world until that city disappeared."

"That long, huh?" Rinoa said. "Wow. Wouldn't it be wonderful if the first ever modern broadcast was of Timber's independence?"

Zone got excited again, and this time both he and Watts smacked their fists together. "Damn right! We should come up with a plan right away." With that, the three Owls hunkered down on the floor and started talking in low whispers.

Squall couldn't believe what he was seeing. This entire operation was a sham and a pointless, irresponsible chivalric move by Headmaster Cid. He looked at Selphie and Zell, and he noticed that they were equally dumbfounded. They, however, looked to him to make the first move, and he bitterly wished to not have that exclusive right. He took his time, though, and watched the three Owls collaborate about things and such-and-suches. Once their voices got real loud, and he thought they were talking about foxes, for which he hadn't a damn clue what that had anything to do with, until he realized they were talking about another resistance group. Unfortunately, though, he didn't think they were actually coming up with another _foolproof_ plan. Sighing, he stepped up to them, and Rinoa cheerfully looked at him with her sparkling eyes. "Yea! We've come up with a plan."

Squall seriously doubted that and shook his head. "Do you still have that contract Cid gave you?"

His tone of voice sent the sparkle away from her eyes, and she glumly replied, "Yes, actually, I've got one."

_One?_

She handed him a piece of paper, which he took roughly from her hand. Zell and Selphie came up behind and looked over his shoulder. The paper read: _Balamb Garden, hereby referred to as Party A, acknowledges the Forest Owls, hereby referred to as Party B, as the hiring party. SeeD, hereby referred to as Party C, shall be dispatched upon the signing of this contract. Party C shall operate under the supervision of...._ "This is complete jargon bullshit," Squall complained. His partners nodded in agreement, and Zell was scratching his head in confusion.

Rinoa looked at the paper she had given Squall and blushed. "Whoops, that's the wrong one. He gave that one to me first as a little joke or something, and when I told him I didn't understand he gave me this other one." She took the first paper and handed Squall the second. "Cid is such a nice man. I can't stress that enough."

"What's it say this time?" Selphie inquired.

The reading was more comprehensible, Squall admitted, but he was still a bit skeptical. It read: _To the Forest Owls, this SeeD deployment contract will last until Timber achieves its independence. Please make good use of each SeeD member. I wish you the best with your objective. Please understand that this contract is an exception, and no replacement of any SeeD members can be made. Sincerely, Balamb Garden Headmaster Cid Kramer._ A direct order to stay until pending further notice. Squall immediately had conflicting thoughts, and none of them were approvable. For one, he was forced to stay in a klutzy-ass group like this one, and that bothered him alot. On the other, he enjoyed such strict orders as these, for there was no alternative doohickey flustering the project up. It was an absolute direct order. Unfortunately.... it was with these people.

Zell and Selphie were less amused and rightfully so. "Until Timber's independence?" Zell asked.

"That's soooo vague!" Selphie remarked.

Rinoa stood up, straightened her dress up, and looked at them as sternly as she could. "You're paid professionals, no need to complain."

Squall fluttered the contract onto the trainset table, and sighed. "You're right. We're paid professionals. Now what?"

She smiled again. "We decide on the parties to go to the TV station."

Watts looked at them quickly and need not say another word. He knew his place, and he left immediately. Zone looked at Rinoa who looked at him, and he slowly walked out of the conference room without saying a word.

Rinoa looked at Squall. "Well, I guess it's just us four again." She watched them slowly acknowledge that and then continued, "They'll have likely shut all the train systems down after our little escapade, but we can still get their on foot." She looked hesitantly at her bowgun. "I guess we'll need to be armed in the process."

Squall snorted. "Now, you're thinking like us."

* * *

The small coal city was on high alert. The real President had just arrived through the back entrance by an armed convoy and had taxiied discretely towards the fortified TV station. Galbadian special forces guarded the compound while the regular military grunts patrolled the streets. A stricter curfew now blanketed the city the likes of which the one that occurred two decades prior could only dream of being. All the shops, save the large pub in the center, were closed up for the entire evening. The pub was left open as a safe conduit hub for any such protestors of the President's appearance-- which just happened to be situated a few miles from the TV station to give a safe berth for Vinzer. The Owls parked their train outside the city gates and dropped off the SeeDs and Rinoa right there. Zone pledged to keep his father's oath and taxiied his train to a safer niche in the countryside until further notice.

Squall gave a quick scan over the city from their position. The train had stopped them upon a hill, and they were able to look down and view the city with an eagle's eye. Blue and red suits with machine guns and sabres brandished at the ready were crawling all over the city, but there were no drones or aerial gunners flying around to their surprise. He didn't want to chance any risks, but from his scanning he felt reasonably certain that grunts were the only things to avoid.

Selphie was the least bit certain about the situation. "Can we really sneak in there past all them?"

Squall checked his sword. It still had gook from that zombie creature's flesh caked on it. "The only thing to do."

"If we stay out in the open, we'll cause too much of a commotion," Zell bluntly pointed out.

"Right," Rinoa said, "but there are many back alleyways that Galbadia doesn't know about. We'll use those to hide in." She scanned the city as well, thinking up a route, before pointing to the northern edge of the city. "We'll climb the wall there, skirt the back end of the border, come up through the train station, dodge into the hotel, sneak out the back door, and head into the western end of the TV station. That seems liable to work."

Zell and Selphie slowly nodded their heads, but Squall didn't bite. "No, we'll get shot as soon as we skirt that back wall."

"What?!"

He directed her gaze to the northern breach. "They _do_ have a small drone back there. I thought they wouldn't have, but it's camoflauged so I was fooled. It's floating just slightly against that retainer wall over there with a direct view of that northwestern entrance you were talking about. Plus, if the trains have been stalled due to our little mission, there'll be guards all over that place." He squinted harder. "Plus, that hotel you're talking about is right _next_ to the damn train station! What, are they just going to leave that place unattended so we can just waltz right in and out the back door?"

"Well, damn, Squall what do you have to offer?!" Rinoa pouted, her hazel brown eyes flaming. Zell tried to hide a snicker.

"Well, certainly nothing that'll kill us in the first two minutes."

She gave a disgusted sigh and looked at her blue bowgun on her wrist. "I really don't want to use this if that's what you have in your mind."

Squall found that odd. "You're a pretty good shot, to say the least."

"I'm a damn good shot, but I don't like to use it!"

"What's the plan, man?" Zell asked, getting antsy and squirming around on the ground like a worm.

Squall pointed to the south at a dumpy old shack with a decaying wall connecting to an abandoned and dishelved park in the city's southeastern side. "Sneak quietly in there and through the park. The guards for some reason are patrolling a set pattern from the northeast where the TV place is down through the center to the southwest and back again. There's a drone in the northwest, but not one in the southeast, which is odd but perfect for us. Once we clear the park, we'll time our route to their patrol and then sneak into that... weird funky building on the flush eastern wall."

"Timber Maniacs?" Rinoa asked.

"Is that what it's called?"

"Yeah, it's this continent's most influential news bureau, though I think it's rather tacky inside. They do publish stuff for our resistance movements, and that's created a little rift with the government."

"Well, we should take our chances. That building stretches in an L-shape around to the west, and then we could use the criss-crossing alleyways to get to the pub. Walk through the pub and out the back door, and then we hit the western side of the TV station."

"Hm. Nice," Zell remarked, with Selphie nodding more in agreement than at Rinoa's plan.

The pinkish-skinned harlot pouted some more. "I guess that's a better plan."

He stood to his feet. "Path of least resistance. There looks to be thirty or so guards roaming around, so we'll have to tread lightly but quickly." They all rose up and headed for the dilapidated shack. There was a swift breeze blowing that lowered the humidity plaguing that forest countryside and cooled down their skin. The coal factory in the distance had stopped production for the day out of an absurd mark of respect for the dictator/president, causing a temporary blackout to permeate the city of Timber. It would be restored by the end of the day, but this incident was supposed to mark an important message that Mr. Deling was preparing to give. The poor city of Timber was now undergoing major financial and economic problems within the recent weeks from onslaughts by the Galbadian and Deling governments. Rumors had it, though, that it was pretty much Galbadia that was pulling the strings of the troubles, and this evening's new address taking place upon that famous radio wave signal was going to address that rift.

Trouble could only come of this, and SeeD was prepared to tackle it, or so they thought.

The shack was indeed an entryway into the park, and they carefully stepped over a sleeping drunken homeless man and treaded lightly into the glass-strewn and burnt-out park. The name of it on the cracked-up sign had been smeared off, and Rinoa herself was unsure of what it was called. Eighteen years ago, during the bombing raids, the entire southeastern side of Timber had been shelled causing collatoral damage and economic woe to this section of the continent. The quality of life had dipped steeply negative, yet most of the citizens could not afford to pack up and leave unless Galbadian eminent domain laws forced them to leave. This ruined park was once the highlight of the city and beautiful beyond belief. The only species of creature still inhabiting it were crows who would live in any dump. Diablos would find this park to be delightful.

Squall signalled the others to keep especially quiet for a six-man patrol was walking along the northwestern edge of the gated park. The gates were barb-wired fences, but large and overgrown shrubbery hid wide patches of the fence, and the soldiers weren't even paying attention to the crows and homeless in the park. Their eyes were averted to the north or east, and they missed the four walking slowly beside them under cover. The Timber Maniacs building was several yards further up a beaten and dusty cobblestone path that hadn't seen repair acquisitions in two decades. The L-shaped building was three stories tall and perpendicularly cut the path off, so that the soldiers split into two groups of three and went around the building to the TV station. Squall looked further south down the dusty path and caught sight of guards heading west towards the train station. The coast was semi-clear and he motioned them to hurry. They darted out of the park with their feet kicking up dirt and crouched by the dumpsters along the side of the building. Scanning to and fro, they slowly walked the length of the L and hit the entrance to the news building. The door was locked, as Squall thought it would be. Zell covered his watch, and Squall rammed the butt of his gunblade hard on the doorknob breaking it open, and they quickly rushed inside. Squall jimmied the knob back in place, as best as he could and closed the door softly but quickly.

Timber Maniacs was a grim-looking building that needed as serious repairs as its outside exterior needed. The paint was scratching off, the floorboards were coming apart, and the inventory of books and magazines on the first floor were lying everywhere in an unorganized heap. Squall thought that at least the editor should make it look decent inside at least. They treaded quietly down the hallways, until they heard a loud noise from the area where they had entered. The door was flung open, and they heard two sets of footsteps enter. A radio comlink buzzed, and Squall cursed inside. _Not gonna be easy, now_.

"Echo fourteen, do you copy," one of the soldiers responded. Zell and Squall poked their heads out slightly behind a corner and noticed briefly two Galbadian soldiers walking across the southern corner. One had a machine gun out by his hip with a flashlight attached, and the other had a long sabre out and the comlink up to his mouth. "Echo fourteen, do you copy?"

"Copy, Blue Two."

"Echo fourteen, I'm checking out a possible infiltration in Sector Twelve, over."

"Anything to worry about, Blue?"

"Negative. Not at this moment."

"Keep us informed, then, over."

Squall scratched his chin hard and motioned for the two girls to hunker over closer to the exit in the darkened corner. Zell followed his lead and darted swiftly over to the opposite wall. The flashlight followed the flash of his movement, and the soldier told the other to pick up the pace. The two of them walked swiftly around the corners, and the radio guard took the lead brandishing his sabre out to deliver a quick head chop. He thought he found the spot where Zell was hiding, and he jumped out and slashed with his sword. He hit the wall instead, and the clang rang out loud in the building's acoustics. He cursed, but that was all he could do for Zell's foot smashed into his nose and the radio dropped from his hands onto the floor. Zell smashed the radio with his other foot, and the machine gun guard went over to help. The click-click sound of Squall's gunblade stopped him, and the soldier dropped his weapon. Squall flipped the blade around and used the butt to break the break the soldier's jaw in two. Both of the guards fell in a crumpled heap, and the two SeeDs picked them up and went over to the exit. The two girls watched them carefully open the door and then dump the incapacitated bodies into the closest dumpster.

Selphie was all smiles, but Rinoa was having second thoughts buzz through her head. Maybe it was poor planning on her part, but she thought SeeD had been taking the more violent approach on seemingly everything they did. She was at a loss of words.

Zell bumped Squall's shoulder. "Nice thinking, leader."

The gunblader shrugged. "The pub's a few blocks from here. We needn't waste time." They scanned the area again, found it empty, and ran through the closest narrow alleyway. At least the main cobblestone thoroughfare was decently walkable-- these back alleyways were not. Raw sewage ran through some of them, and all four plugged their noses as best they could; unfortunately, it was impossible to block. The residences were two to four stories tall and were basically massive tenements for the working class and poor people. Most of the coal workers lived here, and most of the city maintenance people who could manage to find work lived here. Old, tatthered clotheslines draped in a lazy arc across the walkway with dirty, fly-ridden shirts and pants and bras hanging loosely on it. Mucky water hauled up in wrinkled bunches dripped slowly and sickly down to the ground. As they passed by some of the windows that were not boarded up, they saw the wary eyes of the citizens inside them slowly watching them with keen intuition. They went through five such dank alleyways before they heard mocking verbal tirades coming out of some Galbadian officers. They crouched low and peered over some decaying walls to see a group of armed officers harassing a few of Timber's security patrol who were merely guarding the eastern entrance to the city. The tirades were getting shrill between them.

Rinoa's body began to tremble at the sight of her people being verbally tortued, but Squall and the others suppressed her from doing something stupid.

One of the officers was losing his cool fast. He grabbed the collar of the closest Timber guard, who happened to be the city's lead officer, and got right into his face. "Do you know who you're fucking dealing with, buddy?!"

The Timber officer was trying to remain calm, but anxiety was kicking in. All he had was an old revolver, and his subordinates only had little .45 pistols. These enemies were carrying assault rifles and sawn-off shotguns. "Timber is a good place to live in, sir. You should take the time to appreciate it."

The officer spat in the Timber guard's eye. "A good place to live, huh? I've seen better places in Ithius where the two-dollar whores are nicer in appearance! This 'good place' is a haven for terrorists, you filthy coalfuck." He took the officer's revolver and jammed the butt against his temple, reeling the poor officer onto his back. Blood came out his nose and right ear, yet the Galbadian officer-- to his partners' delight-- brought him to his feet again and bashed his temple in the same place again. He did it five times, before the Timber officer's head was a smashed-in soda bottle, and then he spat on the dead carcass. Leering at the other three Timber guards, he pointed the revolver at each of them. "Your superior is dead, and you three will be next, if one resistance member gets inside the walls of this city. There's no sense in explaining to you pigfuckers why we kind-hearted soldiers barricaded your city, now is there?"

The three Timber guards remained silent, but one of them was becoming furious.

The lead Galbadian officer continued to exploit. "We wouldn't block you from control, if you only relented. What the bloody fuck is wrong with your lot?!! Just imagine the endless commercial success this backwoods piece of shitfuck city could be if you were loyal to us."

The angry Timber guard sucked in breath and then released. "We don't need the glory of your kind. Are you so content with yourself, blindly following orders that you may or may not truly believe in? Being an undeveloped city has given us a whole new perspective on life. Nothing can change the nature of the coal production that we employ, nor the smooth commercial success we had always had before you Galbadian swine invaded our country and enslaved us in our own city. We perceive and hold dear our own dignity and humanity. We will never purge it like what you have done to your own."

The Galbadian officers swapped their grins for large frowns, and the lead officer looked at the outspoken Timber guard and did not say a word. Cocking the revolver, he pointed it at the guard's face and blew all the features of it off into a wet, sloppy goo. The melted and warped head flew off and hit a lamppost, and the body crumpled to the ground. The officer blew five more holes into the distilled body and revelled in the splattered mass of gore.

The remaining Timber guards cowered on their knees, and the Galbadians attempted to handcuff them. Rage infused the SeeDs and Rinoa, and before they could stop themselves Selphie immediately jumped up and swung her nunchaku into the back of one of the guards knocking him out cold against a trash can. The other six officers turned sharply around and found both Squall and Zell rushing at them. Zell's fists met two chins consecutively, before he spun in a deadly circle in the air and brought the heel of his right foot square in the neck of a third guard. The three sober officers managed to get their assault rifles cocked, but Squall's Shear Trigger severed off the gunarm of one of them and slashed a second one twice across the rib cage and stomach. The third officer fired a round of bullets at the gunblader who shielded himself with a quick small gray shield that Diablos had imbued its gray GF gem. The bullets ricocheted off the shield and hit walls, the dusty floor, and the skin of the Galbadian officers. Rinoa fired a dart from her bowgun that plunged itself into the lower back of the officer, and he reeled. Selphie swung her nunchuck straight into the exposed throat, and it was lights out for him.

The seven incapacitated or dead officers lay where they once stood, and the two Timber guards looked up sheepishly at their interlopers and smiled at the sight of Rinoa. They slowly rose up, gave her a hug, and sheepishly shook Squall's hand. "Thank you, sir and Miss Rinoa, we got a little carried away."

"No, you didn't," she said, "I wish we could've been a little faster. I wasn't expecting all that to happen."

"This... this is an everyday occurrence, my dear. Every day, we either live to see a new one, we either die on our duty, or we either go off to the D Prison."

Rinoa bit her lip.

One of the guards pointed to a northern alleyway. "I assume you're going up to the TV station? Head up there, the special forces are not using the southern staircase. There aren't too many of them around the peripheral edge. Be quick, though, because I think the President's about to get on the air."

"Thank you, sir," she said. Looking at Squall, she saw him nod and the four of them left the bloody mess there. The sounds of the battle had been kept far away from the main throng of Galbadian troops, for the officers had been brazen enough to cut their support units away out of sheer overconfidence and underestimation of the resistance movements. They wound their way through the narrow alleyway that was slightly maintained better than the previous detours, and they found the staircase leading up to the vast conglomeration known as the TV station.

* * *

The building was the largest of the city, even larger than the coal factory. Nine stories tall, it encompassed the main financial and administration center and was the site of high-profile meetings with world leaders and international media moguls. The TV station had a much more formal name, but nobody in Timber knew what it was or cared to know, since this particular building's activities gave nothing of appreciative value to the citizens at all. Constructed fifteen years ago as a proclaimed "more efficient and adaptable means of international and national communication" was entirely costly at taxpayer expense and entirely constructed on the backs of the poor. The building had a labor body count numbering close to four hundred and lacked anything related to worker's compensation.

Ten years ago, a large telescreen was constructed on the southern wall to give a face and a voice for propagandistic messaging to spread out to the citizens of Timber. During the decade, repeated attempts to utilize it had all but succeeded, yet it seems now that the authorities had gotten the bugs together. At precisely 1800 hours, a national and international broadcast on radio waves would begin, and everybody in Timber would be peering out their windows-- which all conviently faced the large telescreen-- and viewing the marvellous visage of Vinzer Deling spouting his speech.

There were no guards or special forces patrolling this area, and the four intruders relaxed their breathing but still kept their weapons out at the ready. They slowly climbed the long staircase and heard the progressively loud scratching and screeching of the radio waves bustling on the telescreen. Anxiety was actually tearing at them a little bit.

Selphie was the first to let loose some ecstacy. The view from above and the telescreen itself was something to be ecstatic about, yet she kept herself from exposing their position just in case any guards should happen to look up and see them. "Finally, a breather!" She sat down on the iron-coated walkway and looked out between the grafts of the railing at the grayness of the city. The lonliness of it from above stung her heart a bit, and she forced herself to look away and at the screen. "An outdoor TV, huh?"

"It's _really_ creepy," Rinoa said, crossing her arms and scrunching up her nose.

Squall grunted, and they looked at him. "There's too much white noise on this thing. They've gotta fix this, before they let loose their broadcast."

"Totally!" Selphie squealed. "On to the love and peace, right?"

"Yeah, right," Zell chided lighting another cigarette up and expelling the smoke with a grunt.

"I think that would be a totally sweet message. It would really cheer a lot of people up!"

A noise sounded behind them on a lower level of the stairs, and Squall cocked the chamber of his gun assembly only to find a breathless Watts come racing up the steps. "Oh! There you are, sir!! Glad to see you made it inside, sir!"

"How did you get in here?" Squall asked.

"Went the same way you did, sir, southeast, north, east, and north again. Bloody mess you made down there, sir, _blood-y!_"

"What is it?"

"The President's in the studio now, sir! Security is uber-tight, sir, we won't be able to storm the place." He left panting once more down the steps to his undisclosed location.

They watched him go, before Rinoa sighed impatiently. "We can't just rush in, eh? Figures." She put her hands on her hips and arched her back. "We've gotta come up with a new plan now."

Squall flinched, and Zell and Selphie knew instinctively that the gunblader was getting irritated. The tattoed martial artist snuffed out his cigarette and attempted to savor the moment.

Rinoa scratched the back of her head. "Maybe we can wait until the President is done speaking. Then, when he leaves the studio, the guards'll be distracted, and then we can ambush him in his dressing quarters and interrogate him. We'll knock him out, commandeer the studio, and make our own broadcast. Not really too influential, but better than nothing, right?" She had a small smile before she looked at Squall's perplexed expression, and then she frowned again. "We don't stand a chance if we rush headlong in, right?"

Squall slowly shook his head. "You Timber people might not, but we certainly can." He stopped her remark with a wave of his hand. "We'll fight your enemies based on your decision. That was what we were trained to do, and that ultimately is our duty." Satisfied, he turned from her and leaned against the railing. With that attitude, he was eighty percent ready to storm the building and actually assassinate the President. The other twenty percent was reserved to cleaning the shaft of his gunblade first before proceeding into the assassination.

Rinoa, however, was not satisfied. "My decision. _Act_... on _my_.... decision?"

Squall didn't even look at her.

"Act on my decision? That's your duty! How sad, how very, very, sad. It must be a very easy life to take one order after the other. No consequences at _all_ for your actions."

Squall shrugged. "Our duty is our duty. Call it what you want. All we want is for you to achieve your goal using our help." He laughed, for the first time in a while. The thought really cracked him up. "Heh, you wouldn't succeed anyway, though."

This time she flinched, and her eyes sparked fiercely. "If you've got something to say, don't hold it back!"

"Damn fucking right, I do!!" His voice raised to a higher tempo and he slammed the rickety railing which sent an uneasy vibration across the entire staircase. "How fucking serious are you Owls anyway?! The so-called 'plans' you three have given us having been nothing but failed moronic ideas. You plop on the floor, because your organizational skills didn't call for the use of chairs, and you discuss strategy that involves a lot of fist-pumping jingoism about how great this coal dump of a city is and how godawful bad Galbadia is. I can tell the difference clear as day between the two cities, and I can tell that both of them have some serious upsides and downsides! There is a lot of bad shit going down right now that calls for a competent resistance movement and a competent overhaul of the entire system! Yet, you Owls cannot seem to be entirely one hundred percent capable of achieving your goal without an advanced military apparatus that rivals the likes of Galbadia! How do you think we feel working for something like that?!!" His voice gave out briefly, and he turned to the view he had previously been engaged with.

Zell looked away, as did Selphie. Rinoa cringed from the anger, and her knees started quaking. Her hand balled into a fist several times, but she kept releasing it in defeat. What he said had hit her like a ton of bricks, and she hated every bit of it. Yet, she knew that it was all true, and that thought tore her heart apart. She refused to say anything causing a maddeningly awkward silence to develop between the four of them.

Squall remained silent for several minutes, even though their eyes were on his back. The blood had rushed up to his head, and he felt a little dizzy. She was pretty but pretty simple-minded too. He didn't feel really good, though, deep inside. "Sorry, Rinoa. I got a little carried away."

She looked away and over at the foot of the staircase. "I guess this was all a big mistake. I'd thought everything would work out fine once SeeD came to help us. I guess it wasn't that easy, though." Her pained voice caused him to turn towards her, yet he didn't reply. She continued, ignoring his look. "You were all hired as a third party, so it's not like you're one of us." She gave a sigh to reassure herself and addressed all three of them. "We'll cancel the plan and disperse for now. We don't stand a chance if we take him head-on, or at least I don't have the stomach to." She sighed again. "You might think this is a game to us, but it's not. We're serious." She tried to give a stern look, but failed. She turned and headed down the stairs.

They watched her leave, and Squall huffed a little and turned towards the telescreen. Zell lit another cigarette and lost himself in his thoughts. Selphie came up to Squall's side and tapped him on the shoulder. "Think you were a little too harsh?"

"No, not at all."

"Why?"

"This is none of our business." He gave no indication of saying anything more.

She sighed and looked back across the railing. Noise behind her alerted her sight to the telescreen and an image was fighting to get through. "Oh! Something's coming!"

"Yeah," Zell said, "what is it?"

"It looks like the studio," Squall remarked.

* * *

Inside the TV station, called inadvertantly by the corporate press News Corp News, boom grip boys messed around with the wires and worked out the kinks of the cameras and came to the realization that a connection was occuring. They looked on the monitor and indeed saw a green light and gave a thumbs-up.

A fat man in a bright purple pinstripe suit strode toward the podium that was draped in the flag of Galbadia. Half a dozen microphones with the insignias of all the great nations of the world lay at the head of the podium, and behind it on a wall lay the flags of Timber, Galbadia, and Deling for a show of comraderie and patriotism, although everybody knew that only one of those flags truly mattered. The fat pompous prick of a suit cleared his jowly throat and spoke heavily into the microphone. "Ahem!" The sound was too loud, and the boom boys hastily fixed it. "Ahem, testing 1-2, testing 1-2!! Wow!!!" He already knew, but the fat man loved histrionics. "WOW!!! Oh, people of the world!! Can you see me? Can you hear me?!! Oh my, praise Eden!" He did the ritual of praise to the High God. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a recording!! This is actual, live broadcast feed over the air! Yes, it has been seventeen years since the last live broadcast, my glorious citizens!!" He noticed a finger twirling in the distance. "Oh! Please excuse me, I've... seemed to have lost my composure." Doing a nervous laugh, he played with his tie as he spoke. "Ladies and gentlemen of Timber and from around the world, please give a warm welcome to the glorious President Vinzer Deling!!!"

He stepped clumsily off the stage, frantically shook the President's hand, and got off very quickly. The band in the background broke into the _Cactus Jack_ theme song of Galbadia. The long tradition of all administrations and military dictatorships had used this triumphant-sounding song to show off their prestigious valor for all the world to see. Rivalled only by Esthar's _Silence and Motion_, Galbadia was the world's most dominant force.

The President was the same image as the imposter, yet this was for sure the real one. He knew so himself. One who knew better could tell he was the real one by the unusual tattoo he possessed. A birth defect had branded him a spiral tattoo in the pupil of his right eye that one had to look up close to see directly. No technology in the world could duplicate that, but no one really took the time to admire the ugly visage of the man long enough to catch the mark. So, the President was fluent in escaping and hiding behind imposters that could be picked up anywhere around the world. He strode up to the podium in a crinkled suit as always and gripped the edges of the podium as if he were having a heart attack.

"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen of the world. I am Vinzer Deling, former President of the great country of Galbadia, now current president-for-life of the Western Continent!"

Outside the complex, the three SeeDs looked at each other stunned.

Deling continued. "Do not be alarmed nor surprised, my fellow citizens! There is nothing to be anxious about at all. The great countries of Galbadia and Deling have had many wonderful relationships in the past. Many, many wonderful relationships. General Rafeal Carroway of Deling City is an extraordinary man with wonderful eloquence and demeanor. He's now a fellow member of my new Cabinet, in charge of preserving the order of our citizens and coordinating with the Galbadian military to keep peace and stability within this landmass. The new capital of Galbadia is now centered in Deling City and will forever be the world's premeire beacon of hope and peace. Nothing audacious or grandiose. This is the symbol of reality and common knowledge, my friends.

"Let's not forget the common bonds we share with _all_ of our friends, even when times were in turmoil. I've mentioned the brilliance of Deling City, have I not also mentioned the brilliance of the Dollet Dukedom. We all know the recent six-day war waged there, when the dreadful Balamb forces came to squash peace with their terrorist acts. But the Duke has been reinstated, and we have agreed to use their communications network to spread our message of hope and peace to everyone and every_thing_!! Down in the south, we have Winhill and Timber and Kelso and the Badlands. All of these wonderful, wonderful towns and cities have seen terrorist factions within them trying to eat their way out from the inside totally destroying the foundations of hope and peace along with them. They're a virus that has been almost eradicated, my friends, almost eradicated. I want to extend my hand in appreciation to the patriots of this land who have offered up resistance members to be executed or detained for life in my wonderful desert paradise (sic). I thank you kindly from my adoring heart.

"The hour is late in the day, my friends, so I must give you my proposition. This world has seen war after war after war. Against humans and nonhumans alike. Children do not remember the horrors of decades past, but we adults do. Make no mistake. Make no pretentions. We, the fine citizens of Westonia-- as I have declared this supreme continent to be-- we the fine citizens of Westonia will do _everything_ we can to end all wars. No more bloodshed. No more heartache. No more fathers cradling their dead sons to their breast. No more daughters seeing their mothers raped and beheaded before their eyes. NO MORE TERRORISM.

"But, unfortunately, Westonia is threatened, my friends. Threatened by other nations. Nations like the bumbling fools of Trabia, the sex dens of Ithius, the military lands of Balamb, and the most troublesome of them all the elusive den of evil that is Esthar. These must be resolved in the smoothest way possible. I plan to initiate an agreement called the Westonia Patriot Act that will ensure the safety of Westonia's citizens from undue outside influence. I also plan to coordinate...." A movement in the background and a flash of light paused him a little, but he continued, "I also plan to coordinate a meeting between these defying nations in an effort to extend the warm friendly Westonian hand of hope... and peace. I have found the best candidate this world has to offer to be my ambassador to the conference. She is of the utmost intellect and mindset that rivals anything on this planet. She is the Sorceress E---"

He was cut off. The microphone's cord link was slashed. Before he could shout in time, he witnessed a tall cloaked man whip a gunblade and decapitate the entire studio crew. Blood splattered every wall, the floor, and the ceiling. The camera fell and fizzled on the floor, but before it went out, the SeeDs saw that it was Seifer Almasy that infiltrated the complex.

The telescreen went back to white noise, and klaxons rang outside. "Goddamit, Seifer!!" Squall shouted enraged.

Zell stomped his cigarette out. "The fucks going on, Squall!"

"I don't know, but let's go!" They followed him up the next ramp and entered the studio complex. The doorway led to a slumped, dying crewmember with a huge gash in his stomach. His organs were exposed and his eyes were dripping with blood. Four dead men and women, and another dying crewmember lay sprawled around the ground. Blood soaked everything.

A tussle was happening in the main room, and a familiar feminine voice was shouting defeatedly at a harsher-sounding masculine voice. They turned the corner and found Quistis talking to a defiant Seifer who had the president in a chokehold and Hyperion grazing his throat.

The rest of the room was blood, and the three of them saw the SeeDs enter and stopped their shouting. Squall cocked a magnum shell in his blade and advanced forward. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Seifer?!"

"Squall, please," Quistis pleaded, "we have to restrain him. Violence won't do any good!"

"Fuck that shit. He's not going to pull something even more stupid than he's already done."

Seifer snorted. "You're a callous figure, Squall. That's a damn good nasty side of you." He flicked the blade harder into the President's throat causing blood to run. "As to what I'm doing? Let me ask, what are you planning to do with this guy?"

"Planning to do?" The question was absurd, but something fired in the back of his mind. _He knows Rinoa, and he introduced her to Cid. Is.... is that why he's here--_ He noticed Zell getting antsy.

The tattooed guy was shaking with anger but a fake sense of coolness had swept him, and he had to speak. "You're Rinoa's---"

Seifer suppresed Deling's shoulder with his left hand and aimed Hyperion with his right hand at Zell. "Shut your fucking mouth, Chicken-wuss!!!"

Zell saw rage floating in Seifer's eyes, and he temporarily backed down, although his shaking increased.

Quistis shook herself, and she tried to address Squall in a calm voice. "He broke out of the disciplinary room, killing one of the Guardians."

Squall dislodged the shell and gave a collected sigh of depression. Anger, though, flooded him again, for he saw Zell pumping.

"You fucking idiot!!" the boy screamed, "Instructor, I know! You're going to take this idiot back to Garden, rig---"

"Shut up, Zell!!" Squall shouted, punching him square in the shoulder.

"Garden?" Vinzer Deling spoke up, sounding relieved. "Ah, Balamb Garden. I knew it would be it. Should anything happen to me, you fool, the entire Galbadian military will annihilate that puny island. They will sink it down to its rightful watery grave." With his left hand, he poked the dejected Seifer's shoulder. "You can let me go of me now, sir."

Seifer brought Hyperion back to Deling's throat and gripped him tighter. "Shut up you fat fuck. Nice going, Chicken-wuss. What other harmless shit do you have in your fucking bag of tricks?" He managed a slight smile at Zell's crestfallen face. "Take care of this mess, Instructor and Mr. Leader!" He sneered at Squall's title and slowly dragged the President with him to a back room. Squall immediately followed him, but very slowly. Quistis and Selphie followed him as well as the trailing Zell. The hallway snaked around the back and opened up to a small room with a dais in the center.

Seifer backed up onto the dais with the President still with him, and the four SeeDs stopped at the entrance to the room. A tense standoff occurred then, neither side relenting.

Suddenly, the air conditioner malfunctioned, the room's acoustics whacked out, and a thin purple void enveloped the dais. The SeeDs felt their bodies slowed down, and eventually they saw nothing but grayness. Inside the dais, the purple void had created a natural wall around Seifer and the President and a low humming sound had started. Deling knew what it was, and Seifer had a vague impression. He let the President go, and the fat scum immediately left the void and escaped to his convoy for Deling City.

Seifer stood there with Hyperion by his side and did not look at the new visitor that stood right behind him.

"Poor, poor boy." The voice was feminine but chilling.

The hair stood up on the back of his neck. "Stay away from me."

"Awwww..." the woman laughed, and the sound was brutal but mesmerizing, "such a poor confused little boy, you are."

He shuddered but remained where he stood.

"You have to decide what it is you're going to do, poor boy."

"Stay back!" He gave a limp, useless swipe of his sword.

"Awwww.... the boy in you is telling you to come. The adult in you is telling you to stay. You cannot make up your mind. You don't know the right answer." She touched his shoulder, and he all but dropped his sword at the relaxing touch. She spun him around to look at her, and he was shocked at the sight of the hideous but alluring red mask on her face. She had an hourglass figure and brown hair, but that was all he knew. The mask told him everything. She smoothed his cheek with the back of her hand and played with his mouth and nose, enveloping him with the most tranquility he had ever before encountered. Even more than with _her_. She kept a hand on his cheek. "You want help, don't you? You want to be saved from this predicament."

"Shut up." His voice was weak, and he made no attempt at rejecting her tender touches.

"Don't be ashamed to ask for help. Remember, you are still just a little boy."

"I-I'm n-not. Stop calling me that."

She seemed slightly confused, and she took her hand away walking away from him. "You don't want to be a little boy anymore?"

"I'm--" He sighed, and straightened up.

"I can take you to a place of no return. Bid farewell to your childhood." She opened the void, and he saw the motionless bodies of Quistis, Squall, Zell, and Selphie, and he smiled wickedly. These Balamb Garden fools were no more for him. He took his sword and waved at them, before walking into the portal the woman had come from. She followed him and lifted the suppression as she did.

The room returned to normal, and the SeeDs awoke from their state. They saw no traces of Seifer or the President.

Squall smashed his fist against the wall and cursed as loud as he possibly could.


	8. Another Dream

_Questions unanswered,_

_Working with the enemy,_

_Plagued again by dreams_

The four of them stood on the ninth floor of the outside staircase with the large telescreen playing white noise in the background. It was approaching midnight, and they had not moved from their eagle-eye position for several hours. Things had taken a turn for the worst. None of them wished to acknowledge it, though, and they instead felt comfort in watching from afar the hordes of Galbadian troops convene to depart the city. Off in the distance, a heavily-guarded carriage transporting the new continent commander off to Deling City was eschewing out of the southern gates. A couple patrols remained along the busiest thoroughfare, but they were the expected keepers of the peace and obliged most humbly to stay and watch over the mal-doer resistance groups.

Their ears picked up light tapping on the stairs followed by panting sounds, and they looked to find Rinoa's dog Angelo pattering up to meet them, a dumb smiling expression on his face. His fur glistened in the murky haze of Timber, which felt oddly comforting at this present point.

Selphie grew ecstatic and bent immediately to pet him behind the ears. They all looked up to hear additional footsteps and to see Rinoa herself emerge from the staircase. She looked a little flushed. "Angie always gets carried away like that."

Squall and Rinoa eyed each other momentarily and then averted their gaze. Quistis looked at her compatriots and then at this newcomer and then scratched the back of her head. "Who is this?" she asked Squall.

"Rinoa Heartilly," he answered glumly, "she's the main speaker for the Forest Owls."

"Oh, for the half-completed mission."

"Fifty percent is always good," Rinoa answered cheerfully. Yet her voice and face fell sharply when she recalled what just happened. "The whole city's in shock. Not just what the President said, but by what happened afterwards."

Selphie looked up from her petting, and Angelo seemed to get annoyed by the sudden stopping. "Seifer went berserk. It's a good thing you didn't see it close up. I wish I'd didn't." She shuddered a little, when she recalled how exactly similar he had been at the Dollet exam. The wild look in his eye had just afflicted the same devastating carnage that he did in that studio. She shuddered again.

Rinoa looked away at nothing in particular and toyed with the pendant hanging on her chest. The sparkle normally shining in her hazel eyes was covered in a frosty opaque murk that did not hide her true senses. "What happened to him?"

"He went berserk," Zell replied in a low voice. He seemed an emotionless wreck, after his catastrophic slip-up. He had just given his home base away to the enemy, and a direct military hit was imminent. Still, he wondered, it could all be just a threat and fancy talk. Ignoring his surroundings, he punched hard the wall beside him and did not wince at the pain.

Rinoa flinched at the hit and stumbled for words. "I mean, where did he go? The President escaped."

Squall looked at Quistis, who shrugged in response. "We don't know," he replied.

Rinoa pondered that and then whistled at Angelo, whom promptly panted his way over to her feet. "They found and destroyed our base."

"Oh no!" Selphie cried.

"Don't worry. Everyone's escaped, they're good at that sort of thing."

"Good, that's a relief!"

"Where did _they_ go?" Quistis asked.

"They're probably disguised as some townfolk," Rinoa thought aloud, "probably hiding in the pub."

Squall looked over the edge again and saw a couple of manned drones were now encircling the city. "I don't think it's a good idea to stay in this city anymore."

"I don't think it's a good idea to be a resistance member right now. Um..." Rinoa gave some doe-eyes, "is there some place you can take me to until all this clears out?"

"A safe harbor?" Squall asked, not sounding the least bit enthused.

"More like an order from your client. A _generous_ order, actually."

"Well, we're bound to it more or less. Obligations aside, sure, why not?"

She seemed happy by that, after churning the remark over in her head. "Right now, though, it looks as if the going is a little tough. Maggie down in East Hill runs the Forest Foxes. She's got a private chateau down there, let's hide out there for a while."

"Safe?"

"Of course, silly, she's a resistance member."

_Well, that explains everything._

Quistis sighed. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

"Nothing on my watch," Selphie chirped, rubbing Zell's neck, "right, Zell?"

He waved his hand in a reply, and all five of them sort of shrugged an acknowledging response.

* * *

The leader of the Forest Foxes gave an exuberant cry when Rinoa knocked on her door, and all five of the hunted quickly entered the house out of sight of any guards. Some fresh-smelling gumbo was brewing on the stove, and a cat hissed and backed up a little at the sight of Angelo trotting around the den.

Maggie, the leader, was a large but humble woman with thick dark hair and jovial cheekbones. A dark blue bandana was nestled in her hair, and a worn apron was tied around her waist. Hard times had grown on her, but she seemed to always be able to manage a nice smile. One of those old adults that never let anything get them down in life-- or at least not in front of her three children. "Rinoa, dear! So nice to meet you again. Watts and Zone came by briefly here just a short time ago. They went off to Sister Carrie's place for a quick visit."

"Good, I was getting a little worried about them. They're a little foolish sometimes."

_Look who's talking,_ Squall thought.

The gumbo pot started boiling over, and Maggie rushed to the rescue. "The drones're flying around, but the patrols are too lazy to check up on things. This should all boil over in five or so hours. Til then, make yourselves at home, my children. Get some rest and have some gumbo!" She chuckled to herself. "Not everyday we get SeeDs in our house."

Even Zell and Squall managed a little laugh along with the three girls.

Rinoa pointed upstairs. "There's a guest bedroom up there. Let's go." They followed her up, and each took their own desired positions in the room and relaxed... somewhat.

Selphie laid on the bed, as usual, and had not one but _two_ animals to play with. Angelo hopped to the foot of the bed and nuzzled against her waist, while a brown cat with orange stripes crawled into her lap and nonchalantly pawed at Angelo's nose. Quistis walked over to the window and opened it just a crack to let in some fresh air, and then she lost herself in her thoughts. Her eye, though, kept straying back to this pretty Rinoa Heartilly. She wasn't expecting Timber resistance members to be this appealing. She wondered why she thought that way. Rinoa, meanwhile, sat next to the head of the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. She unstrapped the bowgun and placed the crude weaponry beside her and seemed to despise the use of violence altogether. Zell crouched uncomfortably by the furnace and stared at the wall. Many emotions ran through his mind, and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched his fists several times. Squall stayed by the staircase, for the room wasn't that big and the head of the stairs was right next to the door, and he looked at the floor. _Fuck this contract_, he thought, _nothing has gone right today._ Really, nothing had gone right today. A weird dream, a bunch of smelly cowards, a pretty girl with an inferior mind, a flawed train heist, gruesome executions, and a deranged gunblader. Squall tried to recreate what the President was saying before Seifer came and fucked everything up. Something about an ambassador, he remembered.

A _Sorceress_ ambassador?

What the hell was a sorceress doing in these parts. Or, for that matter, this entire world?

He walked into the center of the room, found a chair, and sat in it. He wanted a cigarette, or better yet he wanted some of that gumbo. There looked to be some fried okra, shrimp, noodles, and some caliente peppers in there. His mind was already working. As he shifted positions in the chair, his jacket opened fully up and out plopped the _Pet Pals_ magazine onto the floor. He was surprised the damn thing was still in there after all he'd been through.

"Ooh," Rinoa said, "I didn't know you liked animals." She gave a small mischievous laugh.

He bent and scooped it up. "I don't. Brawler over there tossed me it."

She got up and walked over to his side and flipped through the magazine. "Ah, it's Volume Three. There's a trick in here I've been meaning to teach Angelo. They call it 'Invincible Moon' or something."

"This rag teaches animals tricks?"

"It's not a rag! It's got some helpful grooming tips and diet plans and some other things."

"Rag," he muttered, waving his hand. "What's this 'Invincible Moon'?"

"I dunno. When the moon comes out, it's supposed to make them give off some sort of vibe or something to the people he enjoys being around with the most. This volume completes the collection I've already got, thank goodness." She carried the booklet over back to her position, pouring over the contents.

"A vibe?" Squall asked, his usual perplexed voice filling in again, "like a vampire or a werewolf thing or something?"

Quistis and Selphie chuckled a little, but Rinoa was unimpressed. "It's a cool little trick, okay! Now stoppit, I'm reading."

"I think you should read something on the President's getaway tricks, instead of dog treats and stuff."

Angelo made a remark for her with a small bark, and Squall shrugged his shoulders in response. He was never one to counterpoint an animal.

Maggie brought up some bowls of the gumbo plus some cups of rich cider and rum that really made the whole treat much more tasty. She informed them that a drone attempted to secure access to her house, but she was more than a match to outwit them. A secret charm was to give them a sample of her cooking, which satisfied all the parley accords right there.

Zell was more than happy to down a shitload of cider, but his mood didn't change that much. Squall burped more than he liked to care for, but everybody was pretty much burping so it didn't really matter.

Selphie finished first and attempted to tackle a different interesting conversation that didn't involve animals or burping. "Well, I know Squall will think today's been rather hectic, but I kinda think it's been a true test of our first field assignment."

"Really?" Quistis asked. "I think you're right, I half expected this mission to be stale and boring. Like Squall's personality most of the time," she said with a teasing wink over at him.

He set his plate down on the floor, chugged a big gulp, and burped. "Whatever."

The two SeeD girls giggled, and Selphie asked, "I still don't get it though, why did he come here in the first place?"

"Who?" Quistis asked.

"Seifer. And you said he killed one of the Guardians?"

"Yeah, totally--- eh... let's not get in that."

"Well, I for one always thought them to be complete assholes, but I'd never think about killing them."

Rinoa stretched out, and an unseen white cat popped out from under the bed and scared her. Not one to be mean, though, the wily cat made herself home in Rinoa's lap and went to sleep. "I think," the Owl spokeswoman said, regaining her composure, "that he wanted to help us out. I talked about Timber a lot with him. True, he only came to buy some gin. I don't know why he likes that stuff. But, over time, he seemed to really enjoy hearing all about what it is we do." She had a sudden thought and looked over at Squall. "Please don't think too badly of him."

Everyone, including Zell briefly, looked at him. He regarded Rinoa with an academic's look and pondered the correct choice of verbage. He chose to use a visual. "Maybe you already know from looking at him, but he and I gave each other a special present nonetheless." He fingered his scar. "I don't like to bring up the specifics, but..." he paused, searching for better-sounding words before finally giving up, "it's all a thing of the past."

Rinoa looked at his face and traced the edges of the scar without being too pressing on him and thought back to when she saw Seifer again after that incident. She recalled he didn't say much about it either. _Boys,_ she thought,_ always trying to act all cool when they're really not_. "He'd said you're a pretty good fighter. I've seen plenty of that already."

Squall waved his hand in the air. "It's my life, not much to say about that."

Quistis took the conversation, getting annoyed by their back-and-forth. "Well, let me tell you, he was pissed. Of course, he's not a SeeD because of his own doing. Well, he heard about the three of you going to Timber by yourselves, and he was downright furious. Cid came and talked to him, but he wouldn't listen. It was like he was possessed by something, the strangest thing."

"Possessed?" Selphie asked.

"I can't say for sure. He was aware of Deling coming to talk here, and he was like '_What?! They might end up fighting the entire Galbadian force, and all they dispatch are three rookie SeeD members! F this shit, I'm going to Timber!'_ And that's how he came here, killing someone in the process."

"'F this shit?'" Selphie asked, smiling.

Quistis gave a timid smile. "I hate cursing, unlike some people around here."

"_Fuck_ is a word you use when you want to get the job done," Squall replied, weakly defending himself. "You can't stop those types of things."

Zell grunted in approval, and the three girls and even the animals shook their heads. Squall continued, "Hard to imagine my rival having something of a soft spot."

He saw Rinoa flash him a look, but he didn't look too deeply into it and lost himself into some cider. Silence prolonged the moment for a long while, and the two cats eventually got bored and left for downstairs, while Angelo grew curious about some of the empty bowls and set to working acting as Resident Vacuum Cleaner. Selphie grew tired and leaned back and closed her eyes, while Rinoa grew more awake and agitated thinking about the poor gunblader who had threatened the President. Zell wasn't thinking about anything save for his callousness, and Quistis herself was getting agitated. She eventually broke their silence. "What's really going to happen to him."

"He's dead, probably," Squall bluntly called out, the cider and rum flowing through him.

Selphie was with Rinoa in openly balking, but the hazel-eyed pink skinned harlot was the first to respond, "Rude! Don't ever say that!"

Squall waved that off, and then thought about it. "Well, think about it. He attacked the President. A void surrounded them, and when it was gone, so was he. If he's not dead, he's in that tortue prison Deling's got." He saw her cold stare. "I'm a realist, what can I say?"

"I feel sorry for him."

He could not suppress a chuckle. It was low, but she was able to pick it up.

"Dammit! What's so funny?! You're terrible!"

"So," Selphie said, scratching Rinoa's back and forcing her from standing up, "do you think maybe you might be wrong?"

Squall addressed her with as much patience as he could muster. "I'm only wrong if people can prove me wrong. The facts are right in front of us. Before he came in and made a mess of everything, Deling was lavishing his pride and glory over his newfound ambassador he's taking to the immediate economic forum. Apparantly, it's a Sorceress, and that thought is a very interesting thing to know. Her name started with an 'E', and I've been trying to think of any name that sounds familiar."

"A Sorceress?! But they're supposed to be extinct from this earth!"

"Nothing is ever truly extinct from this earth. Everything is organic matter, and when someone dies they are reprocessed into the nature of this earth for future generations to sow and reap along down the line. I know that flies in the face of the teachings of Eden, but fuck it I don't really care about the intracacies of Balamb and Galbadia's established religion settings."

"So, why does tha--"

"Edea! That's what her name was. Sorceress Edea."

"So, what does that have to do with Seifer's death?"

"Edea and Vinzer Deling have joined forces together to take over the entire landmass, something that has never been done before in the history of the two continents. Why are they doing this, I have not a fucking clue, nor do I really care at this point. My and our position is to fulfill Cid's wishes and Rinoa's wishes, however, Mr. Seifer here has assaulted the President and indirectly assaulted the wishes of this Sorceress. What other punishment is there besides death?"

Selphie slowly nodded her head. That realization was unsettling but truthful in every word. Rinoa, though, was determined. "Even so! You can have hope in Eden's prayers that he is alive."

Squall snorted and moved to his more comfortable introverted self. _The audacity of hope. Hope and peace? The President mentioned that several times, but of course he is a fucking figurehead. The fuck dya expect? You're a fucking resistance member, so you blindly go through everything thinking you can light the way on a little false hope. Reality isn't so kind, girl, things don't work out the way you want it to._ He snapped out for he saw her tapping her foot impatiently and looking at him with a weird expression. He wished he could say his thoughts to her, but he didn't really care to at that point. The toe-tapping was excruciatingly annoying and he bit off more than he could chew. "Don't get your hopes up about the inevitable. You'll feel less pain for that. Also, whatever wish you have is none of my business, especially if it involves the impossible."

Quistis turned to the window to try to catch a glimpse of the Sun rising. They had been talking and resting for nearly six hours, and the GF gems had worked in accordance with the rum and cider-- further enriching the healing process. However, that damn Sun too felt the dreary mood and stayed damningly behind a cloud. She hit her forehead against the glass and sighed.

Rinoa gaped at Squall. "You are mean, you know that?!!"

Squall studied her and then himself. He realized the room had gone severely flat, and that bothered him a lot. "Sorry," he muttered.

She blinked twice and turned slowly around at the sound of approaching footsteps. Maggie entered, seemingly unaware and uncaring of the chilly atmosphere, a smile on her lips. "The vast bulk of them are gone, my dears. Now's your chance to escape!"

Rinoa nodded and led the way down the stairs. Squall held back a little, thoughts churning in his head, before following them down. They congregated in the kitchen for a minute, unsure of what to do next. Zell moved to a corner and resumed his previous hunched-over position, Selphie admired a view of the hazy city, and Rinoa and Quistis leaned against the wall silent. Squall was growing irritated by the others' silence, and he made a move for the door.

Unfortunately, Quistis stopped him. "Any thoughts on what to do next?" There seemed to be more than a hint of testing in that question, something that really bothered him.

He turned back around and secretly craved some more tasty cider. The obvious thought crawling through his mind was that they had to leave the city first before doing anything else.

"Leaving the city is only the first step, you know," Quistis dogged him.

_Damn,_ Squall thought, _she's pretty good._ "Well, then what? You seem to know."

"Garden Code 8, Line 7 ring a bell?"

"8:7." Numbers, numbers, numbers. Unbeknownst to him, the little gnomes in his brain immediately went to work and checked all the filing cabinets from the past eight years, working like flies on a pit of manure. Within seconds, a yellowed piece of paper floated around in his mind's eye with the most eloquent phraseology written on it: _In the untimely circumstance or impediment of progress generating the restitution and restoration of personnel to their assigned Garden, immediate attention must acquiesce to the nearest Garden for reconniasance._ Eloquent bullshit, but the point was clear. "Report to the nearest Garden."

She threw her hands up in a mock celebration. "Hooray, a leader that knows his stuff! That nearest Garden is none other than Galbadia's."

"The enemy's."

"Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. I believe a prophet of Eden's once said that you had to embrace your fools and enemies alike along with your friends in order to have a more balanced life."

He shrugged. "Can't argue with that."

Rinoa fidgeted a little. "As Maggie said the soldiers have left, the trains should be running lightly now. A cart from here will take us to the East Academy Station, a little juncture east of the Garden."

"Right," Quistis commented, "get off there and through the forest just north of it. Go through the forest, down Lollapalooza Canyon, and there is the Garden. I don't think it'll be too much of a hassle. I mean, what exactly is four SeeDs and a Timber resistance member going to do against ten thousand Galbadian militants and five thousand Galbadian SeeDs?"

Squall nodded, itching to leave the disturbing city. "Alright then, we'll leave here together. No sense in separating once on the train and off it. Let's get a move on." He watched them stretch a little and fix up their weapon satchels before addressing the host of the house. "Thank you for housing us all this time, miss."

The Forest Fox waved it off with another smile on her face. "My child, it has been my pleasure. You five be very careful now-- no telling what these dirty bureaucrats are bound to do!"

They left her house and took in the sweet and sickly air of the city once more. Nothing but Timber's regular militia guards were patrolling around, heads down and lost in thought. The Galbadian army was more than likely making way for the great fanfare in the coming days over the grand ambassador's arrival in Deling City. They stood on the sidewalk for some time, comtemplating the next steps they had to take before Squall led them across several blocks towards the train station. Indeed, several carts were coming and going, but a majority of commerce trains were still stalled. No doubt business would be terrible on the markets of various cities around the globe.

Zell snorted back to the conscious world momentarily with a very grim realization. "We don't have tickets to board a train, Mr. Leader."

Squall stopped walking and felt like the dumbest idiot in the world. Searching for a good response, he found none and lamely replied, "I knew that."

"Mega bummer!" Selphie moaned. "Now, what're we going to do?"

Squall addressed Rinoa, although they still wouldn't look each other in the eye. "How far is this East Academy Station on foot?"

"A couple hours."

"Two hours, damn. Not much time to waste here."

Quistis asked, "What's wrong with purchasing a ticket?"

"Back in Balamb, there a thousand gil a piece."

"One thousand gil! Preposterous!"

"There three thousand gil here," Rinoa said, "Galbadia's put a trade tax on all goods and services for this particular city."

Squall smacked his pants and snorted. "I doubt anyone here wants to pay a total sum of fifteen thousand gil to take a two-hour train ride to some dusty outhouse in the redneck hills."

"I don't mind walking," Selphie said trying to sound cheery.

A coughing voice rumbled up slowly behind them. "Oh, back in my day, walking cured any ailment one had in these parts. I walked fifteen miles one way just to get a loaf of bread. In the sun, rain, and snow I did. Although it never snowed here, except that time in '56."

The five of them turned to see an old man in a white sweater, brown overalls, and slacks along with a brown derby addressing them. He leaned on a knobby old cane, and he was dragging his feet over to them. He might've been old, except his face seemed youthful and fresh. Rinoa recognized immediately who it was, and Squall had a vague impression-- the smell of the man seemed very familiar to him.

"Zone, honey, what are you doing dressed like that?!"

"Shhh! Rinoa, you'll give me away!"

"They're gone, Zone. No need for that right now."

"Poppycock, besides this wear makes me look awesome, I think."

The Forest Owl leader straightened up to his natural height, and he let the cane fall to his side. "Stooping like this, though, hurts my stomach more so than usual."

"Maybe you should quit those Naughty Magazines of yours, and you'll be fine."

He gulped and forced a change in the subject. "Things run through the grapevine here. Need to go to East Academy Station? No more tickets available."

Squall snorted again, and everyone else shook their heads. Selphie, though, was her usual self. "Super-Duper-Mega-Bummer!"

Squall looked at her like she had a tentacle growing out of her head, and then addressed Zone. "So what now?"

Zone waved his hand. "No need for extremities. I've got everyone's ticket! I'm that good, you know. One for the Owl, three for the SeeDs, and one for me." He made a move to put the ticket in his pocket and then noticed Quistis empty-handed. For some reason, he felt his stomach acting up with more veracity than he intended-- but could he be blamed? she was dressed in a dominatrix outfit! He hastily gave her the ticket, ducked behind a corner, and did something out of sight of the rest of them.

Squall flagged Quistis's attention. "That's the leader of the resistance movement." She nodded in a reply with one eyebrow cocked.

Rinoa ignored the comment and went to his aid, but she stopped short for this time he was truly retching up out of their sight. She leaned down slowly and actually startled him when she put her hand on his shoulder. "Zone, don't give up hope just because our mission pretty much failed. We will see each other again."

He wiped his mouth and replied, "And Timber's independence?"

"You can count on that. Clean yourself up and get out of here. Don't want to see you get hauled off to the prison now."

He clumsily stood up. "They'd have to kill me first before that." Looking at Squall from around the corner, he made a final comment, "Take care, Mr. Squall, I hope to see you again some day," and then he ran like mad out of the train station and across the city to catch up with Watts who had secured a smaller private cargo train for the getaway.

The morning was speeding by, and already the Sun was approaching one-fourth of the sky, so they hastily went to the nearest loading bay. The tickets which were seemingly paid for by someone else and then stolen by a combined combination of the Forest Owls, Foxes, and Bears were enough to get them onboard, and they each waited in the main access cart of the train. Because of the recent events circulating the countryside, the trains were now hard-wired for stricter access. A card checker was in place in the very first cart, and Squall had to run everyone's card through to open the lock. It didn't help to have an impatient Selphie yelling in his ear to hurry up. He opened the locks, and the five of them entered their guilty-access ride. Since there was lax patrol in the entire station and on the train itself, Angelo had a happy, panting time sneaking himself on board trailing Rinoa's fluttering cape.

"Woo-hoo!" Selphie yelled. "I love trains." She tore away from them and down the aisle like a kid in a candy store.

Squall watched her go and shook his head. _How could she have so much cheer when so much depressing shit is going on?_ He turned to the rest of his crew and found Zell again looking suicidal over by the window. He shook his head at him, too and glanced over at the other two girls who seemed waiting for his upcoming remark. Not wanting to disappoint, he said, "We'll make it, I guess."

Quistis folded her arms and managed a smile. "With a leader as pragmatic as you, how couldn't we?"

Angelo barked in appreciation, seeming to still like him even after his blow-up with the furry dog's owner. Rinoa gave a little nod and then leaned down and scratched the dog's ears. They had a two-hour trip to the drop-off point, and all they had now was to wait. Inside the small lobby room-- if it was indeed a lobby room-- there was a small dresser with a bookshelf. Quistis saw an entertainment rag on the first shelf, and while it was against her nature to read tabloids, she suddenly found herself flipping through _Star's Private Lives Exposed! vol 45_. Rinoa pulled out the dog magazine she had taken from Squall, and Angelo helped her turn the pages. The gunblader sat with his butt on the cold metal floor and realized just how boring the next two hours would be, until he himself looked at the bookshelf. A new _Weapons Mon Monthly_ was there! The May version. _Should I really look like a geek now?_

_Fuck it._

He took it and read its contents: The Cutting Trigger. Damningly, it didn't give as much info as the last month's issue had for the Shear. It didn't even offer a picture! All it said was: _New gunblade model sought. Utilizing the sacred horn of the Mesmerize, plus the glutinous secretions of the Gizzard, and a handful of screws, the Cutting Trigger improves on the sharpness of the blade and the recoil speed of the gun assembly. A must-have for gunblade enthusiasts. Nine thousand gil for craftwork._ Absolute fucking rip-off. Mesmerize horns sold on the market for five hundred gil. He grunted aloud, causing Rinoa to look.

"Even Seifer wasn't fascinated so much by weapons."

That remark was untrue, but he didn't want to get involved in another talk about him. Still, having it remain out in the open was more unbearable. "He was more interested in competition, not precision."

She remained silent for a while. _How could someone be so ambivalent and cold all the time? _she thought,_ Seifer was bright and optimistic, if indeed a bit full of himself_. This broody leather jacket-wearing man was unenthusiastic. She found words hard to describe it, and she ended up not following through in the conversation.

Zell let out a sigh that caused them to look, but he had closed his eyes and fallen into a light nap. They knew what was going on in his mind.

****

Yaulney Canyon was a quiet and tranquil place on the eastern side of Westonia (a horrible-sounding name, but if that's what Vinzer Deling wants it to be called, then so be it!), and it overlooked the small outpost of East Academy Station. The Timber train pulled into it slowly, and the five people plus the dog exited. There was a balmy wind blowing from the sweltering humidity coming off the sea from the east and the larger canyons further north. Yaulney was a grassy canyon short in size and not very deep. A small river flowed lazily from the distant sea further into a tough ridgeline buttressing Lollapalooza Canyon northwards. A small stony bridge cut across it, and the group walked along it and came across few appearances of wildlife. Small rabbits and birds brightened the area, for springtime was alive on the western continent. Wildflowers and dollarweed were everywhere. A couple monster species was said to roam the landscapes but only at nighttime, although they weren't too much of a hassle.

Selphie was out jumping in the wind, and Zell had not cheered up in the slightest. In fact, he seemed on the verge of drowning himself in the river and Squall had to walk right behind him to keep him from making a sudden move. The large forest Quistis had mentioned was a very noticeable patch of green. Flanked by two red-colored ridges, it gave a peculiar aura of protecting something behind it-- which was no doubt the troubling Galbadia Garden. The forest canopy was not very high, and it was probably not very deep.

The Sun was approaching the high noon stage, and they were starting to sweat. They quickened their pace and made the edge of the forest by the noon setting and rested in the shade.

Angelo panted like mad and curled up in a ball next to a bush, enjoying the coolness of the shade. Quistis wiped the sweat from her brow and sat on her haunches against a tree. "We're not too far from the Garden right now. I say, about, another hour through this forest path, and we'll come across it."

"Good," Squall said, leaning against a tree, "we'll rest here for a few minutes and then continue on."

Rinoa stretched, took off the bowgun from her wrist, and scrunched her nose as she wiped away the sweat that had collected under it. Angelo nuzzled his head against her leg, and she petted him some more.

Selphie sat sharply down on the grass and picked at some flowers and sniffed them. She loved the spring so much that she couldn't describe it-- if that was even possible. She was a very interesting girl in her emotions, for now her cheerful face suddenly morphed into a nasty frown. "I just thought of something really awful."

"Do tell," Squall muttered, not really caring.

"The events in Timber. If Galbadia is interested in causing psychological harm to its settlements, then what if we get there to Garden and they end up broadcasting us as the conspirators of a massive terrorist plot against them! We could... be broadcast to the entire world!"

Zell came back to reality and seemed to stay into it for several more seconds than of late. "Whatever happens, happens Selphie! We cannot afford to stall a second longer, though. I'm--" he stumbled and seemed to choke a little "I'm worried about Balamb Garden."

"Well, so am I Zell," she said.

"Yeah, but it's my fault that it's in trouble! I stood there with him threatening to slice the President's throat, and I blurted out 'Garden' like an idiot! If-If anything happens to Balamb, it's all my fault!"

_Damn right it is. Always is, too._ Squall sighed a little too loud, for the girls caught it instantly. Zell, however, didn't but he ran up to him anyway and grabbed his leather jacket. The move at first infuriated Squall, but he softened a little at the sight of Zell's pained expression.

"Squall!" he said, his voice choking, "do you... do you think Deling will... retailiate against Garden?"

Squall shrugged. "Probably."

Zell let go of the jacket, and brought his hands up to his temples to ease the pain. He shook his head several times and then grabbed Squall's jacket again. "We have a bunch of SeeDs at Balamb Garden, and humanities students, and up-and-coming squads, and the Guardians. They... wouldn't lose to the Galbadian army, would they?"

Squall grabbed Zell's left arm and pulled it off the jacket. "Depends on how strong the army is." His voice hissed when he spoke, and he grabbed Zell's right arm and half-threw, half yanked the brawler out of the way. Zell landed on his ass and looked away again, dejected. The gunblader sighed annoyingly.

Angelo gave an unappreciated bark, and Rinoa stood up and faced him. "Oh, you're just a great leader, aren't you, huh?"

"Rinoa," Zell started, "it's nothing serio--"

"Nothing serious! He just flat out ignored you and basically said 'Oh, sorry Zell, I don't give a damn about your worries or your feelings'!"

Zell fought for words but scuttled back into his thoughts again. Quistis sighed but didn't look at Rinoa. "That's the way Squall has always been. He's blunt and matter-of-fact."

"Foolish," the fiery Owl snapped, "Zell wants your support, and you're sitting here acting so callous. To Selphie to. I can imagine you're the same with Quistis as well."

Squall put a finger to his temple. He seemed to be developing a slight headache. A constant ringing was occurring in his ear. _Does she have to be so goddamned annoying all the time. Haven't we already had a spout like this today?_

The other SeeDs had quietly looked off into the distance. Rinoa continued, unabated. "A little encouragement, Squall, would make their lives so much better."

_Like you do to your cowardly resistance members?_

"Don't you ever worry about or _think_ about the well-being of your comrades?"

_Why rely on what other people believe or think? You're in this on your own!_

"Don't you understand?!?"

He lowered his head again. That damn ringing was increasing. He could still hear her, though. _Whatever, woman. You're just as bad as Quistis._

Rinoa gave an exasperated sigh and stamped her foot. "Are you even listening to me?!!!"

A horrible sting flamed at the base of his spine and erupted immediately up to his brain. He staggered forward in great pain towards Rinoa, who gasped in shock, and landed hard on his knees. The ringing intensified, and all around him the forest scenery turned gray and then white. It was happening again, he knew it! He knew exactly what was happening, and he didn't want it. Laguna was coming back, that stupid dim-witted sonofabitch and his goofy cavorting sidekicks! He didn't want it. He screamed, but his voice gargled and frothed in inexplicable sounds, and he swayed there on his knees. He could feel that Galbadian soldier's presence, that seamless transition into his limbs and blood, and he felt himself becoming Laguna Loire. He vaguely saw Rinoa in front of him with a horrified expression on her face, and he tried to reach out for her. But it was too late, he collapsed on his face and entered the new world.

Rinoa had her hand to her face, and she dared not drop it. The sight of Squall reeling and retching was ghastly, but she could not pull herself away. When he collapsed and did not wake up, she could not move as well. Two more thuds occurred to her left and right, and she forced herself to turn. Quistis and Selphie were down for the count. They had made similar noises and faces, and now they were passed out cold. Zell was moving like a zombie to tend to them, and she found that despicable at first, but he looked at her with a glance that seemed to be surreal. "What's going on?!!!" she screamed at him. Angelo whimpered over by the bush.

His voice was far away. "They've gone to the dream world."

* * *

This was the dreadful part of the world; dark stormclouds threatened but never exploded over the cracked stony landscape. The ruinous netherworld of Centra was a barren wasteland, and the only vegetation was scattered clusters of cacti-- the proverbial dark-skinned species that could survive any type of climate and never wither away. Animals were nonexistent, and the only type of monster that roamed this land was the zombie stalwarts known as Blitzes that patrolled with a nomadic lifestyle. Huge rods imbued with electrical energy hung attached to the skin of their backs, and when threatened they would disattach them and go on a mad berserk phase to annihilate their perceived enemy. Such meetings of them, graciously, were few and far between. The Sun never shown in this part of the world, and the jagged mountain peaks was the perfect location to house this special building project.

The barren stony wasteland went for miles on end until entering a stony lagoon of mountain peaks and dropped down into a massive misty pit. A large and obscure object was embedded there, and the authorities of a secret government compound were attempting to conceal it within the earth. How long that would last would probably not be awhile-- given the massive object's extreme importance. Galbadian splinter cells were already attempting to sabotage the effort. Making great strides in the process, President Deling and General Rafeal Carroway had signed their first agreement and accords together at Carroway's mansion to promote a bilateral strike against Esthar's strongholds in Centra. One of these stronghold defeats enabled the Galbadians to secure control of the southern proximity of this terrible object in the stony pit. The western continent wasn't at all sure what the damn thing was, but they knew Sorceress Adel was keenly interested in the artifact.

Massive lightning strikes but no rain attached to them were common forms of entertainment for the patrol gangs, but one particular gang was unfortunately not having a pleasant time in the area. Indeed, they were quite lost.

In fact, they were totally on the wrong continent.

Laguna Loire, Kiros Seagill, and Ward Zabac were supposed to be in the Trabian continent as part of Galbadia's latest propagandistic campaign to garner as many friends as possible against the rebellious and terrorist threats of the Esthar regimes. Their boat ride unexpectedly turned south instead of north somewhere along the way, yet they hadn't bothered to pay attention to geography classes, and they really weren't aware of the fact that the two continents didn't look anything alike whatsoever.

Laguna was the first one off the ship, and a huge dumb smile was on his face. He scanned all around and took in an awesome thunderbolt that lit up a patch of cracked land some five hundred miles away. The land was flat, except for that lagoon of mountain ridges closest to his right side, and one could stand on a can and see a long way off without any problem. The realization that he was in the wrong place was totally not there in him; he had his machine gun hanging loosely on the strap around his chest, and he just stood on the cracked land with one leg bent and the other holding him straight and a big goofy grin lay plastered on his face. "It looks gloomy, but Trabia's not all that bad."

As usual, Kiros was the first one to notice something peculiar. He took off one of his daggers and used that free hand to scratch the back of his head. The dreadlocks had gotten itchy and sweaty from that cramped boat ride, and he had to work the kinks out. The head-scratching seemed to do him some ease in relieving partially that incessant buzzing sound that was creeping in the back of his brain. The boat ride had seemed to start it. He put the dagger back on his wrist and scanned the horizon again.

Ward leaned on his heavy anchor and seemed to register the reality the same as Kiros. "You sure this is the place, man?" he addressed the dark-skinned Seagill.

"Positive, maybe."

"Maybe? What the hell! How can one be positive _maybe_?"

Kiros scratched his temple. "Did you pass your map test back in school?"

The big man folded his arms across his chest. "I got a 68 on it. Three points above the fail point."

"I got a 72."

"Look, I don't want to be patrolling the wrong place again. Colonel said if we don't report back on the right place, he'll demote us to cleaning the sewer systems in Deling City. I think the world is full of shit, but I don't want to be cleaning the real ones."

Laguna felt their eyes on him, and he turned slowly. Their looks made him feel queasy, and he resorted to some quick thinking. Unfortunately, his quick thinking came up with nothing. He knew as well as they did that they weren't in the right place. He had gotten a 73 on the test, and the only thing he remembered was that in Trabia it snowed all the time. He looked around again, and the dumb smile on his face changed into a dumb sad frown. "I think we went south instead of north."

"South instead of north, huh," Ward sighed. "South is always where the shit is."

"Damn, Laguna," Kiros said, "you were the one navigating the rig!"

"I had a buzzing sound go through my head!" The man with the machine gun lamented. "I still have it right now."

"Who the fuck cares! I have it, too, but that's no excuse to not pilot the boat properly!"

Laguna straightened up sharply. "It's the faeries!"

Kiros grunted. "Oh, stoppit, Laguna! It's seasickness! We've been out on this rig for six days, whatdy'a expect?"

"Faeries!"

"Seasickness!"

"Faeries!"

"Dammit, seasickness!"

"I think it's both," Ward said, rubbing the back of his head against the hilt of the anchor. "Right now, this buzzing crap is really pissing me off. Yet, I say, quit bitching you girls, we need to get a move on with some sort of patrol, or the Colonel will probably terminate us."

Both Kiros and Laguna sighed and silently acknowledged the good advice. The dark-skinned dagger fighter cleared his throat. "Let's go commander. There should be something of interest on this rock."

"Probably," Laguna said, pointing to the mountain lagoon, "what do you suppose that is?"

His two comrades looked over at his point and quietly ran through some possibilities. Ward smiled. "Could be a Chocobo forest in there."

"Or a secret den of nymphs," Kiros said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Horny bastard!"

Laguna laughed. "Come on you two, let's go."

The air was dry and hot, and the mist emanating around the stony lagoon sent small rivulets of mist dancing around the cracked earth. Several times, lightning bursts crackled near them forcing them to be extra careful in their steps. They came across one nomadic Blitz, and they paused to watch its movements. The impaled wiry creature seemed to regard their movements suspiciously, but it stayed far away and only plodded its course in accordance with their headed direction. After a awhile of trailing them across the stretch, it gave up and plodded a different meandering course across the barren wasteland.

They held their breath through the dank mist and smelled the smell of sulfur and fresh gravel churning rapidly. A loud rumbling sound was gaining rapid tenacity, and as they entered the lagoon the mist became thick like stew and they walked really close in a tight bunch. Ward held his large weapon close to his body so as not to make too much of a sound. They passed the first mountain ridge, and the mist promptly opened up momentarily to a scene that made their jaws drop.

A huge intricately-carved granite structure was half-buried in the earth. Even at that level, it was a hundred stories tall at least. Red and green carvings of ancient script glowed on its walls and panels, and a strong aura was seeping off it. Loud and winding gravel lines were sifting layers of rock and stone and slowly plunging the structure at a snail's pace into the earth. The structure was a mile wide, and the effort was going to take a while to complete. Ladders and staircases were framing all sides of it, for damages had been executed to its walls. A few battles had been lambasted on it, and the burying authorities seemed to want to conceal it with a pristine polish first.

The gravelly smell, the loud noise, and the enticing aura compelled the three soldiers to slowly walk down the ravine and into the pit. Broken shards of glass panel and huge granite debris lay strewn everywhere in the dirt and sand and shell earth, yet they were entranced at the massive object. They walked around for minutes through the dirty base until they found a metal scaffolding connecting to one of the structure's many doors. Climbing it, they winced at the loud noises their shoes made on the platform, but they continued to admire this mysterious tower ever more.

Laguna stopped abruptly, and his comrades stumbled over each other. The commander furiously scratched his head. The itching, buzzing sound still ached away at him, but he knew it was just the faeries-- even though he wasn't sure why they were doing that to him. Damn mythologies. "Seriously, this place is as strange as you can imagine!" He pointed to a gravel line. "The heck is this sheet of rocks? Are they going to make tombstones out of these?"

Ward and Kiros looked like they just sucked on a lemon. "Tombstones?" Kiros asked. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, I guess you could make them that way."

"There's a massive tower right next to us, and you're talking about tombstones?"

"Who cares about that?" Ward asked.

"If we die here, because of all the sulfur smell, I was wondering if these were natural rocks or not?" Laguna said.

"Damn, fool, you must be getting high or something."

"It'll take more than sulfur to kill us, Laguna," Kiros noted, "I think you're dumb questionings can take care of that."

"No such thing as a dumb question in my book!" The man with the machine gun smiled.

"Hope nobody reads it."

"If these rocks are strange," Ward said, "then so is your walking. Why are you running around like you got something up your ass?"

"I'd never stick anything up there! The hell are you talking about?"

"Just careful observation."

"Careful observation. _I_ am just being cautious, Ward. Basic rule of thu--"

A loud rattling echoed from inside the tower, and a heavy door slowly opened up. The three Galbadians clumsily brandished their weapons. They hadn't been used to fighting much in the last few months, and they wern't about to be happy about doing it now. What popped out of the door set their worries on a higher alert.

An Esthar soldier walked out the door and patrolled slowly across the scaffolding, checking out the nearest gravel lines to see if they were still operating properly. He was on a bridge to their immediate left and just a short intersection away, although they were on his blind side. While the Galbadians wore heavy blueish-white uniforms that were bulky and cumbersome, the Estharians wore slick green bodysuits and full-face skull masks that hid all parts of their skin. The Galbadians carried whatever sort of weapon they could muster from the country's bloated defense budget (which ironically did not supply their own troops with the adequate protection they needed), while the Estharians always carried nasty scythes with a dangerous curved blade that would hook into skin and peel the flesh right off the bone. They were a particularly lethal military force that specialized in guerilla war tactics instead of massive Shock and Awe campaigns.

"Damn," muttered Kiros, and Ward muttered the same thing.

"Now, guys, let's try to remain cool. One against three is not too bad, right?"

A slick sound like a weapon being unsheathed sounded behind them, and they slowly turned around. Ward's voice was slightly panicked. "How about three against six?"

The lone Estharian had spotted the mess and somersaulted across the gap in the scaffoldings. Landing behind the three soldiers who now faced the six-man surprise army, he pulled out his deadly scythe and smiled behind his mask at the delicious red Galbadian stew he was about to concoct.

The Estharian grunt who was closest to them made a gargling sound in his throat and then his voice was a bone-chilling rasp. "Nobody but Estharians are allowed on these premises, soldiers." His comrades nodded frantically and showed them a better gleam of their weapons.

Ward and Kiros looked at their leader who seemed about as calm as a young child who just got sent to the principal's office. Frantically his mind tried to form some great image or at least a viable response, but those damned faeries were wrangling his brain and wouldn't let go. He fought hard to control them, for their racket was intolerable. Yet, what was this sensation he was now feeling? A small tingling vibrated in his fingers and then stretched all the way through the veins of his arms and into his shoulders. It was as if oxygen and energy were pumping full force into his bloodstream, revitalizing him and calming him down. He looked at the impatient green enemy before him and stood defiantly with his hands holding his belt that contained the nasty machine gun. "We're a patrol gang for Galbadia, sir. We're here to check this place out."

Kiros hesitated for a second, knowing that that was not the correct reason, but his impulses had always been better than his commander's on tight situations like these. Plus, he too felt the weird sensation flowing through him. He showed his own gleam to the Estharians and stood there proud and defiant.

Ward wasn't keen for diplomatic conversation anyway, even if he too felt the sensation. He indicated his monstrous anchor and kept an eye on the lone antsy grunt behind them. "We're not here to cause trouble."

The grunt who had spoke gave a sickening hiss and was not impressed with their bravado. "Trouble always starts with a 'G'. Galbadia is nothing but trouble, pure and simple." His cohorts hissed in response. "Tell me, why is a patrol gang of only three troops toiling around these Centra ruins?"

_Centra ruins?_ Laguna about lost his composure, but he surprisingly kept it. "You don't have to believe us, but we'd like to continue our patrol if you please."

"And do what exactly," the grunt hissed.

No answer that sounded good was found in Laguna's jumbled mind.

The head grunt gave a nasty chuckle and didn't inquire further. However, he seemed to give a hidden signal to the lone grunt behind the Galbadian trio, and they almost missed the attack. The despicable green-clad menace backstabbed Laguna with a powerful uppercut of his scythe, hitting mostly armor instead of skin but leaving a nice clean graze in the process. Quickly, Kiros spun around and clashed his sharp daggers against the scythe of the Estharian grunt. The greenie pushed the daggers away and made a quick sweeping swipe and nailed Kiros in the shoulder, but the dark-skinned man doubled back and impaled the grunt through the heart and stomach, neatly taking the bloody daggers out in a quick pull. The grunt fell on his back, blood pouring slowly from the two lethal puncture wounds.

Laguna staggered to his feet, swaying a little from the jarring blow and readied his signature Z64 Sig submachine gun in a masterful grasp; his partner Ward shielded him with his 6'8'' girth and the enormous anchor resting comfortably on his shoulders ready to take on the half-dozen squad. The green squad hissed uncomfortably, but didn't feel too threatened. The head grunt stepped back and then somersaulted over the Galbadian's heads and doubled-back. Ward traced his move and brought the anchor around in a deadly arch and severed the grunt's body below the waist in one swipe. The blood had covered them, and before they could react the other five swarmed them and slashed their scythes as fast as they could. Slashes railed Kiros's body and drove him off the scaffolding into the gravel pit. Laguna avoided the barrage of scythes and opened fire. Several of his bullets deflected off the flashing metal because of his inaccuracy and chafed his legs and arms a bit. He avoided some more slashing, steadied his nerves, and dropped three of the grunts with perfect headshots. Ward suffered a deep cut on his shin and stumbled, but the anchor slipped from his grasp momentarily cut a deeper wound in the shoulder of a fourth grunt. The nasty wound frothed with blood, and the poor grunt uttered a hideous stinging hiss; the hissing stopped when Kiros leaped over the scaffolding rail and decapitated him with one clean swipe of his dagger. The last Estharian grunt looked at the three of them timidly and then committed suicide right in front of them.

The trio swayed from their wounds and suddenly realized that they had left all their medical supplies on the boat--- that was several miles away at this point! Laguna was the least wounded, for the graze on his back was not bleeding for the moment. He figured constant running around would eventually severly irritate it, but the unexplainable rush he was now feeling was beyond measurable and he smiled a big goofy smile. Kiros was stunned a little and bleeding from half a dozen wounds on his back and legs, but he felt fine. Ward, however, was reeling from his shin wound and was wincing badly. "Damn, that fucker got me good!"

Kiros held the big man steady as best as he could, while Laguna reached down to the grunt who killed himself and tore his bodysuit. He stopped in the middle of the process and beheld the grunt's skin-- it was purple. The grunt was emaciated, and his ribs were practically tearing his skin apart. Laguna shook the image from his head and tried not to look too much as he ripped a sizable chunk of cloth from the bodysuit. He took the cloth and did his best to stop Ward's bleeding. He had to get more cloth twice, for the big man kept jarring his leg at several spasms and twitchings. When they finally managed to secure a tight fit, they felt the hairs on the back of their necks raise.

A faint hissing sound echoed from the top of the pit, and they all saw at least a hundred green-clad suits plus something big and mechanical perched high up above them. Then, the Estharians charged them, and the trio gasped horrified.

"Fuck me holy," Laguna cried, and grabbed Ward's chest while Kiros did the same and propped the big man up.

"I'm not a fucking weakling, you two!" Grunting from the pressure in his shin, he hoisted the anchor onto his back and led the way for them into the monstrous tower the Estharians were concealing. They could hear the sounds of rock and stone being dislodged behind them and could imagine the massive horde of green swooping from behind. They ran like hell across the scaffolding and through the open door. Stopping briskly, Ward and Kiros pushed with all their might and closed the heavy door while Laguna ran a sharp stake through the hydraulic system to stall the process of reopening it. They didn't know if the greenies had bombs or if that massive mechanical monster had explosion capabilities, but they didn't give a damn about the semantics.

They looked quickly at their new surroundings and found the area to be extremely cold. Their breath could be seen, and their bodies turned rigid which sort of helped their cuts momentarily. The inside was vast and monumental with the inside walls gel-like and moving, their pastel colors changing from red to green to yellow. A clear walkway went from their path down a few flights to a crystalline passageway that snaked its way into various hidden places. Struck by its hideous but alluring beauty, they had no idea what its purpose was for at all.

"Wasn't our job just to patrol, Laguna?" Kiros asked, stress enveloping him. His job in the Galbadian military was stressful enough, he didn't want any extracurricular duties to forsee.

Ward took another wince at his shin, but he secretly was thankful for the now cold surroundings. He loved the cold weather, which was why he suggested the rhendevous at Trabia earlier that month. "Why does it always have to end like this?"

"Well, now come on guys," Laguna whined, his old self returning again, "seriously I wasn't expecting this to happen at all. I had a bad feeling earlier today, but I chose to ignore it. Remember that old famous quote: _The unfamiliar always happens..._?"

"Unfamiliar?" Kiros asked.

"Yeah, the old folks say it all the time."

"You mean 'unexpected' right?"

"Unexpected? Yeah, I said that!"

"No, Laguna," Ward smiled, crossing his arms, "you only got the 'un' part right."

The door behind them banged loudly, and the stake shoved in the hydraulics system almost broke in half. Panic hit them, for they got caught off guard once again. "Dammit!" Laguna shouted, "Come on guys, I don't know what this place is, but we're going sightseein'!"

They tore down the clear walkway and had just made it into the crystalline passageway when the jammed door exploded open by a small bomb fired from the machine parapet of the massive mechanical creature. Greenies poured through the melted opening, scythes drawn, and loud annoyed hissing echoing throughout the interior.

The air became considerably cooler down in the crystalline passageway, and they were afraid at first when they ran on the floor and saw their reflection in mirror-image quality looking up at them. For a fleeting instant, they felt as if they would fall through the surface, but the floor was hard concrete with a veneer liquidated coating that shined with untold brilliance. The changing wall colors reminded them of some of the pscyllocibin journeys they had partaken briefly in Ithius some months ago, and they enjoyed themselves along their run. The walls, though, carried more than just a kaleidoscopic imagery; some of the walls contained cubbyholes filled with ornate jewels and statues that depicted winged creatures that were presumably replicas of ancient Sorceresses. A heavy saturated aura seemed to penetrate them inside the passageway, as if they were encroaching on the shrine of an important diety.

The winding passageway delved deeper into the massive structure, yet their sore injuries did not stop them from running. The bulky armor on their bodies was severly hampering their speed, and their fatigue was running dry. The sounds of their pursuers were already catching up to their ears, and they heard scraping sounds of metal against the floor echo along too. Biting the pain back they continued into an enlarged room with three grated coverings on the floor. When they crossed the middle one, they almost fell through.

Laguna stumbled onto his knees and briefly thought the bone in his ankle had popped out. Caressing the sore spot, he noticed the middle grating was looser than loose. The enemies were right around the corner, and the faeries in his head suddenly revitalized his thinking once again-- or maybe it was just the psychedelic colors. "Those stubborn Estharians could probably fall through with this!"

"The hell you talking about!" Kiros impatiently yelled. "Come on!"

"Help me open this thing up. Then, they'll fall right through!" He stooped to lift it himself, but the grate was too heavy, and he almost smashed his fingers. It was a perfect trap, too, for it extended from the north wall to the south wall, completely covering the length of the floor. The width was wide, too, and impossible for a good somersaulting jump that these Estharians could do.

Ward, however, wasn't buying it probably because they were under duress. "Laguna, this is stupid, we have to go! Now!!"

"Look, man, help me out! They say, if you make fun of a genius, you'll end up crying in the end!"

"What?!!" Kiros cried.

"The hell's the genius?" Ward asked.

"Dammit, you two, the lever's broken, give me a hand!"

Sighing, the two helped him open it and cursed profusely from the damn thing's weight. They dislodged it from its hold and watched as it fell to a seemingly bottomless pit. Sounds grasped their attention, and they saw a swarm of grunts pour into their view. They stood sharply and paced quickly away from the trap and then stopped. They couldn't believe it-- at least a dozen of the grunts charged straight at them and fell right through the hole to their deaths! The rest of them halted right at the edge, and the dozens more that popped around the corner barreled into them and sent the front line tumbling down the death hole. Two of the swarm got pissed and hurled themselves in a fancy somersault over the hole... but missed. One didn't clear it, and the other twisted his leg on the jagged edge and sloppily fell into two pieces down the shaft. The rest of the large pack hissed like mad, and the whole chamber echoed with their disgusting sounds.

The Galbadian trio couldn't believe it, but before his two comrades could congratulate him for saving their ass, he lost his. Raising his machine gun above his head in a victory salute, he shouted, "Fuck you, Estharian greenies!"

Something big and robotic crashed through the wall to the left of them on _their_ side of the gaping hole. Another crashed through on the Estharian's side of the hole, and the grunts poured through their newfound opening. The two newcomers were huge, hulking Gespers. The Gespers were lowpaid, illiterate robotic humanoid creatures that were only good for melee combat. They were determined, selfless fighters who were extremely loyal and patriotic to the government of Esthar and would fight to the death in any circumstance. They had extreme vitality, and an opponent had to go all-out to succumb them. The one on the other side of the hole dumbly stood where he was and did not move, but the one closest to them snarled at the trio. Laguna riddled it with bullets until the humanoid stumbled, and then Kiros and Ward dragged him and pulled him downward into the deepening passageway. The Gespers had created a detour, and now the grunts were on the trio's side and gaining ground.

They went farther and farther down, and their wounds steadily impeded their progress. Yet, just when Ward's wraps loosened to reveal fresh blood again, they barreled into a vaunting demolition room with a semi-working elevator stretching up several dozen stories. Dynamite, missiles, and bombs littered the floor and some looked ready to ignite. A couple of timers and triggers were stashed among them, and this time all three of them had the same idea. Yet, they were not alone. Grunts were above them eschewing from secret entrances and crawling across the upper floors near the top of the elevator; yet, they weren't ordinary grunts but sharpshooters, and they had some deadly flying boomerangs holstered on their shoulders. At the moment, they were finding some common ground; on the floor there was bigger problems. The lone Gesper was the first to greet them, and Kiros stayed to do battle while Ward hobbled to a corner to mend his shin as best he could. Laguna ran to the nearest bomb and grabbed a timer. Several courses in explosive ordinances had taught him how to hardwire a bomb, and he worked as fast as he could to set a deadly present.

Kiros shielded himself from the Gesper's frighteningly powerful thrust and with his daggers cut two sharp nicks in the humanoid's wrists. The creature didn't feel a thing and kicked the dagger fighter's legs off balance. Kiros resumed his stance and fought and blocked the Gesper over missiles and jagged uprisings in the floor. The humanoid grabbed a jutting pike and blocked and parried the swinging daggers getting in a serious lick across Kiros's chest and a couple smaller ones on Kiros's face and stomach. Angry, Kiros sidestepped and shanked the humanoid in its kidney, cutting a deep wound. The dark-skinned man leapt up and plunged the daggers straight into its neck and plunged farther down taking off as much blood as he could muster. Yet, the Gesper held on by a thread and knocked Kiros down. The wound gaped wide open, and the Gesper flailed but still held its footing. Struggling to his feet and suffering a major gash to his forehead, Kiros forcefully brought his daggers up and sliced the Gesper's head into three pieces.

Laguna set a timer and saw the horde of Esthar grunts come pouring into the room. One of them hurled his scythe at Kiros, but Ward snapped himself together and deflected the flying weapon with a spectacular thrust of his anchor sending the scythe flying into the stampeding crowd decapitating three and severely maiming five. When his two comrades saw him, they ran for the elevator, and Laguna chucked the timed bomb onto the floor at the grunt's feet. He turned on a dime and ran towards the elevator, not daring to look back. The grunts stumbled over the present and watched as the short timer of ten seconds fell quickly to "zero". The explosion ripped apart at least three dozen bodies and forced Laguna onto his stomach with his chin smacking hard the floor of the elevator. Ward and Kiros faltered in their balance, too, but quickly pulled Laguna up and hit the switch. The doors closed, and they watched the blood-splattered floor ignite into more fiery death as the various strewn missiles and bombs caught the debris of the first explosion and ignited into smaller explosions. The elevator malfunctioned and tilted to one side. The doors broke apart, and they were forced to leave their confines and land hard on a floor level some forty stories above the carnage of the base floor. The elevator shaft broke into many pieces and fell in a massive heap among the destroyed base.

Ward and Kiros could curse at him for his carelessness, but the Estharian sharpshooters had other plans for them. A slick sound whiplashed the air, and a sharp steel boomerang sliced a big gash in Kiros's back, while another ripped open a nastier cut in Laguna's. The commander retailated with a fury and blasted a hideout on a couple floors above them, dropping one of the sharpshooters down the various flights to his death in the fiery base. More boomerangs flew, but Ward deflected as much as he could sending them penetrating into the wall or down the flights. They stumbled and bled up the stories, searching for a way out of the hell. The sharpshooters were never good in melee, and they leapt to their deaths as soon as the Galbadian trio caught up to their nests.

Pain now ate furiously at their endurance, and all three now suffered violently bleeding wounds. Without immediate medical assistance, they were as good as dead. They scaled a dozen more stories before they found an alcove leading to a narrow path. A small ray of light shone out of it. Logical thinking was lost on them at this point, and they stumbled through the opening and found the coldness to be steadily warming up. The faint cawing of seagulls was heard, and the next thing they knew they saw the Sun for the first time fighting against a mass of thunderclouds. The southern sea was in their view, and they were on a clifftop overlooking the sea. A jutting mountainridge was high above them still, and the mist was slightly visible here. They could barely stand.

The enemy, though, was unstoppable.

Just half a dozen Estharian grunts managed to finally catch up to them, but they were not alone. The mechanical beast finally caught them, too, and bulldozed its way through the wall of the clifftop. The outside clifftop was not very large, and the ten occupiers created a very claustrophobic situation. The Estharian opposition eyed their opponents warily and maliciously.

Laguna sighed, desperately seeking one final ounce of strength from the faeries. It seems as if they weren't finished yet, either. "Of all the worst predicaments."

Ward grunted, clumsily lifting his anchor, "Cannot give up now!"

"That's for sure!" Kiros hissed through his gritted and bloody teeth. He showed his red, splotchy, soaked daggers and fought the pain in his back. "Give them hell!"

Laguna lunged first, and he splattered bulletfire into the first three grunts. One died immediately, but the other two deflected as much of the bullets as they could with fancy shielding moves. The other three somersaulted over them and rushed the trio. The lead grunt swat a powerful kick on Laguna's arm as he reloaded and flung the machine gun to the floor. The scythe in the next turn sliced Laguna's stomach and barreled him to the floor. Kiros decapitated Laguna's attacker, but a second greenie knocked him down and cut his chest open. Ward punched that grunt in the face and then ripped the third attacker into five separate pieces. The two bleeding grunts hobbled over to them as quick as they could, and Laguna fought the pain and grabbed his machine gun. One grunt lunged ontop of him only to have his body ripped in the front by Laguna's gunbursts and ripped in the back by Kiros's thrusts. The last grunt tackled Ward from behind and used his dagger to deliver a special soulcrusher attack and ripped the big man's throat open. Ward collapsed to the ground and stayed there. Laguna cursed loudly and blew the grunt's head off.

The large mechanical beast was patient and cunning, but it overshot its explosive round by firing a deadly missile straight over their heads. The blast blew off a thick round of stony cliff above them and actually damaged the beast more than the humans. The robot faltered, and Kiros found an opening. Summoning all his strength, he committed a bloody fury with his daggers and ran with great speed swinging in quick thrusts and arcs at the legs of the beast. Steel met cable and severed them completely. Laguna fired and reloaded multiple clips until finally the hulking beast fell off the cliff and into the sea, a smoking ruin.

The two collapsed to the ground next to the twitching Ward Zabac, all three of them a bloody mess.

It seemed the faeries were done, although the buzzing still emitted a soft tinge. Blood ran into each of their eyes, and Laguna's mouth was filled with it. Blood was coming out of his nose, his ears, even his ass. His whole body ached and was heated it seemed by liquid fire. Kiros was in worser shape, for his back was pretty much split open. The excessive limit break he pulled off at the very end had done him just as bad as the mechanical beast. Yet, life was still in them, and they pulled themselves to an uncomfortable sitting position while still coughing up blood.

They did not want to die.

Never. There was still much to do!

They looked at each other and did not care about whose fault it was, or what could have been done, or what should have been done.

That fucking shit did not matter. It did not fucking matter!

They smiled at seemingly reading each other's thoughts. Laguna's machine gun was out of bullets, and Kiros's daggers were basically useless now. Their eyes caught the bloody anchor that was flung in the corner, and they suddenly panicked. They looked at its owner and panicked some more.

Was he dead?

Laguna didn't feel his back split open some more, and neither did Kiros as they lunged toward him. He was face down in a pile of blood. They gently flipped him over and heard him whimpering. His whole face was smeared in blood, his pupils were dilating, and a nasty cut was sliced in his throat. His vocal chords were severly damaged.

"WARD!!!! Fucking hell!" Laguna yelled.

"I--I--It---" The big man was fighting. He was fighting badly. But more blood came out his mouth, and that was not a good thing.

"Stop, Ward, stop talking." Kiros tried with all his might to calm the man down, for Ward was frightened-- he did not want to die there. "We're here with you. You will not be alone."

Ward, though, could not be stopped. "Was--- fu-fu---fun, y--you guys. It--was--fu-ooh!" He gargled once, and his voice was lost. He was still breathing, but blood still poured freely.

"Shit," Laguna winced, "we must leave immediately."

Kiros hung his head. His brain ached immensely, his stomach was ruptured, his chest was split, and his heart was weakening. "It's over, Laguna, it's over!"

"Fuck no it's not over!!!" Laguna yelled triumphantly and then fell on his ass which hurt a lot more than he expected. His head reeled from the motion, and he felt the world swaying along with him. Would he be seeing Eden so soon? So early? _What about Julia?_ he thought _I promised her!_ Anger flowed through him. He had promised her. He had promised her he would come hear her sing! He was going to..... he was going to. A foghorn from a tugboat blared in the distance, and he vaguely remembered hearing the caws of seagulls. Blinking furiously, he saw that he indeed was on a clifftop and there was the sea. Blinking still more, he saw a small port city down below them.

He had another crazy idea.

He stood up and swayed immensely. Grabbing a shocked and stammering Kiros, he hurled him over the edge. Grabbing a barely breathing Ward, he gently lowered him over the edge. Standing at the edge himself, he knew there was a 95-5 chance of survival and the successful five percent was most likely not in his favor.

Yet, they would die together.

He hurled himself over the edge.

* * *

Squall found himself awake again, and the only thing left over him was a massive headache. Of course, he felt that that was the usual thing occurring for him all the time. He noticed that Selphie had been struck with the same affliction, and this time Quistis had endured the process. Quistis Trepe was absolutely confused, judging by her expression, and she looked to him for help.

Before he spoke, Zell inquired, "Was it Laguna?" His expression of concern struck Squall as being a little funny-looking.

"Yes," Selphie answered for him, "he's in really big trouble. Ward might've died!"

"Oh shit," Zell said, shocked.

Squall glanced at Rinoa, who was very confused and rightfully so. _Why did this have to occur now of all times?_ he thought. Quistis asked the SeeDs, "What is this? That was the most nightmarish thing I've seen!"

_I wish it was just a crazy dream_, Squall thought. "Let's not waste our time with it, I've already informed them that I'll tell the Headmaster about this when we get back. I think this is beyond our comprehension at this point."

Zell, Selphie, and Quistis did not seem to appreciate that statement, but they knew it was far more useless to argue with him.

Squall continued, "I think we rested long enough. The Sun has already moved for three hours."

"The forest should only be a half-hour walk," Quistis said and then led the way into it.

Rinoa walked slowly to Squall and looked sheepish. "I... I think I said too much earlier. I'm sorry."

He waved her off and gave her a look as if to say _Don't worry about it_. She called Angelo to her and entered the forest. Squall stayed behind for several seconds and cursed violently over and over. He felt like he was losing some part of himself again. He was getting tired of that, but he couldn't find a solution to cure that ailment. This particular dream was more vivid and violent, and if he wasn't imagining things he felt himself to be a little drained from the experience his dreamland counterpart experienced.

He felt as if his own body had been torn apart in the Centra Ruins.


	9. Operation Sepulcher

**A/N: **A special midnight mega-upload. Basically, two major events happen in the span of this chapter. The main crux of Chapter Nine was meant to flesh out the dialogue of the Gang of Six. With the introduction of Irvine, the group for the first time is whole and a lethal force. As well, the last half of the chapter features Squall's second Limit Break plus a GF party. What could be better than GFs bloodying things up?

As always, enjoy the read and review as you please

~~~ACJ

* * *

RECONNIASANCE

Heavy purring similar to the droning vibrations of machinery twisting against each other sounded through the dense foliage. Light poured through more easily through the trees, and they were able to see glimpses of desert canyon and bright blue skies. The increasingly loud noises drove their minds into curiosity and temporarily relieved them of their previous hour's awkward silence. The new surroundings seemed particularly inviting. They all rounded a small bend in the pathway and found the source of the sound.

Across the Monterosa Plateau, massive tanks rolled across the rough brown earth in a large formation accompanied by a platoon of manned drones fully loaded with enough weaponry to blow a small fleet to bits in a single sweep. There were several large formations of tanks and their escorts patrolling around the circumference of the red jewel that was Galbadia Garden. Rough estimates would put the total number of drilling troops, whether SeeD or otherwise, at about four thousand. Loud bellowing commands ripped across the land, as officers-in-charge scuttled in their flying cargos over to cadets and certified troops who were slowing the pace. Watchman drones flew everywhere scouting the formations and the paths ahead of them so as to ensure the utmost smoothest sailing. Several of the watchmans immediately pried their attention on the five newcomers and the dog, slowly veering ever their way.

Quistis stepped forward and showed the closest prodding watchman a red badge with some distinctive symbol on it. The watchman hesitated at first and then gave a jerk of a nod towards the campus and flew back to viewing the drilling squads. The former instructor gave Squall a wary look, and he returned it. The militant vibe was intense, and the ground shook with the combined weight and power of the Galbadian might. An assault on the smaller Balamb Garden would crush it within an hour if the chance came to it. As the five of them slowly proceeded down the sharp dusty incline from the forest, their eyes swayed more than once to the hulking red campus.

Galbadia Garden was shaped like a monstrous oval serpent with four dragon's heads, signifying the four compass-noted entryways. The biggest dragon head was in the southern point, and its neck twisted in a sickly arc to a silo in the center. Out of the silo poured a hot ray of light visible as a see-through cone that splattered the sky above it and was surrounded by two golden halos. The campus itself was perched atop three levelled discs that looked like it could disattach itself from the earth and go wandering around the land and then reattach itself somewhere else. No recreational facilities could be seen from the outside; yet, that was probably not the Garden's main concern.

The tanks rolled by them, their rumblings tearing up the worn earth and shaking their composure as they clumsily walked towards the largest dragon head. All of the manned drone pilots watched them sternly enter their domain; they turned their noses up in disgust at the Balamb Garden outfits. Galbadia was a strict by strictness sake school, and every member wore a tight, blazing uniform. Military firepower was the subject-matter of choice, and hardly any magical training was involved behind the bright red doors. Only aggressive magical use would be tolerated, and only in the severest of possibilities. Why stand from afar and pelt a blizzard spell, when you could easily leap into the fray and hack your opponent with a slick machete or fire a gigantic missile that exploded into twelve different deadly missiles hitting twelve different targets at one time?

While Squall and Quistis led the way and were the least perturbed of the situation, the other three were unsettled at drastic stances. Angelo stayed close to Rinoa so much, he almost tripped her by walking through her legs. Zell was caught in a struggle of nervousness and his own boyish tendencies to fight back against the oppressive machines. Selphie was just wanting to end the experience. The watchman drones had signalled through their earpieces that a rotten smell had infiltrated their quarters, and the five of them encountered the head staff of the Garden waiting for them by the southern entrance. Faces blank and hollow gazed upon them as they trudged their way up the levelled platforms. Each of the staff carried a nasty weapon on their belts and looked ready to use it right then and there.

Quistis stepped forward and stated her name, rank, and number and showed the badge again as proof. Trying to sound authoritative, she came off as slightly more than timid given the circumstances. They slowly acknowledged the greeting. The highest rank motioned for her to follow him, while the subordinates motioned the others to follow them. The silence amongst them mirrored what was on the inside. Through the doors, the walls were so thick they drowned the sounds of the outside world completely and no air circulated freely through the corridors of the campus. Their bodies immediately reacted to the stiffness, and they forced themselves to follow the staff through the prison-like chambers. They passed few people along the way who were mostly drilling in the corner or stretching against a wall. Every facet of the campus seemed prepared for a military strike. Zell's complexion seemed to grow whiter and whiter.

Up the stairs they were led and around the corner. The staff opened a door and ushered them inside. They were told to wait.

The doors slid shut, and the four of them looked at each before taking in the surroundings. The room was cozy enough to offset the mountainous pressure and contained two armchairs and a sofa. It looked to be an instructor's lounge but not much of a lounge environment. A large window bookended by tapestries showed the relentless march of the tanks streaming by. Zell took an armchair, Selphie inspected the window carefully, and Rinoa and Angelo curled up on the sofa. Silence prevailed them, and Squall could do nothing but bask in it. The Garden was recklessly militaristic, but it was not filled with accoutrements that bugged the crap out of him so much at Balamb. Still, the air was too heavy to be taken as a good thing. He actually wondered if the President was going to order a unilateral attack.

"This is so completely different," Selphie noted queasily, "they have no life."

"It's too quiet here," Zell said, shaking. He was clenching his fists so tight, his knuckles were going white.

"Quistis apparantly knows the ins and outs of this place," Rinoa said.

"She's been to meetings here," Squall replied. "It shouldn't be too long now."

The words weren't out of his mouth by the time the door opened. She looked more relieved than all four of them combined. "Faster than I thought."

Zell bounced up, flipping the chair on its back, and swayed from the sudden movement. His eyes were all aglow, and he had a hard time forming words. He wanted to explain himself, but he couldn't. Yet Quistis seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, and she put her hand on his shoulder to steady him. "The Garden is safe."

Everyone did a double-take, and Zell relaxed his taut shoulders as if he was taking a strapped boulder off of them. He picked the chair back up and sat down in it, seemingly at peace once again. Though, his face looked a bit puzzled. So did the others.

Quistis walked to the wall with the tapestries. "The headmaster of this Garden was a stern but understanding man at least. His staff took me up to his office, and he dropped everything he was doing at the time and focused on our situation. Quite impressive, actually. He said the mood in here has changed since our entrance, so it won't be so deafeningly hollow in here anymore."

"How so?" Squall asked skeptically.

"Well, they recognized immediately that we were from Balamb, and they were sort of content with giving us the silent treatment. Anyway, Martine, the headmaster here, understands our situation perfectly. The attack on Vinzer Deling was classified as an independent action, and the President himself has ordered any consequences on us to be null and void. However much they would like to obliterate our Garden has been deemed inappropriate concerning far broader matters in the political sphere. By all intents and purposes, we have dodged a bullet in my book." She sat on the sofa next to Angelo's head and played with his ears.

The room became a much calmer silence among them, yet Squall remained slightly uneasy. This latest revelation seemed absurd to him, but he would gladly accept it nonetheless. The President had something concealed behind it all, he just knew it. Unlike Selphie's wild imagination, Squall didn't think the President had a true peace proposal in mind.

Zell decided to break the silence. "Seifer's taking all the blame?"

The question hung in the air, for Quistis did not immediately choose to answer. Her eyes begat an expression that was shocked at the news she contained within her, news that she did not agree with. The calm silence shifted dramatically into more painful silence, and all eyes were on her. She finally sighed and replied, "The trial is over, and the sentence has been carried out."

Even Squall managed a triple-take. He knew this would happen, but he did not expect it to _actually_ happen. When she gave the statement, he was in the process of reaching his hand up to scratch his chin; his hand froze in mid-air and did not drop for several minutes. Nobody else was aware of that, for Zell, Selphie, and Rinoa were wide-eyed and paralyzed in their positions. Zell wet his lips for words, but none came forward to aid him.

Rinoa was the first to budge, but she was forced to bow her head. Her voice was heavy when she spoke. "He was... executed?"

Quistis felt the pink-toned brunette's eyes on her, and the former instructed searched for some reply that sounded more authoritative and compelling, but she was met with none to rely on. She only nodded slightly.

Rinoa's mind went blank, and she drifted as if on a cloud. _How could this be?_ she thought _Why would something like this happen?_ "I guess... I guess this had to be the final outcome. He attacked the President, and the punishment for that.... is always death." She looked about ready to cry.

Squall remembered suddenly that she and Seifer had known each other before, and the most apparant thing was that they might have been dating in the process. He looked away and to the window for he wasn't keen so much on the thought on losing loved ones. Having no vivid experience in that department didn't seem to ring in the tissue experience for him. He was much more concerned with the fact of the death as a business matter. Was he truly dead? If so, his life would be a lot more at ease and less filled with headaches.

Rinoa's disturbing sigh brought all of their eyes on her. "He sacrificed himself for the Forest Owls. For us."

"That I disagree with," Quistis said, ignoring Rinoa's shocked look. "It was your group that got him involved in this debacle."

"Yeah, bu--"

"You are a part of a resistance group, right? Your job is to prepare for the worst. So some chemistry builds between you two that becomes a part of the faction, that's fine and all, but both of you knew exactly the dangerous consequences of involving yourselves in those missions. Just like us in SeeD, we must prepare everyday for the fate that awaits us, even if today may be our last. Seifer was prepared to the fullest, I'm sure of it! Don't think he did this act, because he was sacrificing himself for you." The last sentence was barely out of her mouth, before she regretted saying it. It caused her as much hurt as Rinoa's pained face now showed. Quickly, Quistis added, "I'm sorry. I... I guess that wasn't much consolation."

Rinoa's crestfallen face was too heavy to hold up, so she rested it on her chest and clasped her arms around her legs. Her loyal furry companion whined sadly and nuzzled against her body, trying to cheer her up. The room remained heavy and depressing, and outside military calls continued to echo and reverberate against the walls of the campus compound. The aura was highly unpleasant.

"Man," Zell sighed. His face was very sad, which was unusual given the person that they were talking about. "I did not like the guy, but executed?"

"You didn't like him at all, huh Zell?" Selphie slowly stated.

"No. But... he was from Garden, and he was a roommate of mine along with Squall. I've known the guy for eight years." He gripped the arms of the chair tightly. "If I can, I want to get revenge on that legal system."

Squall silently scoffed at that triviality. Like hell the system would tolerate a tattooed energetic punk coming to take them down with only his mighty fists. Squall had to suppress a laugh so badly that he bit his tongue. Tasting blood, he was thankful the other four were completely consumed in their thoughts.

Quistis sighed dramatically and shook her head. "I've known that boy for far too long myself. I don't have any good memories of him in my head. He was the most troubled youth I think I've ever seen, although maybe... just maybe he wasn't totally one hundred percent a bad guy."

"Maybe just ninty-nine percent?" Selphie asked, forming a small smile.

Quistis showed a little one, too. "Maybe. Perhaps. He acted whatever and whenever he wanted to. All the time. That kind of commitment requires a great deal of courage to say the least. I think I'd like to talk to him, though, one last time before they'd... they'd..." She let the last bit of the sentence wander off, as the imagery enveloped the reality.

Rinoa sighed again. "I really liked him a lot." They noticed that she had been steadily streaming tears out of the corner of her eyes. She wiped them away slowly, sniffed her nose, and then continued. "He didn't seem so arrogant, as you all might think him to be. He was smart and full of confidence, and he just seemed so interested in our group and Timber in general. The way he..." she paused again, looking away at a far-off time when he first spoke to her "the way he talked always invigorated me. I felt that I could take on the entire world. He carried himself so brilliantly, so lo---so,er...".

Zell had attempted to before Seifer had cut him off, but Selphie made the blunt statement. "Was he your boyfriend?"

_Boyfriend._ The word clung at her heart. She stretched out her legs again and looked at each of them one at a time. Squall's face was geared toward the window, and she didn't spend too much time searching for it. "I don't know if you could call him that. Yet, I think I was in love. I think he was attracted. I always wonder if he was ever truly serious."

"Do you still like him?"

"If I didn't I wouldn't be talking about it." Vaguely looking in Selphie's direction, Rinoa slowly panned away to that far-off day when she and Zone had gone into the Timber liquor store to celebrate the group's first resistance tour. "It was last summer," she heard herself saying. His young face that had not been scarred yet came into view. He had been holding an expensive bottle in his hand, and his eyes had sparkled when she saw them. "I was sixteen then. Lots of fond memories come back to me now." She wouldn't say anything more.

Squall had had enough. All this fucking bullshit! Even watching the tanks plow by through the window grew irritating. Their conversation had evolved into the most absurd obituary he had ever heard. He had known Seifer for eight years as well, and every time he saw the guy his blood would boil over and things would get unnerving afterwards. It was always an instigation that always led to a castigation from others. Seifer, the taller and brasher cadet, would always lambast and lampoon him whenever they crossed paths.

But look at this! _I liked him... he wasn't really a bad guy... he was one of us... if I can, I want to get to revenge._ Squall shook his head. Their pathetic remarks and their pathetic reminisces regarded Seifer already as a distant memory, a long forgotten page of history. A chapter in time that was explosive in its content but now enamored in the halls of fame and anti-hero glory. The damn man was only dead for a day!

_Would death always be like this?_ Now, Squall's mind was racing. _Would the survivors and the people who knew you immediately refer to you in the past tense right over your very deathbed without a care in the world to what you were thinking at the time? Without a care to what you may be thinking now, as you're passing through the levels of time and space, from the land of the living to the void of the dead?_ To hear their voices churning away all the disgusting melancholy theatrics and the maudlin fake suffering being deployed among them sickened him to no end. Knowing Seifer like the back of his hand, he knew without a doubt that the blond-haired man was anti-emphatic to anyone, including his own self. How silly he must think currently right this minute that the people he knew on this earth were treating him so irreverently.

_Will they talk about me this way if I die, too?_

That thought scared the piss out of him. He didn't realize that he turned his back on them, and he didn't realize that he had missed his footing from the slow pacing around he had been doing, and he rammed his foot into the leg of a desk table.

He vaguely heard Quistis address him. She had asked something along the lines of what is wrong? or why are you clenchin your fists? or something like that. An ire enveloped him. He was not going to have the same fate as Seifer and be talked about in the past tense. He whirled around with a great fury that staggered all four of them back. "I won't have it!!!" he yelled triumphantly.

"W-W-W-What?" Zell asked, frightened a little bit.

The gunblade shook on his belt, and the experienced wielder clenched his gloved fist ever so tightly. He could tell he looked hysterical at that moment; their shocked faces expressed that without a doubt. But he was beside himself, there was no stopping it. "I won't have anyone talk about me in the past tense! Ever!!" He violently turned and exited the room, not waiting to hear their requests for an explanation.

Zell stumbled for words and almost stumbled from his swaying. Finally, he managed, "What did we do?!!"

Rinoa was shocked by the sudden and unexpected outburst from the SeeD member she originally thought to be the most composed of the lot. He seemed cold in certain situations, but he had a fighting style that was similar to Seifer's but calculated in his own meticulous method. She had thought Squall to be the collected navigator of the group. Perhaps, there was more to Squall's and Seifer's relationship than she knew about.

"My goodness," Selphie said, slowly rubbing her temples and coming to Quistis's side. "Did you expect that?"

"Hell no!" Zell chimed in. "What was that all about?"

"I think," Quistis managed to say, "all our talk about Seifer was bothering him a bit."

"That's irrelevant."

"No, not really." She got up, and now they all stood up. "They sparred constantly. Our school had never had such a fierce rivalry before. They gave each other constant battlescars all the time, but the ones on their faces was the most permanent of them all. Quite telling of their feelings for one another. Things are deeper between them than most people know about."

"Like brothers?"

"Ha! Brothers fight, but they're like mortal enemies!" Selphie said. She had heard a lot of the stories about them from her friends. It seemed as if not a day went by when their gunblades didn't sound off.

"So who started them?" Rinoa asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Always Seifer," Quistis answered sighing.

"No way."

"I'm afraid he did, Rinoa. Squall is never the type of person to just randomly assault someone. The most logical thing for him to do, though, would have been to ignore Seifer, but that seemed never a viable option to him."

"I've seen him fly off the handle on occasion, but he's not the monster you're describing him to be."

"I never called him a monster. I'm only saying that he's got some problems."

Rinoa looked hurt by that, but Selphie stopped the conversation. "What do we do now?"

"This..." Quistis paused, for she was at a loss for a conclusion. "We should just ignore it."

"Bull," Zell declared, "this situation needs some more explanation!"

"Of course it does, but now's not the time nor the place! When we see him, let's forget it all and move on with the Headmaster's request."

"The Headmaster has a request?"

"Yes, I meant to mention, but...er... you know." She fidgeted with her dress. "Let's just go find Squall."

The other three reluctantly nodded and slowly walked out of the room.

* * *

His mind was shifting through a kaleidoscope of thoughts, and he steadied his grip on the staircase railing and steadied his gait down the stairs. The sounds of his shoes irritated his brain, but he soon calmed his nerves and his rapidly beating heart. He felt like a goddamn fool for freaking out like that. He could not believe that he did that, yet the realization nagged him over and over again. Deemed the Squad Leader, he looked hardly the part of that title at that moment.

At the foot of the stairs, he finally felt relaxed, and he leaned against the railing and took in the sight. It seemed an unusual transition from before: there were students everywhere now. Black-clad SeeDs, military officers, and students roamed the halls in soft whispering voices, books clung to their chests, and walking in the most formal gait he had ever seen. Drills and physical exercises were now more rampant than ever, and squads of students were commencing push-ups, sit-ups, and drill-jogging around the corridors. Nobody paid any attention to him, too, and everyone who spoke in a soft whisper were talking about drills, school assignments, or highly fascistic political drivel that concerned Galbadia mostly. The atmosphere was most unsettling to Squall, and he had to walk around to shake off the atrocious dichotomy.

He walked out of a snaking corridor and across the vast circular commons area, treading conciously by the streams of people commencing their daily business. A food bar that served as the Garden's cafeteria designation attracted him for their was a money bank nearby. He strode up to it and took out his colorless ID card and swiped it through. He was surprised that he wasn't charged with a fee or a surtax, and he was doubly surprised to find that his SeeD level had increased by two. He was now a Level 12 ambassador, and he now earned ten thousand gil per week. His account now was worth twenty thousand gil. Enough to afford a small car, if he wished.

He returned the card to his wallet and went to a bench and sat down. He was hungry, but he was pissed, and the anger engulfed his hunger, and he rested his head in his hands. Some leader he was. Getting all pissy and bent out of shape. He recognized that each of them knew Seifer in almost the same light, except for Rinoa. The resistance fighter seemed to deny that the guy was anything but mentally insane half of the time. He wondered, though, if his own personal relationship with Seifer had gotten in the way of his judgment. He wanted to answer that question, but he got distracted.

There were two pairs of boots in front of him. When he craned his neck up, he frowned instantly and the two newcomers chuckled. Fujin and Raijin-- Seifer's old buddies.

Raijin gave a boyish laugh and folded his arms across his chest. "Well, if it isn't Squall Leonhart." Dressed rather provocatively in a small blue vest that did nothing to cover up his exposed dark muscular chest, he seemed to enjoy the stares he acquired from the ladies. Fujin, as always, never wore anything else except her light blue bodysuit and the patch over her left eye. She gave a small jerk of her head letting the silver hair fly a little, and she didn't acknowledge him in words.

Squall was highly unimpressed and very confused as to how they managed to get here. "The trains have been shut down for some time. What are you doing here?"

Raijin seemed shocked. "What I'm doing here? You're not happy to see me?"

"I'd rather see a doctor for a lobotomy."

"Damn, man. Hey, I'm just a messenger, you know." He and Fujin exchanged a small wink. "Brought you new orders straight from Headmaster Cid, you know."

"New orders?"

"Yeah, super-secret orders, man. I gave them to the head honcho here, just got finished with it, too. Exactly as Headmaster Cid wanted to, you know?" He and Fujin exchanged another wink. It wasn't the least bit subtle.

Squall was giving them both an expression that clearly made them feel uncomfortable, but the SeeD knew that something was afoot. For one thing, they were SeeD candidate failures and they relied on Seifer hand over fist; they were not to be trusted all the way. "What did the orders say?"

"Dunno."

"The fuck do you mean you don't know?"

Raijin stepped back a bit. Squall's negative aura was too imposing, even though the burly man figured he could bust him up in a fight. "Look man, just following orders, ya know. A messenger can't even look at his own message, ya know."

"That's not what a messenger is."

"Well..."

"EXPLAIN," said Fujin's monotone. She seemed on the verge of falling asleep, no doubt bored with the men's back-and-forth.

"Alright," Raijin obeyed, "we broke Seifer out of the 'Trouble Quarters' as the Guardians called them, trapped one of them in a corner and watched Seifer brutally execute him-- although I do have to say it was mighty cool to watch, ya know-- and then allowed him to escape the Garden unnoticed. Too bad Quistis found out about. She was always one step ahead of the rest."

"And?" Squall asked.

"And the, see, here's the strange thing, ya know. We were suppose ta go ta Timber, ya know? But the damn trains were stopped! So we sort of... zigzagged our way over here. Boy, are we happy to see you guys over here, right?" He and Fujin gave another wink to each other.

"SEIFER!"

"Oh, yeah Seifer went to Timber to find you guys. He's here right?"

"No."

"Wha--"

"He's dead."

"Bullshit!" The comment was too loud, and Fujin kicked the back of his leg forcing him to apologize for the rudeness. Fujin, as well, made a little sound that sounded like a gasp, but Squall wasn't sure if it was.

Raijin composed himself and said, "No way, man."

Squall looked at both of them and replied, "There was an incident at Timber, and he messed with the wrong people this time around. Headmaster Cid wasn't around to bail him out, and he's... bitten the bullet."

"LIES," Fujin looked ready to wail on him, but she held herself back. Her lone eye looked ready to bulge out of its socket.

"There's no way Seifer is dead," Raijin laughed to Fujin's shocked expression, "he would never put up with a trial, you know. He'd blow them all away with a machine gun first before that'd happen! Ha! He's probably in Deling City right now, laying low!"

Fujin made another sound and then said, "FIND!"

Raijin stumbled. "Oh, we're gonna meet up with Seifer. Cool beans! See ya, Squall!"

He watched the two of them speed off, knocking some kids over, and ignoring the calls from the military officers. Shaking his head, he could not help but be slightly perturbed by their words. First off, they were lying fair and simply: Seifer could not survive the entire Galbadian force no matter how crazily he fought. Secondly, if he _was_ lying in wait in Deling City, that huge metropolis could easily snuff him out. It wouldn't take long to do either. Yet, whenever his motley Disciplinary members were so sure of themselves, Squall knew trouble was afoot.

Squall managed to get up and stretch his back. The hunger was momentarily gone, but he was still depressed and irritated. The intercom buzzed off, scaring the crap out of him. Why did the klaxon have to be so damn loud? Apparantly, the Headmaster was going to meet them outside on the deck. _Great,_ he thought. Just what he needed at the moment. The southern dragon head entrance was very close to where he was, and when he turned toward it he saw Quistis waiting for him by the turnstiles. She was watching him curiously.

He hoped the spastic episode earlier had dissipated from everyone's minds, and when he approached her he was glad that that was not the first thing she brought up. "You heard the announcement?" she asked.

"Yeah, Headmaster Martine is coming out?"

"On the front deck, the other's are already waiting."

"Good, let's go," he said nonchalantly, and she followed him through the entrance and back across the three-tiered deck of Galbadia Garden. The Sun was about stretched into its four o clock stage and a few heavy clouds were perched to the northwest in the general direction of Deling City. The military processions were packing up for the day and preparing to enter the western and eastern gates to shutter down everybody for evening classes. The sight of the massive tanks and aerial gunners were sickening to watch. Zell was pacing back and forth frantically, hating the wait the Headmaster was putting them through again. Selphie had her hands clasped behind her back and singing a little song. Rinoa sat on the railing of a metal wall, looking at her toes with Angelo close by panting furiously-- the humidity was pretty bad at the moment. Quistis joined Zell with the pacing, and she began to grow irritated with the unnecessary waiting.

Rinoa motioned to the back. "That might be him right now."

They all looked to see a fancy Galbadian vehicle pull up with some nice rims and a sleek shine. It pulled up next to them, and Squall was visibly irritated at the pompousness of the scene. The Headmaster got out of the car and crisply walked towards them with his hands behind his back. He was a tall individual with short blond hair and an impeccably dressed Galbadian uniform that looked slightly similar to Balamb Garden's wear.

Rinoa came to Squall's side and tugged at his jacket. "Pretend I'm a SeeD, too, so nothing looks suspicious." She waited for a reply from him, but saw that he looked confused by her suggestion. "Please?"

He grunted in response, and she took that as a yes and joined their formation of five in a line that stood before the Headmaster. The line consisted of Zell on the left-most end, Quistis to his right, Selphie to her right, and Squall to her right. The four of them were relaxed in their resting stance. Rinoa, to Squall's right, seemed a bit nervous in hers. Once the Headmaster got a couple feet in front of them, the SeeDs snapped to attention and saluted. Out of the corner of his eye, Squall saw Rinoa fumble with the process but the Headmaster did not seem to notice.

"Greetings and at ease," he said in a rich deep voice. "To dispense with the protocol, I am Martine, Garden Master of Galbadia Garden, and I am pleased to accept the extended hand of your Garden's Headmaster Cid Kramer for assistance. This is an unusual but welcome gesture on the part of our two Garden's relationships, and I find the whole matter relatively amusing. After careful consideration of looking through all the paperwork and taking into account the recent activities and events that have happened within the last month, I am ready to begin this assignment.

"To be honest, our own school's assignees have been involved heavily in the particulars of this plan, and we have made some great strides within it. However, the current situation calls for more than just drastic measures, it calls for a whole shebang. Let me first brief you on the current situation. You know some of the details from your activities in Timber, but that is only the tip of the iceberg. What lies beneath the cold, cold waters is far more deadly than a simple poking obstruction."

With Martine's back toward him for the moment-- he was pacing in front of them-- Squall rolled his eyes. High falutin authoritarians bugged the shit out of him. Plus, if Galbadia Garden was aware of the particulars before they came along, why the fuck were they needed for this operation?

Martine continued, clearing his throat with a grand gesture. "As you know, Galbadia and Deling are now currently conjoined into Westonia, but to be honest that merger has been completed for about two months now. The evidence of that is preserved in the economic passing of money swaps, which have now become highly digital via Deling City's newfangled central banking system. The speech of Deling's was merely meant for showboating and offered no substance in the mix. Yet, the biggest component of substance in his speech dealt with his new appointee for the ambassador at the world economic forum in the DeWeltzer district of Deling City scheduled for a few weeks from now. I'm sure you all know that it is the Sorceress Edea who has been appointed as the ambassador, completely drowning out the competition. Even though certain senators in the Galbadian Congress balked at the announcement, the semantics went through.

"It is quite odd to have a Sorceress in this day and age, but she has long been a public figure in the Galbadian government, left over from the previous decade's business dealings with Trabia. She was a low-level Sorceress at the time, but recent transactions have risen her to the top of the food chain, and Deling personally chose her and has not given a complete reason as to why. However, do not be fooled! This appointment is a ploy. At the world economic forum, there are supposed to be peace talks opening up between the nations and a possible rebirthing of the lost city of Esthar. None of that will transpire, though.

"Only threats and duress will arise from this meeting. The Sorceress represents a malingering threat to every nation on this earth, especially Esthar. The Estharians have had a long and horrible relationship with the witches, and the presence of one at the table is almost sure to end in gerrymandering. Fear will easily transpire among the leaders of the various nations, and talks of peace will become impossible soon after. The real aim of this forum is for Vinzer Deling to obtain world domination. The country and continent of Deling was able to be worked under the thumb, and General Rafeal Carroway was able to be suckered into a useless position so easily that Westonia was hardly impossible to muster. The rest of the world will fall like dominos in the same pattern.

"The talks between Deling and Carroway happened here at this Garden. It is here where the mission takes a personal stance. Sorceress Edea plans to use this Garden as her base in the coming months, working it over to her best wishes. This leaves us with very few options. Don't misconstrue this, though, as you being guinea pigs to a slaughter. We at Galbadia Garden are entrusting world peace and the future to you, the stalwarts of Balamb Garden!"

The four SeeDs snapped to a crisp salute out of sheer ingrained training. Rinoa was caught for a split second off guard, before she did the same move a lot less crisply. Even though it appeared Martine caught her bluff, he did not reprimand her or acknowledge her in any way. Instead he looked directly at Squall. "Details of the mission are enclosed in this pamphlet. I entrust you, Squadron Leader, with the utmost authority to carry them out." He handed Squall the details, and the SeeD carefully looked them over. "Any questions?" Martine asked sincerely.

One question glared out at him abruptly.

"The instructions include the position of a 'sniper'." He was aware of four pairs of eyes looking at him. "We have no one on our team capable of that skill."

Martine knowingly nodded. "Not to worry, Mr. Leonhart. It just so happens, I have a viable candidate." He turned around as if expecting that particular person to be right beside him. He was disappointed. Angrily, he shouted, "Kinneas! Irvine Kinneas!!"

The five of them looked around but didn't see anyone. However, they heard rustling and turned to where Rinoa had been leaning against the railing. A tall man in a brown duster and black fedora slowly stood up and stretched. He had a shotgun out at the ready and looked like he had been playing with the chamber. He holstered it and turned around. This Kinneas guy had a young boyish face with green eyes and long auburn hair tied in a ponytail. He was a handsome guy but completely wrapped up in a fairytale western novel. His brown duster trenchcoat reached down past his knees, his purple vest looked bulletproof, and he had knee-high brown boots with a custom chain on the back of them. He looked ready to rustle up some cattle... or some of Selphie and Rinoa by the way he was eyeing them.

Squall could immediately feel Zell's dislike of him, judging from the brawler's contorted body language. The girls didn't seem to think too highly of him either, although these were first impressions. This Irvine guy strutted out from the grass in front of them, ignoring Martine's annoyed look and he surveyed each of them in turn, as if he were sizing up the competition.

Martine sighed. "This is Irvine Kinneas, Galbadia Garden's finest sharpshooter." He watched the five of them give the cowboy a lookover, and then added. "Proceed to Deling City whenever you're ready. General Carroway will be expecting you all at least before eight o clock. Be safe on your journey." He about-faced and headed for his car. Starting the engine up, it roared to a deafening life and he presumed on to his private entrance. Irvine watched him go and then cocked his wrist toward him and made a pretend blast like a shotgun in Martine's general direction. Squall figured he had some angst to let out.

He wasn't at all fascinated with the cowboy and doubted his four companions were as well. Instead, he focused back on the plans at hand and didn't hear Irvine address the group. "So... looks like a merry bunch of people I'm working with here, eh?"

"Who're calling 'merry'?" Zell demanded.

"Well, 'merry' in my book means a swell kind of people, my good sir. I need to know some names, though, if ya don't mind."

"Tch," the brawler snorted not trusting the guy at all.

"Don't mind him," Quistis said, nudging Zell in the ribs, "he gets a little energetic sometimes."

"I say things that get a rise out of people," Irvine replied, "it comes with the territory."

"Well, then, I'm Quistis, a former instructor turned SeeD member, Mr. Irvine."

"Oh, call me just 'Irvine', darlin."

"Hm, great. Well here's Selphie, a nunchaku expert. There's Rinoa, a resistance member with a great heart, and this guy is Zell. He's a martial artist."

The brawler didn't reply to that.

Irvine didn't either, but he took keen interest in the two shapely woman he had been introduced to. However, he was forced to avert his gaze for there was a fifth person whom he did not know. The scar-faced guy reading the instructions ever so diligently. He seemed cold a bit and way too fucking serious. "Who's the reader?"

Quistis smiled. "That's Squall, our Squad Leader."

Squall didn't look up. He had barely heard the conversation, for the words on this paper made more intrigue for him than he cared for. The only time he got distracted was when Irvine bumped the bottom of the paper toward Squall's face, and he finally looked at the cowboy who had dumb little grin on his face. "What's up, Leader?"

Squall did not reply, giving him a terse glance. He walked past him and simply ignored the entire thing altogether. He waved the assignment in the air and said, "This is a direct order from Balamb and Galbadia."

Everyone except Irvine leaned closer, interested. Squall continued, "We're to assassinate the sorceress."

Everyone except Irvine gasped in response. It seemed as if Irvine was now ignoring the conversation, although he was still listening unbeknownst to Squall.

"We're to go to Deling City and meet up with General Carroway at his mansion." He was aware of Rinoa flinching a little. "However, this paper clearly states that we have to kill Edea. Irvine Kinneas here is the man who fires the shot. Should he fail to hit the target, we as SeeD will rush in to form a second strike."

Irvine turned to Squall. "Thanks for the appreciation, but I never miss my mark."

"Then there shouldn't be a problem." His reply was terse and to-the-point that threw the other five in a loop. "Does everyone understand what we must do?" They all nodded in response, and he nodded as well. "Well, let's get going. We have to be at his place within four hours."

"One thing," Irvine asked.

Squall did not reply, but he cocked his eyebrow in the cowboy's direction.

"We should split up to get to the train station, even though it's only a short distance. Don't want to give off the impression that we're leaving the campus as a whole, right? Look kinda suspicious."

The idea was clear, and Squall knew who he wanted to take. Selphie and Rinoa knew as well. "I think we'll be fine leaving in six instead of three, don't you, Kinneas?"

Irvine scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I think so too."

_United at six,_

_After much introduction_

_The story begins :)_

The train station was a small island in the middle of the vast orangish plateau near the northeastern side of the Garden, and it wasn't much of a walk at all. Given the political circumstances, there was only one train set for takeoff, and it was a small one. It was probably arranged just so by the orders of Martine and Carroway, and Squall thought nothing else of it. The new member of the party was oblivious to the cold penetrating looks from the brawler and the former instructor, for he couldn't stop admiring the backsides of the other two girls. The dark-haired girl in the blue dress was an eyecandy, but he was much more fascinated with the spunky little angel in the yellow dress. It was as if he had already known who she was, before the girl named Quistis had introduced them. The cowboy thought it was the most strangest yet most delightful thing he had come across all day. While he thought all three of the girls were attractive, he couldn't help but notice animosity from the small blond boy named Zell with that hideous tattoo on his face, and he couldn't help but notice the sheer calculated coldness of the man named Squall. Something inside him told him there was more than meets the eye here.

Only a couple people were milling around the train station, and there was no conductor present to hand over one or three thousand gil a piece to board the train. All six of them and the dog boarded the train and were surprised to see the doors close up behind them, and the locomotive rolled to steam and steadily pulled out of the zone. Squall figured it was a thoroughly planned performance, and he wondered if any surprises were truly in store for them in Deling City-- Raijin's comments had been eating away at him ever since their meeting. He noticed Selphie behind him edging toward the hallway, and he quickly swiped the access door key to open it.

She beamed at him for catching on to her harassment, and she barreled down the hallway to take her spot at the railing.

A sigh caught his attention, and Squall turned to see Irvine with a bemoaning expression on his face. Except it looked like he was thinking about something. He muttered something under his breath that Squall thought sounded like "fate" or something, and the cowboy went to follow Selphie. Squall stood where he was for several seconds, before he saw Rinoa's cold eyes on him. "What?"

"That guy's a little put on, don't you think?" Angelo followed her up with a bark of approval.

"Yeah, the hell does he think he is?" Zell concurred, crouching to his knees and looking ready to hit something.

Squall looked at each of them in turn and noticed, in particular, Quistis's frowning face and shrugged his shoulders. "The hell do you want me to do!"

Rinoa turned on him. "Go in there, and see what he's doing!"

"Why me?"

"You're the leader! What dya think?"

He looked at Zell and Quistis, but they had found something interesting to look at on the floor--- even though there was nothing there when he looked. He looked back at Rinoa, whose frown kept deepening and deepening, and he sighed and went through the door. He didn't get far, because the two of them were very close together by the railing. Selphie had a perplexed but not disinterested expression on her face, and her arms were tightly wrapped around the metal railing. Irvine was leaning in close and touching the brim of his fedora and not paying attention to Squall's presence in the hallway.

"C'mon, Selphie, we're destined to be together. It's the most blessing Eden has given in a long time."

"R-Right, Irvine," she replied, not looking at him. Squall vaguely thought that she believed him for a second. She was after all trying to concentrate on the outside scenery. She gave a nervous giggle and then a short sigh.

Irvine caught it and asked, "A sigh of love?"

She turned to him fast and tried to act as stern as Quistis would have. "No, I'm only sighing because I'm tired."

Irvine's eyes shot up and took in Squall for the first time. The Squad Leader had an unamused face, and he looked ready to wail on both of them. The cowboy decided it was time to leave, tipped his hat toward Selphie, and attempted to get by Squall.

Unfortunately, Squall didn't budge. "Is there a problem here, Irvine?"

"None at all, Mr. Leader, just in here enjoying the day as usual." He indicated the door.

Squall stayed put for several seconds before making a small breathing space for him to scoot by. When he was gone, Squall looked at Selphie and was actually shocked to see her so silent. He walked slowly up to her, and she spoke before he could, "My heart is pounding."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing. I just.... when I first saw him... it was like...er... like I knew who he was or something. What could this mean?"

Squall shrugged. The mission was probably bugging her, and the sharpshooter was just egging it on. "The stress of the moment is getting to you."

She thought that was partially true, and she didn't comment further. Sensing that things seemed at least normal, Squall went back to hopefully a more relaxed normality so he could look over the papers some more. However, Irvine's presence in the lobby room was causing friction again. Squall entered the room and found Zell in a combat stance. Squall smacked himself in the forehead for being so naive.

"Irvine Kinneas!" Quistis shouted. "You're an important asset to this mission, and we cannot have you fooling around all the time!"

"Squall!" Rinoa shouted at him. "This man keeps hitting on me."

_Son of a fucking bitch,_ Squall thought. "The train ride is only an hour, people, can't we get some quiet time here for a while."

"I'll put some quiet time on this guy's ass," Zell snorted smacking his fists together and just about ready to tackle a bemused Irvine to the ground.

Irvine looked at Squall first and then the rest of them before putting up his hands in defense. "You all don't understand about sharpshooters like us."

Squall rolled his eyes and strayed close to the door. Pitiness was hardly what he wanted to hear at this point.

Irvine continued. "We're loners by nature, honing all our instincts into a single bullet. Far away from the competition, far away from reality in general. Sometimes, it transcends reality and distorts all that makes us human. When the time comes for the task to be completed, we're calm in the beginning, stressed at the moment of fire, and calm at the end. All of that, I face on my own. So.... if you please, do me a favor and let me be. Is that all right with you all?"

When no one answered, he turned to Squall who gave him a look of disbelief. Zell answered with a smash of his fist into the floor that almost knocked the boards out. A large vibration echoed through the train but, fortunately, did not destabilize it. They all laughed at the conductor's befuddled remark over the intercom.

The damage to the train forced the conductor to make the trip in less than an hour, and before they knew it the team had pulled into Deling City. Or the outskirts of it. The size of the metropolis was massive, and all the train depots were located on the outside wall. Rinoa Heartilly felt much better than before, and Squall seemed to think that she was itching to lead the way throughout the city. She was the first one off and the first one down by the edge of the station hailing a double-decker bus for them. They would need to use one of those just to navigate through the city's twelve southern districts to get to the central mainland where General Carroway was residing.

A throat cleared behind them, and they turned to see an old watchman in a dapper military uniform coming to meet them. He figured that Squall was rightfully the leader of the group, and he went to shake his hand. Squall reluctantly shook it and wondered what was going on. The old guard first looked at Rinoa with a knowing look and then said, "I don't mean to disturb you all at this moment, concerning the important duty you have to do tonight, but there is a small excursion you must undertake."

Rinoa suddenly huffed, causing the others to look. "What is _he_ making you do now, Maurice?"

Zell and Quistis widened their eyes at her, and Squall did not like where this was heading.

The guard who was apparantly named Maurice replied, "Rinoa, dear, General Carroway has had at least sixty assassination attempts this month alone, since his dealings with the Galbadian government. After Deling's announcement yesterday, Carroway suffered a fractured spine from a car bomb at the Metallic Cafe on 51st Street, the area thought to be the most safest area of all of Deling City!"

Rinoa looked vaguely sympatheic.

Squall frowned at Maurice. "The papers say a massive parade is being launched at midnight tonight, and..." he lowered his voice so nobody in the station could hear directly "we are supposed to assassinate Edea."

"Quite right there, son, but not just anybody can go up to Mr. Carroway as if you all were his friend." He looked at Rinoa for a second and then continued. "It really has some significant meaning."

"He has been informed of our arrival," Squall said.

"Yes, indeed he has." Maurice pulled out a pamplet from his coat and opened it, revealing a yellow piece of paper. "Rinoa, do you verify this as the General's signature?"

She reluctantly looked at it and saw the familiar loopy writ. She nodded.

Maurice cleared his throat and read, "'To those students wishing to see me at this present stage, I ask that they perform a specific task before we can all meet at my residence. It is dubbed, Operation Sepulchur, and it must be followed accordingly. A couple miles northeast of our great city lies the Tomb of the Unknown King, and in it the Unknown King lies buried in the center of the tomb. Whosoever brings back the code number of the King's chest, braving the guardians along the way, can be admitted into my household. Signed, General Rafeal Carroway XXIII.' And there you have it."

"Operation Sepulchur," Squall said drably. "There's no other way around it."

"I am sorry, sir. There have been too many incidents of late. He prefers your arrival at exactly twenty hundred hours, and it is close to five o clock right now. Judging from your background Martine talked about, this shouldn't be a long task." He noticed Angelo by Rinoa's knees and smiled a warm smile. Whistling at him, he coaxed the dog over and ruffled his ears. Turning to Rinoa, he said, "I'll watch over him for you."

Rinoa nodded slowly and turned to a distraught Squall and chirped, "Let's get this over with." Without waiting for a reply, she hussled them down to the shopping arena southwest of the train station. "We should probably gear up for this."

"Rinoa," Selphie started, "are you...?"

"No need for that right now. Anyone need weapons, magical items, GFs?"

"What is this place like?" Squall asked, suddenly realizing he needed an upgrade.

"It's a small dark tomb filled with things in it, what do you think?"

"Just asking, damn."

"I need a new gun, if you don't mind," Irvine chimed. "This one's got a bad sighting."

"If you have the money," Rinoa snorted.

"Oh, I've got the money, sister, I'm a Level 13 SeeD."

"Level 13!" Zell shouted. "That bites!"

OPERATION SEPULCHUR

The group walked the dirt plains of Deling away from the city with the northern sea to their left and the Yaulney cliffs to their right. They could see the tomb ahead of them as a stone speck surrounded by a small forest. They were fully stocked up and ready to go. Irvine had been the first in line and had plunked down six thousand gil to buy the Bismarck, a high-calibre double-barreled magnum with a handy contraption on the top. Dynamo stones could be forced into it to intensify the blast effect. The sharpshooter quipped that it was the second-most powerful gun in the world, and he was probably right. Selphie bought a new nunchaku, the Morning Star, a step-up from her original flail and a sparkling weapon. Magical stones were now imbued in the two sharp spikes, allowing her to easily cast fire, ice, and thunder magic without having to do symbology. Zell bought some brass knuckles called the Maverick that sported actual dragon fins on the knuckles. He was destined to cause some blood to fly that normally required constant beating to administer. Quistis dropped three thousand gil onto the Slaying Tail, a sharper blade for the red whip she sported on her belt. Magical stone also glittered the red hilt allowing her to poison her enemies plus cure her allies in combat without the need for symbology. Rinoa traded in her bowgun for a handy Cardinal. It looked like the actual bird and made for a great disguise-- what came out of the bird's beak was a razor-sharp poison dart that could cause immediate paralysis. She was the only one that got her weapon for free. Squall paid the most, for gunblades were hard to come by. At nine thousand gil, plus a thousand for the scabbard, he walked off with the Cutting Trigger. The blade was fiery red and jagged at the top, meant for causing extreme lacerating wounds. The gun assembly was magnum-calibre utilizing Blitz stones for an electrical shock. The same jewel of Fated Circle was used, and the Squad Leader was determined to utilize the ability tonight.

All six of them were happy with their purchases, and they sauntered off into the rapidly waning sunlight towards this Tomb of an Unknown King. Squall was a bit put off despite his fancy weapon hanging on his belt. Something did not smell right in the politics of the situation. If Cid and Martine wanted this mission completed for the sake of the Gardens, why were they forced to undergo a test of skill? What was the purpose of it? He also thought about Rinoa, and he wondered about the relationship between her and Carroway. It sounded awfully personal, and she didn't seem the least bit enthused about it. When he saw her out of the corner of his eye, he saw that she seemed preoccupied with the same thoughts.

It was close to six when they arrived at the tomb's entrance, and the dirt plains had shifted into cobblestones. Dry, cool air was wafting from the open gate of the entrance, and the general feeling reminded them of a cemetery. Something in the name of Operation Sepulchur seemed to ring true to their ears.

"Wonder what these so-called guardians look like?" Zell inquired. He smacked his fists together, feeling the sharp edges of the dragon fins cut briefly into his skin. He smiled, as he thought of the moment they would make impact.

"Possibly something pretty big," Squall thought aloud. He looked at the direction of the Sun and wished it was earlier than it was.

"I still cannot believe he's doing this," Rinoa sighed bitterly. "All that talk about assassination might be true, but not sixty attempts. If he's not limping from that fractured... whatever, I'll make him limp!"

"Shit, girl," Irvine said, "what is he, your dad or something?"

The raven-haired princess whirled toward him and snapped, "My family affairs are none of your business, Kinneas!"

"So, he is your father," Quistis said, "that explains the huffing and puffing."

"He's always been like this," Rinoa said, "always distrusting others. Ever since I was a little girl."

Squall snorted, and they looked at him. "I really don't care about that. If we don't get this done, we'll be singing a different tune. So let's ju--"

A scream shook him, and he turned to see two girls who looked like Galbadian cadets run out of the open gate with all their muster. Their faces were flushed, and their clothes were torn. Bloody scars etched their bodies. They were being chased by a small pack of devillish-looking pygmies carrying small pitchforks and sharp daggers. One in the lead jumped forward and swung its dagger straight into the back of one of the girl's neck. The blade ran through her flesh and sunk her down to the ground. The second bloodied girl stumbled over a dislodged rock and opened her kneecap, and the pygmies swarmed on her cutting her flesh apart.

Squall and Zell ran towards them after Irvine loaded a shell and a Dynamo stone into his gun and fired at the marauding pack. Three of the devils blew backwards and coated their friends with their blood. Squall brought his red blade around in an arc and took off the heads of the next four pygmies running up, while Zell somersaulted around the back and planted a couple of well-timed slams into the backs of the last two creatures. Irvine cocked his Bismarck, and Squall sheathed his sword. The three girls joined them, and they all looked at the two dead cadets. The girls' skin had been peeled off by some type of acidic ooze, as well as being cut up by the pygmies's weapons.

Squall sighed and stood up. "Looks like a hectic journey already."

"Should we bury them?" Irvine asked.

"It'd be better to burn them, so the monsters don't come out to eat their remains."

"That's really sick," Rinoa winced.

Squall found himself holding Ifrit's gem and heard the Fire Prince's roars churning in his palm. "Reading up on the ins and outs of this world conjures up all kinds of nasty things." He took his hand off the gem, and a warm yellow fire was covering his flesh. Hovering it over the dead bodies, he sent a burst of fire over them, and both girls melted from the heat. Ashes remained after the fire burned out. His five companions watched him with interest as he took out the GF gems. "I believe," he said somberly, "that we're gonna need some help."

"Nothing to worry about over here, mate," Irvine smiled, taking out a turquoise gem. Something flew inside it, and a sharp shine skirted across it.

Squall blinked. "What's that?"

"I'm a consummate ladies man, Squall. This here is Siren, a fancy little she-devil I picked up in Galbadia. Summon her up, and she'll come down singing the most beautiful song you'll ever hear, and then drown ya in an impenetrable void." He beamed at their inquisitive glances. "I personally find her very useful."

"I'm sure you do," the Squad Leader replied. "Well, I've got four here amongst five people. I'll go alone with just my sword, if you'll all take your pick."

"Hey," Zell asked, "I thought the gods picked who they wanted."

Squall looked at his gems. The ones containing Diablos and Ifirt seemed to shine really bright as if to say _Yeah, that's right, pal._ The one containing Quetzacotyl seemed to cast its usual indifferent shine. "Well, that's why I'm not accepting one then," he answered defiantly.

"Well give me Quetzacotyl. I could use some thunder magic at this time."

"I'll take Ifrit! He's so cute sometimes," Selphie chirped.

"How is that?" Quistis asked as she took Shiva.

"He's so strong and powerful."

"He's a goddamn flamer," Zell shouted.

Ifrit's gem glowed really bright, and Quetzacotyl's gem seemed to laugh in response. Selphie waved her bright red gem in front of him and stuck out her tongue.

Squall raised an eyebrow and looked at Rinoa. "One left." He smiled inside: nobody wanted Diablos, even though the underworld diety had saved their lives before.

"I'm.... not very good with magic," she said awkwardly.

"I'll help you out," Selphie said with joy, linking arms with a sheepishly-smiling Rinoa. "It's loads of fun when you junction it correctly."

"Junction?"

"Yeah!" The spunky SeeD showed her her sparkling nunchuck. "All the jewels on here are junctioned magic spells that make me stronger in combat. If you applied the same to your bowgun, you'll find that you perform a whole lot better."

"How come they don't have them?" she asked pointing to Squall and Zell.

Zell snorted, and Squall didn't reply. Selphie rolled her eyes and replied, "They think they're macho or something. Only brute strength for them."

"I guess you can say that," Squall said, still holding out Diablos. He had already used the diety and was grateful for the assistance. Yet, the gunblader really liked the thick of the fray. He couldn't see eye-to-eye with the sharpshooter. Sure, Squall had a gun assembly, but guns alone didn't solve the problem. You had to have a sword to take care of business.

Rinoa looked again sheepishly at the bright shiny gray gem and then took it and immediately felt the power within it. "Wow," she said nervously.

Selphie smartly closed her hand around it, and Rinoa felt an intense surge roll throughout her body. "Isn't that wild?!!" Selphie beamed. Rinoa felt comatose, yet revitalized. The experience was worth the weird tenseness.

Squall nodded his head. "Is everyone ready? Everyone like what they're paired with?"

Everyone gave an "aye-aye" or the equivalent, and he led the way into the tomb for that abominable code number.

The darkness was overwhelming, and he patted against the slimy wall for some sort of torch, if he was lucky to be blessed with that compensation. He was surprised to be granted that wish, yet more surprised when his foot landed in something sticky. The girls behind him gave a quick gasp as they stepped in it, too, and Selphie urged him to find a light. He wrenched the torch from its socket, and caught Selphie's hand and found the warm glow of Ifrit to light it up.

The torch enveloped the tomb corridor, and the first thing they saw was the corpse of a dead pygmie rotting against the corner. The stickiness was its blood splattered on the floor with bugs crawling around rolling in the red ooze. Cobwebs hung everywhere, drooping against the corners of walls and the injunctions of pathways. Squall found more unlit torches and used the lit one to light two more and gave them to Zell and Irvine.

While outside the air seemed dry and cold, inside it was hot and damp. Sweat formed beneath his undershirt, and the necklace holding his griffin ring clung to his chest and irritated his skin. He wanted to take off his leather jacket, but where was he going to put it? The dampness seemed to be bothering Irvine the most with his brown duster and boots. He took off his fedora, tied it to a neck strap on his duster, and let it hang on his back. The three girls were sweating as well and looked very uncomfortable. Zell seemed the most at ease and still chipper with the thought of the intrigue of battle.

They continued slowly down the cobblestone floor. The tomb was very old and cramped. Ancient carvings on the walls had almost been totally defaced from the humidity, and that seemed a tragic thing. What little remained depicted iconography of a large dynasty that used to rule the modern-day landmass of Deling and Galbadia (er... Westonia). Through the flickering light of his torch, Squall mused out loud, "Must be truly a King buried here." He was surprised by how loud his voice sounded even admist the damp environment.

"How so?" Zell asked.

"The walls tell a story. If it only remained, it'd tell more." He noticed they as well looked at the walls, but they didn't seem nearly as fascinated as he was.

They walked for a while longer, with the nauseating idea that the tomb was only a straightforward corridor, until they reached an intersection of three paths: North, East, and West. Squall mentally cursed inside, even though he suspected a tomb had to be built in something like this mode. He turned to look at his party and was depressed to find out they were waiting for him to give an order. _Why the fuck do I have to be the leader of this mess all the time?_ "It looks like the path splits here," he said dumbly.

"I think I could've told ya that, Mr. Leader," Irvine quipped.

Squall thought about hitting him upside the face with his torch, but he was glad to take a deep breath. "We're going to have split into three groups."

Rinoa and Selphie both looked shocked, then thought about it, and then linked arms. "We'll be one!" the spunky SeeD said.

Squall looked at them and read confidence. "Sounds good." He looked at the other three and immediately sensed a problem. He did not like the way Zell and Irvine were facing each other, the body language was not exactly cordial. He would have to take one of them. He looked at Quistis and remembered the awkward moment they had in the Secret Area, and he figured a repeat of that moment would make his stomach retch. He opted for Irvine, in a vague attempt to get to know the sharpshooter better.

Staring down the three paths, he came up to a loss. Until.... he remembered he had a couple of dice in his pocket from his dorm. Why he had that, he could not explain too fully. "Selphie, Quistis, and myself will be the leaders of.... Groups... 1,2, and 3. All right?" He watched them nod their heads. "Whomever picks the highest number from a roll of this die heads north from here, ok?" They nodded again, and Selphie picked seven (her favorite number), Quistis picked twelve, and Squall picked eleven. The result happened to be seven on the dot. Selphie did a little dance for some reason and hauled Rinoa down the north path, singing a song along the way.

"Great Eden," Quistis sighed, "that girl's a piece of work."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Irvine smoozed, receiving a sharp hit from her in return.

Quistis stopped Squall's hand and said, "No need for that, Squall, Zell and I will take the western path."

Squall put the die back and shrugged his shoulders and watched them leave. Turning to Irvine, he said, "Are you gonna be cracking the whole way?"

"Who's says I haven't cracked already?"

"If you haven't yet, I'll make that possible."

NORTH

The path continued for them, although the two girls found it was going deeper into the earth, and the humidity seemed to increase which Selphie found odd. From her studies, she assumed that the further you went underground the colder the air would be. She had borrowed Irvine's torch, and Rinoa hung close to her right side so as not to touch the slime-coated walls. None of the iconography from before remained on them, but cobwebs seemed to be growing more and more common. Rinoa hated spiders above all insects, and she cringed at the thought of running into one. Selphie didn't seem to mind the webs, and she was still singing a soft song from her lips. Rinoa didn't have the heart to tell her she was a little off-key. Selphie seemed like a sweet younger sister to her anyway.

The spunky SeeD had not only made her take Diablos, but she had given Rinoa a couple of ice gems to cast some blizzara spells, a sort of mid-level magicka that could cause some great damage to monsters in the area. Rinoa had felt the same instances of power running through them that the GF had done.

The path went deeper and deeper, and the torch light flickered onto wide holes in the walls. The cobwebs literally swarmed the place and even draped across the pathway. Little baby spiders crawled across the floor and away from the advancing light. Selphie stopped her singing at the first sound of a low scuttling from inside the walls. She felt Rinoa's hair whack her head, as the bowgun-wielder frantically searched for the source of the sound.

Selphie managed a slightly nervous giggle. "What's the matter, girl, you nervous?"

"You're n-not?"

The scuttling happened again, this time closer. "N-No, I'm not."

Rinoa clasped her hands around the ice gems and remembered the incantation Selphie had told moments ago: a simple _Azule veramboso_ would unleash a bright crystalline shard of ice. The trick was to pronounce it right in a confident voice, or else it wouldn't work. The scuttling occurred again, and she licked her lips nervously. She was glad Angelo was not here with her at the moment, she wouldn't be able to keep track of him.

Selphie thought she saw a flash of red from a hole in the wall, but her light shined on nothing. When she took it away, it occurred again, and she hurled it back onto two pairs of yellow beady eyes. Each pair contained eight separate golden orbs, and the creatures emerged quick as ever. Their fat bulbous bellies smelled terribly awful, and a sickly green mist enveloped around their egg sacs. Their legs were long and bristly, and their fangs were dripping with poisonous saliva. Rinoa yelped and shouted some form of gibberish that did not release her magic spell as she hoped. The spider crashed into her, and she did all she could to avoid the nasty maw.

The damn eight-legged monstrosities were as big as them and disgusting to the smell. Selphie dodged the second charging arachnid and dragged her lit end of the torch across its back, unsheathing the Morning Star in the process. The blazing spider let out a nasty squeal that sounded like a drowning animal, and it sputtered in its own immolation. Rinoa was forced on her back, swatting the creature away with her Cardinal, a bolt from the beak embedding itself into the belly of the advancing spider. The spider snarled in slight pain and moved its mandibles in glee. Selphie ran forward and slashed sharply at the spider's head with her Morning Star. The blow took half of its head clean off, and the arachnid sank on the floor dead as a doornail.

The burning spider ignored its engulfing state and advanced toward Selphie ready to poison her in the back. Rinoa stood up sharply and cried _Azule veramboso!_ The spider stopped, sensing externalities around it, and its eight eyes at once saw a thick circle of ice form out of the blue. A large knife-shaped block of ice formed in the center of the circle and then caved downwards. The whole formation impaled the spider to the ground and immediately chilled its innards and its life to below-zero temperatures, killing it instantly.

Selphie's torch blew out from the magical spell, plunging them in total darkness. She fumbled for Ifrit's gem in her pocket and thanked his name for shining so brightly red and lit the end of the torch again with his everlasting heat. The room lit up again, and the two shocked girls noticed more pairs of yellow beady eyes eyeing them from the same hole. A sound occurred behind them, and a new hole caved in with three pairs of eyes slowly eyeing them over. On cue, eight spiders slowly descended from their hiding places well aware of the viciousness of their intruders.

Selphie felt a sudden cool blast behind them and heard as well the faint trickle of water running. She immediately thought of an underground well, and she figured there might be a way to lose the heat there. The spiders were advancing now more quickly, and she saw Rinoa had seemed to forget the incantation once again. There was no time to spare! She twirled the Morning Star in her hand, focused her energy, and spewed out a large fireball from her mouth. Courtesy of Ifrit, she felt his presence within her and two of her enemies melted away from the blast. The quickness of the action angered the spiders and brought Rinoa back to her senses. She saw Selphie indicate for her to run, but she managed to sneak in a deadly strike straight into the brain of a spider with a bolt from her Cardinal.

The five spiders pursued them down the corridor, and Selphie was right in her intuition. Beyond her torchlight, she saw the glowing paleness of glistening water, she felt the air cooling rapidly, and she saw at last a large lake with a tower in the center. The open room was a massive carved-out space underground and plenty of room to summon a GF. She tossed the torch into the lake, able to see her surroundings now and pushed Rinoa to the side. The five spiders were scampering now, and one leapt up in the air. Rinoa shot its belly and socketed it down on the dirt floor, and she hastily tried to attach a new bolt to her gun. Selphie pulled out Ifrit's gem and squeezed it tight. A loud roar flowed throughout the room, and the four remaining spiders stopped in their tracks. The great horned demon materialized out of a fiery ball that hovered above Selphie. Dropping gently beside her, he eyed the four startled arachnids and then instantly melted them with a fist slammed against the ground. The impact sent a fire ripple that consumed them instantly without any effort. Turning back to Selphie, he gave a twinkle with his eye and vanished as quickly as he came.

"W-Wow!" Rinoa breathed sharply. "That's my second time seeing one of those!"

Selphie gave a shy smile. "Cool, huh?"

"This is a lot more dangerous than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, I know, but this is a battle arena, Rinoa! You've gotta be prepared for anything!"

Rinoa felt goosebumps pop up on her skin and a strong aura enveloping around her. She rubbed her shoulders. "Something doesn't feel right."

"It's the power of the Guardian Forces. Their presence in battle always consumes time, being that they have to transcend it to get to our world."

"I know, I felt it when Squall summoned the one I'm carrying right now. Is that.... is that a good thing?"

"What dya mean?"

"For our safety. It seems rather detrimental."

Selphie shrugged. "I remember my first experience with the GFs. It was a harrowing time at first, being that they're so unpredictable sometimes. Yet, even though it exhumes a lot of energy from you, it really does make you pretty powerful in the end."

"How are you feeling right now?"

"Well, how did you feel after you finally brought on that blizzard spell?"

"Tired."

"Same here, although I'm more used to it now. GFs are stronger, but I've learned to control it better."

Rinoa doubted the sincerity of that, but she wanted to get back to the others. She mentally derided fate: _Why did it have to be spiders? I hate spiders!_

Selphie looked back at the lake. She could see three other openings in the walls of the room, and she took in that the large room was square-shaped. "It seems as if this place is a large maze that isn't too difficult to get lost." She was musing to herself, and she didn't hear Rinoa question her. Instead, her thoughts turned toward a bridge on the western side of the lake. It looked like it could be brought down by some pulleys somewhere.

Rinoa tapped her shoulder. "What are you thinking?"

Selphie pointed to the tower. "I think the King resides there."

"Or what's left of him?"

"Exactly. That bridge over there leads to him. Whoever took the western side might find the pulley if that's the case." She looked back to where they were and noticed that a ring of dirt enveloped the entire circle of the lake. "Let's see if we can walk over there and find it, Rinoa!"

They hadn't budged yet before a loud creaking sound alerted their attention to the bridge. It was slowly being pulled down. Another loud sound echoed from their right, and they looked eastward to see a bloodied minotaur barrel through the eastern opening and into the lake. It swam towards the tower and disappeared inside it. Both girls looked at each other and realized their gang were doing things on their paths, and they grew somewhat jealous. They made their way for the bridge hoping to take part in more than just spider-bashing.

WEST

Zell was glad he wasn't paired with that foolish cowboy figure, although being with the former instructor seemed just as irritating. She was so tight-lipped about everything, that no amount of conversation took place as they slowly walked the winding path that they had taken. The air was considerably cooler over in this area, and the darkness was evading them slowly. Slits in the ceiling shone small bits of flourescent light the farther they went through the corridor, and before long Quistis had tossed the torch away. The brawler had noticed that ever since she had come across Rinoa, her facial expressions and mannerisms had been all quirky. He thought some tinge of jealousy was welling up inside her, as if Squall was somehow physically attracted to Rinoa or something.

He couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud, but he clapped his mouth shut when she looked in his direction.

"What on earth are you laughing about?"

Lies weren't good to come from him, but he couldn't see any reason for her to pinpoint what exactly he was thinking. "I... just thought of this random joke... I had heard from Seifer a few months ago."

She snorted. "A joke from Seifer, huh? That's part of a friendly notion, right?"

"It was off-handed. No big deal."

"Sure, sure. How did it go?" She didn't sound the least bit interested.

"Er... a Galbadian, Dolletian, and Delinger go into a Balamb bar, and the bartender says, 'Get the fuck out!'."

She stopped and waited for the punch line, except he didn't speak further. She turned to him, and he shrugged his shoulders. She saw through the faint light that he had the dumbest expression on his face, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, that's... I didn't expect that." She nervously giggled and played with her strawberry-blond hair.

The brawler figured he had broken the ice. "You like Squall, huh?"

Her eyes looked angry in the light, but she softened them. "That's a personal matter, Zell."

"I don't want to pry too heavily. Yet, if we continue to work together--"

"I don't, okay, I don't!"

Zell shook his head, and they resumed walking. After a while, though, as she was obviously backed into thinking about it, she let out, "He's so stubborn sometimes."

"Well, I coulda told you that."

"Yeah, you're right. You were his roommate, after all."

"Tell me about it. He's always been stubborn, ever since we were nine years old and the Chief had put us next to each other. Y'know, he was in that adjutant position, and he was all like carrying the flag and all and thinkin he was the baddest motherfucker of all--- oh, sorry, I said that word."

"Ha! Please, you've said much worse!"

He grinned. "Yeah, I have."

"The Chief put me right behind him."

"Ohhh.... nice view?"

She socked him on the shoulder. "I'd never think things like that."

"Not even when you two were in the Fire Cavern?"

"N--- Er... he fights good, that's all."

"Uh-huh."

They walked some more in silence. As they rounded another corner, the former instructor looked ready to finish the conversation when they came upon a ravine. In the center was a massive pulley with large gears strung together by grease-soaked cables. The cables protruded up to the ceiling where they were lost from view. "Wow," Zell remarked, "you think that goes to something."

"It aint for decoration." Quistis went to the edge of the path and looked down the sharp incline. She became slightly confused. The entire length and width of the floor was checkerboarded with small squares. Each of the squares contained a single alphabetic letter within it. There looked to be a dozen on the width side and about five dozen on the length. She looked farther down and saw that the platform holding the pulley was metallic and suspended over a nasty-looking moat. A sharp tingy smell was faint in the room, like the smell of rotting death. A stillness in the ambience was also unsettling to her, but as she listened close she could make out faint breezes blowing from somewhere. Listening intently, she thought it was coming below the checkerboards.

Zell grunted in agitation. "What are we waiting for, instructor?" He walked dumbly beside her.

Catching the trap, she exclaimed, "Zell, stop walking!"

He was stubborn, as well. His left foot hit a square marked "Z" and went straight through bringing him with it. She caught both his shoulders and used all her strength to haul back up to her level. Both of them let out a shout of surprise and landed on their backs on the slimy dirty floor. "Dammit, Quistis!" Zell cursed. "What's going on!"

"The floor is trapped! I think they're all rigged."

"But, but how're we gonna reach that fucking pulley!"

She mentally cursed herself and looked at the walls and ceiling. Doing a doubletake on one of the walls, she saw a peculiar heiroglyph. Struggling to her feet, she slowly walked towards it and studied it. The picture contained a tower within a moat. Inside the tower, which was just a red rook-shaped line against a yellow backdrop, there were some writings: _Contained within, the Book of the Dead, the Jewels of the Dead, and the Guardians of the Dead: Sacred and Minotaur_ The letters within the diagram looked exactly like the letters on the floor. She looked at both several times and then at other various drawings on the walls. Some of these drawings depicted what looked like the two guardians. _If they are,_ she thought, _they're rather ugly-looking creatures_. She presumed that a secret message dictating the names of the two guardians was what the pathway consisted of.

She decided to chance it.

"What are you doing?" Zell asked stupidly.

"I think this is what they call 'a leap of faith'."

"Who calls it that?"

"Some weirdo religious people."

"Weirdo religious people? That's not something you'd say!"

She looked at him subtly and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I've been listening to Squall too much." She stepped to the edge and scanned the first row. "A", "F", "D", etc. etc. the second-to-last one said "S". Breathing deeply, she stuck her foot out and placed it.

It stood.

She exhaled softly and turned to the astonished brawler. "The message is Sacred, Minotaur. They're the guardians of this place."

"I'll be right behind you."

They went quickly but carefully over the S-A-C-R, stepped sharply to the E and D consecutively and then scoured frantically for the M. Finding it way over in the corner, they stepped as far as they could go and reached it. Since Zell was an inch shorter than her both in height and gait, his foot slightly jarred a trapped stone, and he stumbled a bit. Laying steady on her hand, they went to I-N-O, jumped to the T, walked sharply to the A, and then skirted consecutively the U and R. The metal platform swayed by their movement, and they carefully reached the pulley. It was slimy from years of non-use. Whomever came to see Carroway, if the guard was correct in his statement, had never come to see this room. The pulley looked impossible to placate.

Quistis turned her nose in disgust as a cockroach crawled across the cable connectors. Zell didn't seem bothered by the slime, he dug his hand amongst the coils and set to work fixing the parts. "It looks like the pulley's cables are coming undone."

She watched him astonishingly rig the machine up to near-perfect working order. She knew he was an excellent brawler, but she didn't know he was good with his hands practically. This seemed to brighten her attention.

Zell reached a tough spot. A couple cockroaches had created a nest on the main cable, and the slime from their bodies had oozed on the lubricant plastering the parts together. He wondered if a little melting job would work out fine. "Think you can light a bit?"

"There's bugs in there!"

"Fuck that! We need to fix this thing."

"Now hold on, we don't know what this thing does."

"Well, duh, it opens something, or brings something down."

She sighed. Practical or not, he was a dumbass in other respects. "This might detriment us by unleashing a monster."

"Or, it'll aid Squall and the others."

She sighed again.

"Just light these roaches up, they're in the way."

"Ew," she grimaced and slowly walked over to him. Unleashing the Slaying Tail, she lit the end of it and blew it on the nest. The bugs died, and the ropes and cables tinged from the heat releasing the main line and freeing the contraption from its stranglehold. All Zell had to do now was release the guage.

The two of them didn't notice the thing in the water until it rose to meet them.

The foul monster who was making the reeking smell leapt out of the water in a fantastic somersault with two nasty blades in each hand. The creature was a skeleton wearing a fiery red cape. It seemed incredibly agile, for it twirled in mid-air and slashed hard at Zell's back. The brawler staggered from two deep cuts that bled profusely. The skeleton laughed manically and prepared to finish the job, but Quistis's whip slashed in a sickly arc and tore off the creature's head. The head rolled into the lake, but the skeleton was far from completely dead. It remained standing, decapitated, and started swinging its swords in a manic swirl. The stillness of the air gave way to the most hideous sound of sharp blade movements slicing the air with great force. Zell staggered back behind the pulley before the blades could slice his body to ribbons, but he tripped and fell into the murky brink. There was salt in the water, and it cut his wounds up some more.

The blades defied normalcy and swung with ferocious speed. Quistis blocked one sending it into the lake, but the other sliced open her leg, and she fell to the ground. The headless skeleton stopped advancing, twirled its remaining sword blade downwards, and stabbed downwards. Quistis evaded just in time to hear a sickening squelch, as the sword lodged deep into the metal floor. She brought the whip around and cut a deep swipe in the creature's rib cage shattering off many bones. Something inside this skeleton gave it still more life, and it refused to die. She sighed in defeat, for the wound had opened up greatly. The headless skeleton used incredible strength and ripped the sword out of the floor and raised it up to her neck.

Zell used up enough strength himself and forced himself out of the water, surprising the skeleton who turned toward him. Ignoring the open sores in his back, Zell hobbled over to the skeleton, ducked a swipe of the blade, and punched the creature straight where his kidney would be. The dragon fin knuckle went straight through the body and tore the skeleton into two pieces. The damage exposed the small blue energy ball that had gave the skeleton all that life and strength, and Zell stomped it to pieces with one good smash of his boot.

The creature was dead, for permanent. Quistis quickly wiped her nausea away and clasped her hands around the purple jewel in her whip. A ray of light enveloped her body, and her bloody wounds cauterized and closed up, steam eclipsing the flowing blood. Soreness was still with her, but the open wounds were gone. Zell stumbled to his knees, and Quistis laid the purple jewel in his palm, and he too felt the immense healing power of Cura. Steam now filled the room, and they coughed in it until they were able to see around them. Wasting no time in conversation, Zell jumped to his feet and with all his might pulled back the lever on the pulley. A door opened up behind them, and something loud fell further away.

EAST

Squall Leonhart did not trust the various utterances coming out of Irvine Kinneas. The cowboy was aggravating the crap out of him, talking about all the various kinds of guns he fired at his training camp in Galbadia Garden's SeeD unit. Irvine couldn't decide which was more important: shotguns, magnums, or sniper rifles. "You see, Mr. Leader, a shotgun creates a shoot-from-the-hip situation. An extra bit of force, an extra bit of kick. A magnum just makes a huge fucking hole in you, I can't say anything else more than that. But, a sniper rifle, oh baby, there's something beautiful in that let me tell you."

Squall scratched his head. "What about just a plain old pistol?"

"A---" Irvine whirled on him. "What?!"

Squall stopped walking. They had been walking for some time and hearing various noises from far away that sounded like the voices of the girls, but they couldn't be too sure of that. "A pistol? What about a plain old pistol?"

The cowboy slapped himself in the head. "Nobody uses pistols anymore, man. What a noob thing to say!"

Squall couldn't help but be peeved.

Then, something occurred to Irvine, and he looked at Squall's belt. "Oh, I see. You've got a gunblade." His eyes seemed to grow bright through the torchlight. "How does it work?"

Squall's free hand went to a fist. "You are like the nintieth person to ask me that."

"Great Eden, you must be a stubborn ol prick, eh?"

"Fuck off, you piece of shit. The only thing you need to worry about is to fire that gun straight into the heart of the Sorceress, okay?"

Irvine seemed to grow depressed. "Yeah, you're right."

"Oh, cut with the sadness there, cowboy. All my gunblade does is swipe and shoot. Hit the trigger, watch the blade warp, and then get out of the way.""Sounds difficult."

"Maybe for shotgun lovers."

He held up the Bismarck. "This is a magnum. A double-barreled one too."

Squall held up his hand. "This is my middle finger. You can sit on it and rotate."

"Damn," Irvine laughed. "We're gonna be good partners once this is done."

"Maybe so."

Their walking led them to a great open hall with a bunch of dead bodies. It looked like a mess hall, except most of the tables were turned over. Countless dead strewn the halls, and even though most of them were pure skeleton, they could tell they had been slaughtered unexpectedly. The majority here were workers and servants, attending their daily lunch hour. It looked like they had been poisoned. As Squall scanned the great hall, he noticed a shaft of bright blue light emanated above a statue of a hideous being near the back wall. The light was bright enough that the torch was useless, so he snuffed it out. The extinguished light seemed to draw a moan from the statue, but when both of them looked there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Squall looked at Irvine who stared back at him perplexed. Squall slowly unsheathed the Cutting Trigger and slipped a couple Blitz stones in. Irvine cocked the Bismarck into a ready position, and they slowly advanced toward the statue. They had the strangest idea that the thing was alive. A dark presence seemed to envelop it. Irvine tripped over a bowl, causing a loud sound. Squall gave him a glaring look, but something else made a soft chuckle. They turned to the statue, but nothing was there. Another chuckle came, but now it sounded behind them. They turned and saw nothing. Fear gripped each of their hearts, but being men of honor and staunch members of SeeD, they gripped their strength. The chucklings grew louder and consistent.

A deep voice bellowed throughout the hall. "Who--dares---enter--my--domain!"

They looked at the statue, for it now looked at them. It was gray before, but now a split second later, it was dark blue and purple. The statue was now a great monster with blueish-gray horns, orange eyes, and a barreled blue chest. It had purple legs with deep dark hooves. It resembled a man and a goat, and the first thing they thought it of was a Minotaur. They were correct in that assumption.

The Minotaur stared long and hard at the both of them and then slowly dropped down off its pedestal. It expanded its arms out, and a racket occurred at the wall to the left of them. A long spiked club hooked on the wall broke off and sailed straight into the creature's outstretched hands. The Minotaur breathed another sinister chuckle. "I am the youngest of the two Brothers. Welcome, pitiful humans. It has been a while since I've seen some fresh meat. I hope you do not disappoint." Quicker than they thought, the big boss crouched low and swung his mightly club. The spiked weapon smacked Squall square in the chest, knocking the breath out of him, and sailed him through the air. He landed onto a sturdy table and sent it crashing to the floor.

Irvine was caught off guard, and the Minotaur was not amused. It swung at him, too, but the cowboy was able to duck quicker. Skirting behind the behemoth, he aimed the Bismarck and fired straight into its gut. Two magnum shells laced with Blitz power bore two nasty open holes in the blue flesh. Green blood spilled all over the floor, and the Minotaur howled in ferocious pain. Irvine reloaded with quick timing, but the creature was ignoring its pain far quicker. As well, to the sharpshooter's horror, the two enormous wounds were cauterizing extremely fast. The Minotaur chuckled some more, even though it was definitely afraid of that gun the human had, and it charged a terrified Irvine and smashed his body with the club. Irvine felt a couple of his ribs smashed open, as his body sailed like a rag doll over the pedestal and against the back wall.

Squall rolled lazily off the broken table and got to his feet. He saw Irvine's twisted body and cursed alerting the Minotaur to his presence. However, Squall chuckled to himself. _I will have to thank Quistis later for this_. He had swiped her jewel containing a wind spell. From his copious studies in the library, he had learned that earth elements and wind elements were polar opposites, and he believed this Tomb of the Unknown King contained a certain earthiness to it. He watched the Minotaur bellow towards him and leap in his direction with its spike club out ready to impale him. The incantation flowed through him, and he blasted a Float spell into the creature's stomach. The incredible uplifting blast conjoined its innards together and kept the blue behemoth from steadying back to the ground. Suspended up there, the orange eyes became frightened, and it made a hideous squeal. Squall knew this was the time.

Grasping the red jewel on the hilt of the Cutting Trigger, he felt a surge of energy run through him so powerful he almost collapsed. Instead, he swooned downwards and was aware of a red circular field growing around him. The Minotaur looked incredibly uncomfortable from his position looking downwards, and Squall found himself smiling. The red field of energy swarmed him, and he leapt upwards with a fantastic fury and uppercutted the beast with a gigantic swipe of the Cutting Trigger. Settling back down gracefully, the Fatal Circle had splashed green blood everywhere, and the Minotaur collapsed in a heap on the floor. However much power it could consume from the earth was not enough, and the Minotaur defiantly yelled at Squall, "My big brother will fix you, you---- pathetic---human!!!" It staggered to its feet and barrelled through a wall, leading the way dumbly out of the maze hell.

Squall felt satisfied with the burst of energy but saw Irvine in trouble. He rushed to the cowboy's aid, and he found the man in shock by what he just saw. "What the fuck was that?!!"

"You have much to learn from me, cowboy. Come on!" He helped him up to his feet, despite the cowboy's incredible wincing, and the two of them followed the bloodied Minotaur to its hideout.

CENTRAL

The six of them were surprised to bump into each other at the lake. Quistis immediately cured the broken Irvine, and all gazed in awe at the steaming process. Loud roars continued to sound from within the tower, and after Squall, Quistis, and Selphie related their stories, they figured it was time to see the Guardians face-to-face.

They entered the tower and were disappointed to find nothing but a spiralling staircase. Green blood lined the steps, though, so they figured they were on the right track. At the entrance to the steps, though, the SeeDs were horrified to find an obstacle blocking their path. It was a Golem, the same creature that had harassed them during their exams for SeeD. Rinoa looked at the creature and admired its ugliness as something of an unnatural beauty. The old, bestraggled creature watched them saunter up and seemed to examine their souls in the process. "My, my," he said in his despicable croaking voice, "if it isn't the cadets again. Even though, you're now SeeD, I am still unimpressed with your performances." He hissed the last word out of sheer loathiness.

Squall unsheathed the Cutting Trigger, allowing a red shine to blaze the walls. "We don't have the time once again, you old codger."

The creature gave a mock tone of surprise. "Oh, my, what is this Squall Leonhart up to in such a hurry? My, my, how delightfully important this predicament must be, eh?"

Zell smacked his fists together. "Get on with it!"

The golem made a guttural sound. "How delightfully important it must be. Very well, ladies and gentlemen. Allow me to play a little game first. I love games, and as one grows older, they become more fun to play, I think. People of this world nowadays believe games are so passe." He smiled at their annoyed expressions. "This game is sort of a riddle and sort of a diagram. Three pictures will materialize with a riddle associated with it. If you can correctly guess the riddle, no danger will present itself."

"Bullshit," Irvine snorted.

"If you guess wrong, heh-heh, certain death awaits."

"What the hell is this?" Rinoa snapped. "This is so despicable!"

"Ah, yes! The non-SeeD. Rinoa Heartilly, right? The resistance leader?"

The raven-haired princess looked at her companions befuddled.

The golem helped her. "I am an old creature of this world my dear. I know more than you can imagine. Now then, Mr. Squall, here it is."

Three large orbs appeared containing pictures of a red-coated skeleton, a large blue gel-like monster, and a armodillo-like creature. The golem hissed excitedly, "_I am a monster most famous among men. A Blobra I'm called, but men are so shamed. No physical attacks hurt me, no hand can slight me. I'm sly and agile, and I make not a sound. Who am I?_"

Squall had not seen these monsters before, except one if he remembered correctly. But he couldn't remember correctly. There was a heavy fog in his mind, and he couldn't remember the particulars. He remembered that the girl from the infirmary was there being attacked by one of the creatures, and when he had saved her she was whisked off by a bunch of white-clad officers. He had been mad that day, for his chance at answers had been thwarted again. Yet, all he could remember of that event was her and not the creature he was fighting.

Zell disturbed his thoughts with pertinent information. "It's that skeleton! Instructor and I fought it!"

Squall thought that sounded good until Quistis debunked it. "No, Zell, physical attacks were able to harm it remember?"

"Oh.... yeah. It did after a while."

"I think it's that nasty looking blue thing," Selphie suggested scrunching up her nose.

Irvine disagreed. "Nah, the riddle talks about slyness and agility. That's gotta be that armodillo thing."

"For once I agree with you, cowboy," Rinoa said.

He tipped his hat in her direction. "Like the coyness, baby."

She shuddered in disgust.

The armodillo seemed familiar to Squall, and then he remembered there were two of them. "It's that blue thing," he said confidently.

The golem looked pissed, looked like it might utter something of disapproval, and then it scampered off to the lake. Stillness resolved then, until the six of them felt a strange presence in their company. However, it was too late to react.

The Blobra attacked with a sweeping movement unbeknownst to them. Its slick body contorted to form an arm of blue slime that snapped out and barrelled Quistis and Selphie to the ground and flipped Irvine in a semicircle onto his back. The disgusting blue creature was silent but deadly. It had enormous green eyes and a huge gaping maw. Squall forgot the golem's riddle, took his sword, and embedded it into the liquid flesh of the creature. The Blobra was surprised at the sudden motion but pleased at the result. The gunblade was stuck and wouldn't pry out. The creature smelled, and the scent was overpowering Squall. In a reckless move, Squall cocked the trigger and a Blitz stone erupted the Blobra's body and hurled Squall against a wall knocking the SeeD temporarily unconscious. The Blobra's body formed back into a jelly ooze, and it proceeded soundlessly to attacking the others.

Rinoa thought quicker than the others and sang a much better incantation. A stronger version of the blizzara spell enveloped the jelly ooze and crushed it. The green eyes looked at her in surprise, and the creature was visibly pained. Zell thought the perfect opportunity to test drive Quetzacotyl some more. He ordered them to stay back and he jumped in front of the creature unleashing the thunder god. Inside the tower, no doubt disturbing the Guardians, the yellow and green striped bird formed from a thundercloud and hovered over the blue ooze. Studying the creature enthusiastically and deducing that the creature's main weakness was against thunder magicka, the GF formed a catastrophic ball of lightning and impaled the Blobra with enough electrical energy to power Deling City for a month. Nothing but charred floor, walls, and ceiling remained. The six humans bodies felt frayed from the carnage, and the thunder god smiled with indifference on the humans and left in a cloud of feathers. Zell looked at them, realized the attack was overkill, and smiled sheepishly.

Squall knocked the kinks out of his head and led the way to the top of the tower, pissed off at the ticking clock and wondering just what time it actually was. The six of them found the pale Minotaur caressing his wounds and eyeing the six extraordinary humans warily. A smaller creature was sitting on a throne beside him with a small sceptre looking wary as well.

Squall had had enough. "All we want is the code number to the fucking King's chest!! If you please."

His comrades folded their arms across their chests, and he let his gunblade rest beside his leg. Green blood from the Minotaur soaked the blade from point to hilt. The two behemoths saw the humans and knew instinctively that they were not entirely normal creatures. The smaller one, who seemed to be the Minotaur's "big" brother, dropped from his throne and waddled over to the humans, his sceptre making loud noises against the hollow walls. "All you want is the code number, huh? " His voice was squeaky and high. "Tough love, pitiful human!"

"Bro!" The Minotaur wailed. "These guys are very strong! They've crashed the tomb and beaten the trials!"

"And?"

"Sacred, bro! I think we should team up with them. That'd be sweet!"

"Team up with us?" Squall asked. The others were visibly surprised.

"Yes, we're guardian forces, representing the wonders of the earth."

Minotaur furthered, "We can be of great assistance if you want us!"

Squall was puzzled but intrigued. "Like what?"

Sacred fished in his pocket for a medallion. He tossed it to Squall. "For starters." The medallion was the King's code number _0524_. "Since time seems to be of your best interest, and it is about ten minutes to eight o clock, we can help you get there in time."

"Ten minutes to eight?"

"That's right."

"The hell can you get us there that fast," Zell asked. "It takes us at least an hour."

"We work closely with Diablos," Minotaur explained. "He can help us out."

"We're the Brothers. We can do whatever we want."

Squall looked at his companions and found only relief flowing in their faces. Turning back to the GFs, he said, "Consider yourself hired."

"Your power," Minotaur said, eyeing his sword, "is mighty strong. You mind if we imbue ourselves on your sword?"

Squall looked at the Cutting Trigger and envisioned the process. He nodded affirmatively. Both of the creatures breathed a sigh of relief and exhaled sharply. Mist enveloped their bodies and evaporated them. The excess mist travelled to the blade of his weapon and flowed all the way down to his hilt, and he felt the gunblade get stronger and heavier. More powerful. At the same time, the top of the tower opened up, and Rinoa felt the gem containing the underworld diety grow powerful in her palm. Suddenly, all six seemed to be teleporting at great speed high up into the air. They saw the tomb below them, the great northern sea, the vast cliffs of Galbadia, and Deling City. The essence of Diablos and the Brothers sailed them wispfully away at speeds that made their bodies seem very ill at ease. The gods landed them perfectly near the gates of the metropolis just in time to spare.

Except they wasted three minutes throwing up from the ride.

The Brothers called Squall inside his mind, and Sacred muttered sheepishly, "We've forgot to tell you about the side effects."

_It's the life of a human,_ he responded.

When they were done puking and stretching from the supernatural experience, they saw Maurice the watchman gazing at them stupefied and suddenly realized the real operation was at hand. Squall once again had the distinct impression that there was more than met the eye in the background politics.


	10. Witchhunt

_Hard Tribulation_

_Relieved from the guarded Tomb,_

_The Witchhunt begins_

"Oh, my, I haven't seen something like this in quite a while," the old watchman named Maurice chuckled to himself. He had to restrain his jokes a bit at the sight of six young adults standing before him with ripped clothing, dried bloody skin, and vomit on their shoes. He had a hard time indeed.

Squall Leonhart ignored the comment and walked slowly up to him with the dead King's ID. "_0524_. It was sort of anticlimactic at the end."

Maurice took the badge, examined it nonchalantly, and then tossed it aside.

"What're you doing?"

The old man laughed. "Ha, the General was only putting you through the ropes, right Miss Rinoa?"

Rinoa vaguely acknowledged that, and the rest of the group looked about ready to pass a kidney stone. Squall was about to say something negative, before the old watchman cut him off with a wave of his hand. "The eight o clock time limit is not set in stone, but there's no use in delaying the inevitable, right?"

Squall mentally cursed inside and reluctantly nodded.

"The main thoroughfares have become progressively crowded since your departure, young ones. So, we'll go the back route to escape most of the traffic. It'll cut us through some poorer neighborhoods, but it'll be the fastest mode. Plus, you can put on some fresh new clothes that are not... so dirty as the ones you're wearing now."

Both Squall and Irvine didn't like that too much-- they loved their signature wear. The three ladies seemed eager at that notion, especially Rinoa considering the outfit she'd already in mind. Zell seemed indifferent to the whole matter.

Regardless, Maurice led them into the train depot, now bustling with tons of people-- mostly foreign visitors from as far off as Belgrade on the southern tip of the eastern continent, some five thousand miles away! A whole bunch of chatter lit up the large station, and a few perplexed looks came the gang's way at their dishelved appearance. The old watchman led them to a small bus, and the driver whisked them away as soon as they buckled up. The dingy little ride plowed off the main road and down a dirty side street, past a couple of troublesome gang-filled alleys, and then cut across three large swaths of districts. Small parades for the local figureheads were busy taking place, and Galbadian riot police were out in full force. There was a security camera system streamlined along the entire main road where the President and his ambassador would be travelling on at about nine that evening. The whole regiments of the riot and control squadrons of the Galbadian and Deling force was parlayed on the main thoroughfare with several assistance corps units on some of the major backroads of the city. The only thing missing was a strict curfew time like the kind that took place decades before. Reasonably, the movement was based on the idea of a peace treaty pending at the World Economic Forum at DeWiltzer, so the citizens of Deling City were obliged to partake in the celebration. An estimated five million people were expected to view the ceremony, a record number of attendees the world had seen at any event.

The mansion of General Rafeal Carroway sat atop a beautiful lush hill with a massive garden on all four sides. Strong-bar gates wrapped around it, and a string of video surveillance units captured all sides and angles. A long bridge extended from the porch to the main thoroughfare, for the hill contained a deep gulch all the way around the mansion. The only way in and out, supposedly, was through the one entrance where the bridge connected, and three guards served lookout duty. A string of unseen guards looped around the circular gated fence, and a couple snipers lay perched on the rooftop. _Apparantly,_ Squall mused to himself, _the assassination attempts were true._ He wondered if the General truly had a damaged back. The mansion was four stories tall with two large columns shooting up as lookout towers. Solid brick and concrete gave the impression of an impregnable castle, and a banner symbolizing the Carroway family coat-of-arms hung on a golden pole on the leftmost tower.

As the rickety bus pulled up to the gates, and Maurice gave the appropriate signal to his subordinates, Squall began to probe himself with thoughts and questions again. He held the pamphlet containing their assignment, and he couldn't shake off the magnitude of it. _The plan is to kill the Sorceress Edea,_ his mind churned.

Yet, something didn't seem right to him. He looked at the others but could tell from their dumbfounded expressions that they were more impressed with how the castle-like mansion looked than how the assignment looked. He thought the mansion was big and ugly, not something to garner great praise for. He was sick of the elitest scum who flaunted their wealth so much and squandered so little of it from the poor. The sight of that big ugly castle on the big ugly hill above the big ugly gulch made his stomach churn. He tempted a glance at Rinoa's face and was confused yet interested to find boredom being affixed there. She definitely didn't feel enthused about being here at this particular moment.

They got out of the ride and slowly walked across the bridge. The air was cool and chilly up here on the northern part of the western continent. Another few months from now, and the first signs of snow would fall signalling the coming autumn seasons. He didn't want to lose his fabled clothes, yet he reckoned he could save the jacket. It sure looked good on him, or at least he thought it did.

They had reached the entrance, and he once again solidified his contempt for the background politics. _Both Balamb and Galbadia Garden have joined forces with the General from the Deling Army. Or... maybe he's the general of the Galbadian army, or Westonian army now? Whatever. The question is, why? _

_A coup de tat?_

That idea surprised him. Maybe the General was unhappy about the situation with Vinzer Deling? Maybe he was unhappy with the appointee to the ambassador? Squall actually had never heard of Sorceress Edea before yesterday, and even now he could hardly remember any Sorceress at all. Only from the textbooks had he heard of Sorceress Adel from the golden years of war two decades ago, but no Sorceress had since been around after that battle. He wished he could remember how it ended then, but as he had found out, the records had been scrapped.

He stopped walking, puzzling his company behind him. A sickening but sobering feeling came over him. _SeeDs aren't meant to question the mission._ Article One, Section One floated into his mind's eye: _~~~Never, under any circumstances, question the assigned mission. Even under extraneous circumstances should you as an ambassador of SeeD ever question the mission~~~_ Set in stone, pretty much.

"Hey, Mr. Leader!"

Squall turned slowly to the voice and noticed Irvine waving at him with a dumb expression on his face. "Whatcha waiting for?"

Squall realized all five of them were staring at him oddly. He shrugged off the crappy feeling he had inside him and said lamely, "Just enjoying the cool weather we got here, that's all."

Irvine nodded calmly, not buying it. Zell did, though, and he ran past him while saying, "Yeah, I like it just as much as anybody, but let's go inside, okay?" Not waiting for a reply, the brawler barrelled inside almost knocking over a butler in the reception hall.

Quistis sighed annoyed, "Damn that man. When will he ever get some manners?"

Selphie linked arms with her. "Don't worry about him. It's cold out here, Quisty, let's go inside!"

The former instructor smiled and let herself be dragged inside.

Irvine strode up to Squall and tipped his hat in the two girl's direction. "Now there's a couple of leading ladies who'll look good for the part."

Squall rolled his eyes. "Are guns and women the only things you think about?"

Irvine cocked an eyebrow. "Do I seriously have to think on that one?"

Squall pushed him aside and shook his head, as the cowboy laughed his way inside the mansion.

The Squad Leader felt a pair of eyes and turned to the one person who hadn't yet entered. Rinoa had a despondent look on her face. "What's wrong?" Squall asked.

She scratched the back of her right leg with her left boot. "Is our contract still viable?"

_What're you talking about now?_ Squall thought.

She saw his confused look and then looked away past him. "Don't leave me in this house, okay? Do you want me to explain why?"

"He's your father, right?"

"It's more complicated than that."

_Shit. This might take a while._ "You should know by now. If you tell us what to do, we'll do it. Once was good enough."

Rinoa looked at him for a second, and he saw at once the same pretty greenish-hazel eyes he had seen at the dance party back at Garden. He wished he could tell for certain what color they were, yet at the same time he did not want to give the impression that he was taking that much interest in it. Truthfully he wasn't trying to, but he had to admit-- he was curious.

Another awkward second transpired, and he shrugged, "I think we need to go."

"Right, right," she answered, "I was just wondering."

They went inside and met the four in the reception hall who each gave them a stare. She caught their gaze with a motion of her hand and led them down the exquisitely-decorated hallway. Apart from the reception hall that sported one of the world's finest chandeliers and several sought-after tapestries, the conjoined hallway they walked through held some of the most beautiful busts they had ever seen. The busts contained each of the previous twenty-two Carroways who had inhabited the city and the mansion before Mr. Rafeal ascended the power. An interesting question, that the group did not know the answer to, was whether the mansion had always belonged to the Army. A lot of the busts wore resemblances of army wear, but some looked scholarly, suggesting an early time when Deling was not ruled under a militant thumb. Rinoa didn't seem to care about the fancy gold and silver, or for that matter the intricate ruby-laced rugs they were travelling on. She was actually in a hurry, and they could actually hear her huffing and puffing.

They eventually entered what looked like a study. A large room with green walls, pink carpeting over a wood floor, a sofa, three chairs, and a desk with a comfy leather chair behind it. A large bookcase containing a whole assortment of intriguing titles prompted Irvine to immediately find one that he obviously seemed to know its location; he took it and plunked himself into the chair and seemed to find the place where he had left off. He took off his fedora and rested it on his boots that he now placed comfortably on top of the desk. Squall thought he owned the place from the cowboy's mannerisms.

Rinoa immediately sat on the chair closest to the door and pouted. She looked very uncomfortable. Quistis and Selphie slowly entered the study and each took the sofa and a spot by the window, respectively. Zell was not the first one to gather that an especially long wait was being presented to them, and he grunted loudly. Then he started pacing around the room in a loopy circle that would last for the next thirty minutes.

Squall noticed a wine wall near Rinoa, as well as a busty statue. He took a moment to admire the "fine-looking" porcelain, and then he scanned the nice selection of wine. Rinoa nodded at his offer to try one, and he pulled a delicious bottle of merlot and poured each of them a glass. Irvine requested two, but Rinoa didn't take a pinch. She secretly wanted one, but her nerves were fried. She continuously rubbed her hands together in a highly nervous form. Squall had to walk away, because her insecurity was ruining the taste of his alcohol.

Around the thirty-minute mark, the Squad Leader knew the semantics of the mission was fucked up. Something was going on behind the scenes, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Unfortunately, he had drunk three glasses of wine, and he figured coming off strong while coaxed under the effects of red wine would not be the best thing to do.

As he was reaching the glass up to his lips, Rinoa sighed loudly startling him. And the others. She dug her nails into the armchair and then quickly shot up. "Always he does this to guests! So discourteous." She gave a little snarling sound that made even Irvine cringe when he heard it. The raven-haired, pink-toned harlot started walking to the door, before she turned to them again. "Listen, everyone, this is my house, so make yourselves a belated welcome here."

"Wh--Where are you going?" Selphie asked from the window.

"I'm gonna go complain." She left them, and the door slammed shut.

Squall smacked himself in the forehead and shuddered. _Hope this doesn't lead to trouble._ He went to go sit down and attempt to finish the wine, but he found that it tasted really bitter now.

Zell shook his head furiously. "Damn, what's this all about, anyway?"

"Could be lots of things," Irvine said, not taking his eyes off the book.

Squall sighed. _Yeah, could be lots of things._

After five minutes, the door reopened, but when they all looked they did not see the girl reappear. Instead, a tall guant man entered the room. A military man with lots of medals punctuated on his suit. His hair was gray, his face was strained, and he was supporting himself on a cane. The wound on his back gave him away immediately.

General Rafeal Carroway entered the room gracefully as best he could, and he was young enough to disguise the wound he had suffered. Still, he looked pained enough. Irvine put the book down, but he kept his feet up on the desk.

Squall could tell the General had seen Rinoa along the way. Nobody else followed him through the door. "Where's Rinoa?"

Carroway gave him a look that Squall felt was condescending. An instant dislike of the man shadowed him. The General responded, "She's somewhere else at the moment. She has not received the training you all have had; and, I fear, she will become a burden on this mission."

"A burden?"

"It's for the best, Mr. Leonhart. She must stay out of this mission."

"I see. Are you familiar with all of our names?"

"Yes, I am. I must thank Headmasters Martine and Kramer for their just decisions. Mr. Leonhart, Mr. Dincht, Miss Tilmitt, Miss Trepe, and Mr. Kinneas, you all are most welcome in my abode."

Irvine tipped his hat to the General that the man returned in a slightly informal way. Walking to the window where Selphie had been, the spunky SeeD asked him, "Are you Rinoa's father for real?"

Carroway whirled toward her, and Selphie thought she had said a curse word in his presence. The military leader relaxed, though, and seemed to grow depressed. "Father. Eh, I don't remember when was the last time she called me that."

"Damn," Zell cursed, drawing a surprised and angry eye from Quistis but an ambivalent one from the General. "So, if that's true and all for real, you're a top officer for a powerful country, and she's.... she's the head of a powerful resistance faction?" The brawler was shocked and he shook his head. "That cannot be good."

Squall always thought the tattooed boy was easily riled up. He wanted badly to tell him to give it a fucking rest, but the wine was too much in his system.

Carroway sighed. "Yes, it's a serious problem."

The group was yearning for something more, but nothing else came.

Finally, the General added lamely, "It's our problem, really. None of your concern."

This time Squall couldn't hold back. _Our contract is a different matter_. "Once our mission is accomplished here, we are working for Rinoa. The contract from the Headmaster, signed by her, states specifically so. Regardless of the matters you have with your daughter, don't let it interfere when the time comes."

The comment was brash, but he could feel the wine flowing through. It felt pretty fucking good, too.

Carroway whirled on him and said, "What if I do?"

_Goddammit._ "Look, we're all SeeDs here. We'll act accordingly."

He was surprised to find Zell, Quistis, and Selphie agreeing with him, and apparantly the General was, too. Carroway looked at all four of them and did not know what to say.

Irvine cleared his throat, and they looked at him. The cowboy kicked his fedora off to his hand and placed it neatly on his head. "We have a sorceress to knock off guys, so let's get on to it." He pulled out his Bismarck, cocked it to the ready, and sat in the chair ready to rock and roll.

His four companions approved visibly, and the General sighed ever more depressingly. Yet, he walked to the door addressing them to follow him. "Then, let me explain the plan." He looked at the five of them, though, and took a careful glance over their dishelved appearances. "It may be best to get you all cleaned up first before we begin."

* * *

Right after nine o clock, the group was standing on the General's back porch with a convienient secret opening to lead to the main thoroughfare. It seemed that Carroway had loads of surprises in store for his visitors, as long as the snipers kept a keen eye on them. The five-man gang had taken quick showers, drawn more healing powers from the GF gems and magical orbs, and had donned fresh, clean clothes. Squall and Irvine, however, had stubbornly elected to not toss out their jackets. Somehow, they came up with an ingenius cleaning method and managed to get most of the bloodstains out of the leather. Squall had found a tan wifebeater and dark brown pants, but was disappointed to not uncover a decent belt for his sword. Plucking a dark brown notched belt from the storage closet, he frowned disapprovingly at the way the scabbard now hung on him. Irvine secretly wished the General had a better taste in clothing, for he was now dressed in a cowboy uniform too outlandish even for him-- white puffy undershirt, puffy dark blue pants, and black galoshes. Zell, of course, had a mighty good snicker about that.

The other three members had found tastes appropriate to their liking. Zell, some comfortable sneakers and a dark green shirt; Quistis, a blue bodysuit that looked similar to her previous red one; and Selphie, an orange dress similar to her yellow dress.

The gray-haired General stooped hard on his cane and gingerly rubbed his back. There was time to chitchat, he figured. "Mr. Leonhart."

Squall didn't mind strict protocol, but the formailty of this man had really to started to bug him. "Sir, just 'Squall', is fine."

Carroway shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, then... Squall, I must say that I am truly sorry I put you all through the Tomb trial."

"Tch," Zell muttered, "a couple of hours wasted if you ask me."

"Hey," Irvine butted in, "we got a couple of GFs out of it."

"Who the hell cares, that was a waste of our time, I'm sorry."

"I admit," Carroway said, suppressing a smile, "it was. But I am very surprised that you all did exceedingly well. You all seem to be very skilled ambassadors."

"The _very_ skilled ambassadors!" Selphie chirped, jumping into the air.

"It gave us a chance to work together as a full group," Quistis added, emphasizing some certain qualification she felt the whole of them needed.

Squall sighed. "Regardless, shouldn't we let that pass and get on with the mission?"

"Quite right, Squall," Carroway said, "I only wanted to share my opinion, and ... admit my guilt." He indicated the secret walkway. "This area is shielded from view from any building or street, and it is the most heavily guarded area of the compound."

"What about by plane?" Selphie asked.

"No-fly-zone."

"Well guarded, huh?" Zell asked.

Carroway started walking down the path, and the rest of them followed. "_Very_ well-guarded. Only one time has this area been breached, but that was when a mole in the system led them to enter the front gates and bomb the left pillar of the mansion. That was a couple years ago, over some strife about the monetary policies of Galbadia. Only once, though, has a personal attack succeeded."

The group could feel the eyes of the snipers upon them as well as hidden eyes from all around them viewing their every move. At first the group thought the General was leading them straight to a wall, but the green-leaf camoflauge was actually the opening to a massive tunnel beneath the city streets that opened up to a grassy field. When they turned behind them, there was nothing but a large thick wall. It was an optical illusion that made it look like they materialized out of thin air. Guards were seen visibly patrolling the grounds, and the General made a right turn, and they walked up a gradual incline onto the main thoroughfare.

"I trust," he began, massaging his lower back again, as he walked steadily on his cane, "you all are fully aware about the appointment and mutual understanding between Galbadia and Sorceress Edea, correct?"

"Aye, sir," Quistis answered. "Where did this Sorceress come from, if you don't mind me asking."

"She was involved in foreign affairs deep within the Ministry of Truth in the Galbadian stronghold of Kelso deep in the southern hills of Galbadia. She had made close contact with the Trabian government for quite some time, until she caught the attention of Vinzer Deling and his Cabinet. Since then, she went through the ropes and worked her way up the speaking levels. I do find the appointment rather odd, but she's a talented speaker. So, I guess that's one way to get a good rally."

His four comrades nodded their heads at that understanding, but for the first time Squall was struck by a different chord of the facts: the name of the Sorceress seemed very familiar to him. Yet, why, he did not know. Names had passed him by so many times that he found it rather odd to be stuck on one at this present point.

"There's a ceremony taking place tonight, as you all know," the General continued. The streets were packed with people, but Carroway knew the ins and outs of the city like the back of his hand. They veered around stopped traffic, cut through crowds of bumbling tourists unacclimated to the cold weather, and took every shortcut the group could think of. "The Presidential Palace. That's the place where it will be held." He seemed to take great pride, oddly enough, in pronouncing the title. "It's in the direct center of the city."

The main thoroughfare would have normally widened into the big oval at the direct center, where the opulent three-story Presidential Palace overlooked the three-way intersection. However, a ring of guards had encircled the oval and were currently ushering the throngs of people to entertain themselves elsewhere in the city before the real party began. The guards made room for Carroway and his five VIPs, and they entered the big oval. They had entered the western side of the oval; the eastern side went to the large shopping commons of the metropolis and eventually segwayed into the richer affluent side of the city, while the southern side led to a big clocktower and eventually to some of the poorer sections of the city. The Palace was to the north, and each of them took a moment to gaze at what was Vinzer Deling's new home.

"The President is currently inside, as well as the Sorceress. My guess is that they're covering some very important rehearsals or something to that effect."

"You are not briefed on the subject-matter, sir?" Squall asked.

"No, Squall. I am not."

"But this is your city."

Carroway seemed perturbed. "Only in charge of the Guard, am I."

Squall didn't know what to say.

The General didn't either, for he switched it back to the assignment. He directed their attention to the clocktower. "That is the gateway. It's the biggest entrance to the center of the city and represents an historic landmark of a previous naval battle that became a land fight. Allegedly, it was against a corrupt organization of the city that sided with the merciless Sorceress Adel some two decades ago. It is known as the Gateway, and it is there where the gateway team will preside in this plan. Three of you will be on that team, and you will wait on standy by up there in the top floor."

They stood on the edge of the eastern sidewalk, and he directed their attention to the Palace with a wave of his hand. "The two-man Sniper team will stand by at the front gate of this Palace until the ceremony is over. The gates will open at roughly thirty minutes after midnight. The speech given by the Sorceress is expected at midnight, and it is expected not to last long due to the impatience of the populace. At twelve-thirty, roughly then, the gates will open, and her parade will commence. Lay low on this sidewalk until the appropriate time. If you cannot see the time on that clocktower, the Palace will have a digital one operating on the top of it. The whole matter will be cancelled if there is any roughhousing or commotion prior to the parade."

He adjusted his position to relieve some pressure in his back. Wincing, he continued, "When the gates open, the Sniper team will move in, keeping low in the process. The parade will draw the crowd, as well as the guards, so it should be fairly simple to get in. Head for the roof around the back and climb into the third story. In the corridor nearest the Sorceress's room is a hatch. You cannot miss her room, for it will be draped in her colors of blue and red. Go down the hatch. A special clocktower, designed for the amusement of the citizens, is in there. A carousel clock with a sniper rifle hidden near the stepladder. Wait on standy until one o clock."

A large crowd escorted by the police was drawing nearer to them, and he switched the conversation to some light-hearted topic that the five-man gang helped move along until the large crowd passed them. Sighing discontentedly, he resumed, "This city is too big sometimes. At roughly twelve-thirty, the parade will start out of that gate and veer slowly to the eastern side of this massive oval coming awfully close to where we are now. The idea of this is to welcome the crowd to the presence of the Sorceress, in some wierd way of showcasing the populist vibe she emits. Slowly, the float will veer all around the outer circle going westwardly. It then will head north again to the Palace, but it'll stop and turn south ending up in the center of this oval. She'll stand and make some fireworks for the crowd to enjoy, and then she'll head south for the Gateway. This process will take thirty minutes to be sure, allowing each team plenty of time to get into position.

"Gateway team, they will start acting at this point. The float will head south," he indicated with his arm in a sweeping motion, "down to the big clocktower. As you can see, if you look closely, the tower is long and wide with barred gates on both the northern and southern side of it. At exactly one o clock, the parade will pass underneath that tower. The Gateway team on the top floor has access to a black control box that operates the tower's gates. At exactly one o clock, the team will release the switch, and the gates will drop trapping the Sorceress inside." He caught their eyes and swooped them to the Presidential Palace. "At the same time, the carousel clock will rise up in plain view for everyone to see. There will be no obstruction in the way for the sniper. Steady your aim, focus, and then release. The bullet will fly through the air and straight into her neck, killing her instantly."

Each of them took in a short breath, as they realized that this was a one-shot deal. Like the Dollet Dukedom warfront, this was a life-or-death situation. Irvine, the designated sharpshooter, looked particularly uncomfortable, but when Squall turned to get a better look at him he straightened up to hide his personal feelings.

Carroway looked at his watch. "Almost ten. In two hours, the speech begins. So, you're free til then. Meet up at my residence, though, in an hour and a half so we can formulate the teams." When they nodded in reply, though, he added, "One thing. Stay out of trouble, please."

Squall gave him a look that the General returned and then quickly hobbled off on his cane.

_Who do you think we are?_ Squall thought, _You're fucking daughter?_

The crowds had grown too dense by the time their briefing had expired. They returned to the General's mansion, and prepared to engage the inevitable. Carroway was surprised at the group's headstrong determination, and he took a moment before addressing them all in a most diligent manner. The time was roughly a quarter to eleven. They would all have a long, grueling one-hour wait. "Everyone ready?"

"'Firmative, boss man," Irvine replied with a wave of his hand. The black fedora on his head looked goofy with his puffy clothing.

Carroway shurgged good-humoredly. "Fine by me. Let us assign the teams."

The five-man group adjusted themselves in their positions. Irvine did the least amount of work, preferring instead to relax comfortably against the desk. He swore up and down that he never missed a shot. The time had come to test that mettle.

"The sniper and the Squad Leader make up the Sniper team. Who pray tell is which?"

"Sniper extraordinaire, over here, sir," Irvine hollered, waving his hand around in a circle.

The four looked at him, and Squall gave a visible scowl. "I'm the Squad Leader." His voice was annoyed. _Why am I designated the leader all the time?_

"Good," Carroway replied. "The Squad Leader's role is vital."

_Eh?_

"Should the sniper fail--"

"Never miss a shot, General," the puffy cowboy interjected.

"--the leader's role is to assault the Sorceress head-on. This is a carefully devised plan, and Martine and I have made no exceptions to the formulaics. This is probably the most riskiest maneuver you'll want to do. But Galbadia Garden, as well as Balamb and on behalf of the Deling Guard, wishes that the training of the sharpshooter is sufficient enough to warrant that approach useless. But," and his eyes bore heavily into Squall's, "it is vitally important that that Plan B, if you want to call it that, must be inititated if Plan A does not materialize successfully."

"Understood, sir," Squall answered. "The Sniper team is decided. Just leaves the Gateway team."

Zell's distinct sigh gave Squall interest to look his way. The tattooed brawler seemed on the verge of splitting himself open with joy. With all the exuberance of a hyper teenager, he really looked like he wanted to be the leader. Unfortunately for him, Squall was about ready to burst out laughing. Something the scarred gunblader had never done much in his life.

He turned to Quistis instead. "Instructor, er, Quistis Trepe. You're in charge of the Gateway." He did not look, but he heard the distinct sound of disappointment from the brawler.

The former instructor couldn't hold back a smile, and Selphie gave a loud giggle.

General Carroway was wondering what the hell was going on, but he waved it off. "The mission begins, then. Five minutes to eleven. Sniper team, follow me to the Presidential Palace. Gateway team, leave five minutes past eleven. This is a covert mission. Let us try to act in secret the whole time."

Everyone saluted the General who managed a crisp return salute back despite his back injury, and Squall and Irvine followed him out the door.

Zell, not thoroughly dejected by the denial of his leadership, was all geared up and pumped to begin. As soon as the door closed, he jumped into the air and fist-pumped it, barely suppressing shouts of joy.

"Well, you seem excited, Zell!" Selphie chirped. She felt the same way, too, ready to unhitch her Morning Star and swing it around in a circle.

"Hell yeah, girl! This calls for a celebration afterwards. No matter what happens, we can take on anything!"

Quistis walked over to him, put a hand on his shoulder to steady his nerves, but visibly reflected the general enthusiasm. "Just have to wait ten minutes before we leave, and then we can carry it on."

"Ah," Selphie sighed, "but then we'll have to wait even longer afterwards."

Quistis's eye caught the tapestries and noticed how beautiful the paintings looked. "Gives us enough time to check out the place first." She went to the tapestry on the right side of the window and looked at the countryside depiction. Cool swaths of paint overlapped a gentle vibe emanating from the painting. Unlike her comrade's exuberance, she was feeling highly nervous. Looking at artwork or reading a book always calmed her nerves in times of stress. Sometimes, though, she wished for a more peaceful set of emotions-- her fuse was awfully short for her liking.

She heard Zell ooh and ahh over the bust in the corner, and she sighed. It seemed all men like voluptous women too much, the kind of slink and skank that always irritated her too much. Much like... she shuddered-- she didn't really want to think of Rinoa in that image.

Stirring them from their thoughts, they heard some whining and pawing at the shut door, and when Selphie went to open it Angelo shot through. Barking joyfully, he met a surprised Selphie's warm embrace and licked her face.

Equally surprising, Rinoa herself appeared into the study, and she looked around frantically for something, or someone. "Hello!" Her voice was unusually chirpy and loud. She had changed somewhat from a black dress and biker shorts to a tan dress and biker shorts. She had kept the blue button-coat and had managed to get her own dirty stains out somehow. She was smelling good with some fancy perfume, as well.

When none of them responded, since they were equally surprised yet slightly annoyed given the crucial time limit employed on them, she shrugged her shoulders, and asked, "Did that man say anything?"

"Where have you been?" Selphie asked.

She vividly recalled the trick he had played on her that ended up locking her in the basement, so she couldn't join in on their conversation. "He corralled me away from participating, but I managed to get out of there with my partner's help."

Angelo gave her a look as if saying he didn't want to be held responsible.

"Did that man say anything?" she repeated. She was looking at Zell, seeming well aware that he was the weakest to reasonably tell the truth.

Under the pressure, he backed up a few paces. "No, not really."

"Uh-huh. No matter. Where's Squall? The cowboy's gone too."

Quistis started to get angry. They were wasting valuable time. "They're gone at the moment, Rinoa. And so us three should be, too. Time is of the essence."

"So he did say something important, huh?"

"Rinoa---"

The raven-haired harlot giggled. "Just a sec. Take a look at this." Fully aware of Quistis's annoyed expression, she lazily delved into the pocket of her blue button-coat and fished out a small circular device with a silver lining wrapped around it. A red jewel was embedded in it.

Zell gasped, the realization of the object known full well to him based upon his extensive knowledge of the _Combat King_ mags. "That's an Odine bangle! Number one in magical goods."

Rinoa smiled big. "Exactly. I found in that man's dresser."

"You stole it from him?" Selphie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I'm just temporarily using it. Even though the chest was locked, and there's a sledgehammer lying next to it." She gave the shocked SeeD a childish smile and then walked across the room juggling the device in her hands. "This is one of those things scientists say can be used to suppress a Sorceress's powers. Rumors say that sorceresses love jewelry so much that it becomes one of their main weak spots. A vanity issue, perhaps. Its effects are still unknown in some regards. I bet that man has never once used it, too."

A slam against the armchair startled Rinoa, Selphie, and Zell. Quistis looked irate. Her skin was flushed, and her eyes looked ready to bulge from their sockets. "What the hell are you planning to do, you silly girl? Ask calmly and nicely for her to put that on? In what half-assed mind could somebody possibly do that, how, why, and when?" She looked on the verge of tearing every hair out of her head, and possibly Rinoa's too.

The resistance fighter looked shocked to form words, but she quickly pulled herself together placing the bangle back into her pocket. "Well, that's what we're planning to discuss."

"Planning to-- what the fuck!" Her swearing tore at Selphie and Zell like someone had shanked them with a butcher knife. Rinoa looked distressed and angry at the same time. Quistis, though, could not be stopped. "Squall and Irvine are already at their positions, standing by. There's a major operation going on, and you're talking about things that make no apparant sense whatsoever. And always drowning on about 'that man this' and 'that man that'. He's your fucking father, for Eden's sake! Do you not understand that we three are here to carry out the most crucial operation of our lives, not to get wrapped up in some father-daughter quarrel over spilt milk!! This isn't a goddamn game, you fool!" Short on breath, her face red as a tomato, she whirled away from Rinoa and stormed out of the study. Selphie and Zell looked at each other, looked at Quistis's exit, looked at Rinoa, and then back at each other again. They heard Angelo give a sad whimper, and then they headed out. Wanting to say something of solace, they couldn't for time really was not on their side.

Rinoa had a surge of loathing pass over her, but at the same time dejection overcame her harder. She wasn't a SeeD, but she was a determined lass. That woman's harsh fit ached her so much that she had to sit down. Angelo looked at her and slowly walked towards her outstretched legs, whimpering more and more. He was sad when she didn't even reach over to pet him behind the ears.

"I know this isn't a game," she said bitterly. Even saying that, though, hurt a lot inside.

* * *

The Sniper team walked out of the secret tunnel and into the full-on throng of the crowds. If either of them were not claustrophobic by nature, they sure were now. People of all ages and sizes, some drunk some high, were jostling each other as if in some inebriated mosh pit. Both men kept their weapons concealed underneath their jackets, although Squall couldn't do much to conceal his long scabbard.

They entered the oval that now was swarmed with people and found their waiting spot unobstructed by careless partygoers. Both of them realized by looking at the digital clock that it would be a long forty-five minutes.

The cowboy was playing with his auburn ponytail to Squall's annoyance-- he could never understand why some guys grew their hair out so long that it rivalled women's. He cleared his throat to get the sharpshooter's attention. "On the full-frontal assault, I'll make the first charge in order to buy some time."

Irvine scoffed. "That won't be necessary. You know I never miss a mark."

"No, I don't know that."

"Bah, come on. Would I _ever_ miss?"

"Most probably. That's why when we make the assault, I'll be making the first charge, okay?"

"Tch," the sharpshooter answered. Doing one last sweep of his hand through the tail, he asked. "Is it true that SeeDs aren't supposed to question their mission?"

_What the hell?_ Squall thought _Man, there are more important things to think about now than stupid fucking mindless questions. Still..._ That question started to bite him a little. "What do you care for?"

Knowing that's what he expected as an answer, Irvine elaborated, "So, if your enemy is pure evil, would you get more fired up to fight them?"

_An enemy that's---? No enemy is purely evil, or good, or purely anything. We're not purely anything. What the fuck kind of question is this? Think up something better, cowboy. Right and wrong are two different things on two different coins-- they're not even fit to be on the same damn coin. And... seemingly... evil, good, wrong, right, these things are purely subjective. Our own experiences and perspectives separate us out from "purely" anythings._

"Thinking a little hard, huh?"

Squall grunted but did not reply.

"I mean, we have some time to kill. Plenty of it, actually. I just want to write on the old chalkboard some more."

_I'll tell you what to write on._

"Squall?"

"Let's just concentrate on the mission, shall we?"

The sharpshooter sighed loudly and turned to check out the looks of the girl several feet away from him.

Across a couple city blocks, the Gateway team was in the process of clamoring their way to the clocktower when Quistis stopped suddenly. A great look of depression was on her face.

Zell looked confused and asked, "Instructor, what's up?"

"We don't have time to wait!" Selphie noted.

"Maybe I was too hard on her," Quistis said so softly they almost barely heard her.

"Too hard on--- wait, Rinoa!!" Zell yelled.

"What are you talking about?" Selphie asked.

"I have to go apologize," the former instructor said, and turned immediately to go back to the mansion.

"What the--" Zell shouted.

"We can't just abandon our post!" Selphie shouted.

The thin form of the blue-clad Quistis was vanishing among the crowd, and the two energetic SeeDs sighed loudly and tried hard to catch up.

* * *

Angelo alerted her to the sound of the opening door. She craned her head around slowly to see who it was, and then sighed annoyingly at the presence of the General standing in the doorway. She turned her head back to its original stare and refused to acknowledge him in words.

Rafeal Carroway refused to be the first one to speak; instead, he calmly observed his daughter lying crosslegged on the floor with her head between her knees. His face grew grave, and if she wasn't there at that minute, he would've visibly sobbed. So much had gone on between them that it was almost impossible for him to dictate it in words. She had lost her mother when she was only five to a horrible car accident up on the major thoroughfare. Her mother was a beautiful woman with talented pianist hands. Rinoa looked just like her, too.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the hinges of the door. The following two hours would raise so much hell there was no telling what fate would befall the five SeeDs in their task. He was surprised to find a small smile forming on his lips: whatever fate befell them, he would distance himself away from the entire mess altogether. He continued to smile, even with Angelo whimpering in confusion at him.

"What is it?" the raven-haired princess snapped.

Carroway lurched out of his reverie and was disappointed to be back in the same dreary atmosphere. He didn't respond instantly, using what little time he had to savor a few precious moments. The pain in his back was beginning to recede thanks to the multitude of sedatives now churning through his body, and he didn't even need the cane at this point. Although, it would've been helpful to have it climbing up all those stairs. "It is best," he said solemnly, "that you stay in here throughout the operation."

She snarled at him and waved her hand irritatingly in the air. The thought of his high moralizing and condescending attitude bugged the shit out of her. It was all she could do in the beginning of the mess to compose her integrity. Here, of all places, she was again. Just over a year ago, she figured she had escaped this place for good, sneaking off in the middle of the night at age sixteen fibbing that she was only going out to catch a few goods from the local mart. Ditching the sight of the watchman, she had hitchhiked on a train and gone as far away as she possibly could-- which only ended her up in Timber, and the start of an interesting life.

When Squall told her the contract was still valid and fully functional, she had breathed a sigh of relief. No matter the outcome of tonight's task, she would be safe in their hands at the end. If only the Squad Leader's heart and mind wasn't so cold, she would've enjoyed the company more.

She had seemingly forgotten her father was in the room and did not hear him leave. She did, however, hear a panel make a loud noise on the shut door and a timer to boot.

"Crap!" she panicked. "He's locking me in!" She rose to her feet, scaring Angelo underneath the couch. The timer was slowly ticking. Reaching to her chest, she grasped the open pendant with her hand and thought hard but quickly. "I can do this," she said softly, and then bolted out of the door before it could lock on her. Knowing the General was still inside the mansion, she made a beeline for a convienent shortcut that would take her through an underground tunnel to the Presidential Palace. The SeeD's plan was well within her realm of knowledge, and she knew exactly the correct path to take.

Her abrupt exit came five seconds before the Gateway team entered the mansion and into the study room. They went full-on inside, ignoring the rapidly speeding timer. Quistis, who knew better than to dodge straight in, had her mind all in a tizzy. She cried out to the open room, "Rinoa, I'm sorry! I--" She stopped dead on her tracks, with Selphie and Zell tripping over the rug. The trapped environment surprised her before she reacted, and the security timer locked them inside.

"Damnit!" Zell cursed, stomping his foot on the floor. "We're caught in the middle of a family quarrel here!"

With all her might, Quistis shoved against the door, fiddled the knob, and even used her whip to slash it apart. To no avail. The door was impenetrable and unbreakable. A sinking feeling then gripped her heart like a vice, and her face was pale when she turned to her comrades. "This is really bad."

"Quistis!" Selphie shrieked coming to her aid, for the former instructor looked ready to buckle. "What's wrong?"

"Rinoa is on her way to meet the Sorceress."

"What?!"

"She wanted to help us."

As they stood in the General's mansion trapped like rats in an experiment, the pink-toned bowgun wielder plowed her way through the underground tunnel and paid no heed to the storage containers lying around the dishelved place. The odine bangle rested comfortably in her blouse, and her mind was wracked by conflicting emotions. The extreme desire to undermine everyone's patronizing of her grafted so incineratingly hot on her mind that she almost stopped and ripped all the hair out of her head. She had the Diablos GF gem in her blouse as well, along with a few magical spells Selphie had given to her.

Though against a Sorceress skilled in dark magic, Rinoa didn't feel entirely too comfortable about fighting her head on. She knew where the witch resided in the Palace-- a small room along the northern annex. A ladder led to it from the backyard, and luckily for her all the guards were out in the front.

Her heart was beating fast as she reached the exit of the tunnel. The closed and locked door there was just as she expected. Reaching between her breasts, she fetched the lockpick nestled in the clasp of her bra. A handy location just in case any snoopy guard was in a frisky mood. She had a fleeting thought that a swift kick in the balls would suffice that problem, though, she was here in the end with no guards around to bother with. She thought she was perfectly relaxed, but her fingers slipped and three times she dropped the pick before finally releasing the bolts and sashaying through.

The three-story Palace greeted her, and she silently swooned her way to the back. She knew she wasn't a member of SeeD, although she had to admit that she was curious about the whole matter. Being with Seifer, who seemed to have never fully passed the tests, and having the reluctant honor of tagging with Squall, who seemed to excel in everything methodical and operational, really intrigued her thoughts. She knew she wasn't cut out for big-time battles, but she hated immensely the way people told her just that.

She reached the ladder thinking these things, and she paused at the foot. The rungs were icy cold, and she flinched at the touch. Her stomach began doing flips, and she hung her head low. Swallowing twice, she gripped the rungs furiously, and a look of determination eclipsed her pretty green eyes. "This is no game. I can do this."

Breathing sharply, she ascended the ladder and rapidly shot to the top. The wind blew harder on the roof of the Palace, and her blue button-up dress flapped in the breeze, and her hair whapped her face. Ignoring the effects, she barrelled on and found the skydeck. Unlatching the loose pane on the eastern end, she lowered herself down and dropped inside the Palace to a crouching stance.

There was a horrible stillness in the air, and the corridor she was in was thick with humidity. It seemed not an open window was ever found here. She tensed suddenly for a deep throated bellow was sounding somewhere. It sounded familiar. The harsh tone, the uproarious inflection. Her nose curled in disgust. It was President Deling, making a speech most probably on the outer deck. She checked her watch and saw that it was just after midnight. The President was to go first and then the Sorceress, so Rinoa figured she was still inside waiting for the pompous dupe to quit his gabbering.

Slowly rising, a replay of the Palace's floorplan carried her off down a couple corners and to the blue and red door with the ancient enscriptions decorating it. Enscriptions of an unusual language the race of Succubi used in the world's olden days. Panic struck the resistance fighter again, but this was it. No turning back now. She wanted to kill the pompous President, instead, but that was a matter best saved for later. The Sorceress was inside, and Rinoa was about to make a name for herself.

She closed her eyes and took a long deep breath, holding the now exposed Odine bangle in both her hands. Releasing the breath, she opened the door and went through.

The first thing she realized: it was bitterly cold inside. She thought her sudden gasp from the abrupt transition would give her away, but the feminine figure in the middle of the room did not make a move. The room was circular and draped in white cloth. A fancy turquoise chandelier with golden trimming hung above the sitting figure. The figure had her back to Rinoa and seemed to be sleeping. She could've been aware of the newcomer, but she made not a move nor a sound.

Her strength and gumption had left her, and Rinoa shook where she stood and stammered when she spoke. The bangle threatened to escape her vice-like grip and shatter on the floor. "H-Hello. Ex---cuse me."

The figure did not respond.

"I-I'm the..." she did not want to admit it even at this point. "I'm the... daughter of the... Deling Guard's General Rafeal Carroway. I-I-I thought I'd come... pay my respects to you... because of my father and all."

Still the figure did not respond.

Swallowing hard, she walked across the room and winced at the loud sounds of her footsteps, knowing full well that the Sorceress was aware of her presence. Still the figure did not respond, even as Rinoa walked right up to the back of her chair.

"I've... come to give you a gift... of appreciation." A small bit of fury enveloped her, and Rinoa quickly latched out the Odine bangle to wrap it around the witch's neck. The action was too late. A bright light illuminated the room, and a strong energy gripped her stomach hard and flung her in three spirals across the room. Her body mangled in a twisted pretzel against some of the drapes on the wall, and the Odine bangle shattered on the floor in a million pieces.

* * *

"And so, my friends," Westonian President Vinzer Deling's voice slithered in a long drawl, "tonight is a night of celebration and commeration. A time of great honor and dignity. A time of deliberation for an everlasting peace with all nations on this great earth."

Squall nudged a dozing Irvine to wake the fuck up, and the cowboy reluctantly forced himself to pay attention. Thankfully, the sack of shit dictator was ending his speech, and Irvine couldn't wait to see what the Sorceress looked like. He had read the books and he knew that almost all the Sorceresses were beautiful vixens and succubi. That was their nature, and it was his nature to dole out his appreciation. In all honesty, he couldn't tell which was greater: guns or women. He wanted to settle for both at the same time, but he was never satisfied with that.

The crowd around them seemed to have had enough of the windbag's blubber and were getting slightly restless. Squall had to smile at that, although it was getting close to twelve-thirty, and he didn't want there to be a big time crunch at the end. Suddenly, both he and Irvine felt a slight wave beat at them, like a particularly strong gust of a breeze. It was funny, though, for the night climate had very little breezes running through it at all. It was one of the clear nights, where the dry cold air was not affected at all by wind.

Funny as well, because the entire crowd seemed to calm instantly down and focus intently on the President's departure from the main podium to a standing position on the side. Inspecting further, Irvine and Squall saw a figure materialize out of the door, as if the frame was liquid, and then walked towards Deling. The crowd immediately started swaying from side to side and lightly working itself up to a cheering standing ovation. The gunblader and the sharpshooter exchanged looks of unease and then refocused on the podium.

The figure reached the podium, and Sorceress Edea viewed the entire length and width of the Gateway Square of Deling City. Some five million from across all stretches of the city limits met her gaze, and she somehow seemed to meet all of theirs within a split second. She was beautiful, as Irvine predicted, and shapely. About 5'3'', she had an hourglass figure underneath a thin silver dress that exposed a deep V-cut and luscious white skin. Her face was statuesque, and she had deep piercing eyes that were an intense green that seemed to lit up her pale skin to a fiery fury. She had what looked like an incredibly bulky yet highly elaborate headdress on; though, she walked towards them with the grace of a deer. Her movements were seductive, and the two SeeDs couldn't help but notice that the entire crowd was captivated.

They also couldn't help but notice a familiar raven-haired princess swaying loosely behind her. It looked like Rinoa Heartilly was under some sort of spell.

Irvine didn't think Squall was aware of her, but when he nudged the Squad Leader he gave a grunt and said, "I know. Be quiet."

The crowd was now cheering into a roar, and the two SeeDs were becoming deafened by the sounds. Yet, the unmistakable voice of the Sorceress sounded above them all, and they couldn't stop cheering.

"Lowlifes..." Edea hissed the word, and the crowd was delighted.

"Filthy wretched scum!"

"How you celebrate my ascencion with joy!!"

The crowd was practically jumping in the air with joy. Squall and Irvine exchanged another look of disbelief.

"Hailing the very one you condemned to death before!"

Irvine motioned Squall to check out Vinzer Deling. The President seemed as uncomfortable as they were. Squall knew something was afoot. What was going on?

Edea slammed her fists against the podium, causing brief static from the microphones and an uproarious cheer from the crowd. "Have you no shame??!! What happened to the evil, ruthless Sorceress from your fantasies!"

"The cold-blooded tyrant that slaughtered countless men and destroyed many nations!"

The crowd was in torrents.

"Where is she now, little ones? She's here! Before you now. The new ruler of the world!" Edea gave a hideous laugh that sent chills down the SeeDs's spine. The Sorceress outstretched her hands to the heavens, and the crowd of some five million cheered their throats sore.

Vinzer Deling slowly walked up to her and tried to calm her tantrum down. Getting no response initially, he reached to stroke her shoulder but stopped in mid-motion. He felt his entire nerves stricken with a lethal poison.

Sighing contentedly, Edea brought him back to life, released a hidden dagger in her sleeve and jammed it into his throat in front of everyone. The blade protruded out of the President's neck, and she kept it there not looking at his bulging eyes, his bleeding gashed wound, nor his twitching body. Above the crowd's excited bellows at the carnage, she heard him sputter manically. Twisting the dagger, she channeled an unseen force and slammed the knife straight down his body ripping the big man in two bloody pieces. The dissected President splattered on the steps of the podium, and rivers of his blood trickled down the front walls of the Presidential Palace.

Frozen in place, Squall and Irvine could do nothing but gape in horror while everyone else was more ecstatic about the death than the hate-filled speech.

Edea flicked as much blood off her hands as she could and then tossed the dagger lazily onto the President's head. The guards were just as entranced as the mass populace, and they cheered at the death of their leader with their guns and swords firmly holstered on their belts. The Sorceress eyed her captivated would-be assassin Rinoa with glee and then twirled her hands in the air. "I will show them a new reign of terror that they have never seen before. First to kick off the evening, a little sacrifice."

Far off on the Gateway lay embedded sculptures of mutated lizards. An unseen force propelled them to awaken from their eternal sleep, and their lazy orange eyes chipped out of the stone, awake. Breathing heavily, the two lizards freed themselves from the clocktower and dropped sharply to the ground killing a couple spectators in the process.

Sorceress Edea left Rinoa standing there and released her from her mind control. Smiling wickedly to herself, the sultry witch descended the third floor and met her Knight, who was patiently atop her float, a wild-looking grin plastered on his face.

The mutated lizards scrambled furiously across the large oval. Squall and Irvine heard the loud galloping above the din of the crowd and were astonished to see the two creatures hurl themselves off the ground with such force that they sailed above the gates and straight onto the third floor. Rinoa Heartilly was at the moment shocked at the severed body of the man she had loathed her whole life lying in a pool of his own blood; she did not see the two lizards sail towards her.

Irvine Kinneas grew desperate. He grabbed Squall's shoulder, startling him. "Fuck, Mr. Leader! She's in big-time trouble!! We have to go help her."

His heart raced rapidly, and his mind was working overtime, but Squall stubbornly shook the hand off him. "The parade hasn't started yet. The gates are not open."

Irvine's jaw dropped. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

"You expect an easy jaunt getting in there, while the gates are still heavily guarded?"

"N--No, but--"

"We can't go just yet."

Irvine realized Squall's tone was strained, and he had to back off at that point.

* * *

"Dammit, it's starting!" Quistis shouted as she looked out the window. She had seen the Sorceress speaking, and she had seen the murder that had taken place. All three of them had seen that. By her watch, Quistis saw that it was twelve-thirty-two. The parade was about two minutes late, but she figured that was to be expected. She turned to the other two who were frantically running around trying to find some way out. "We need to get out of here now!"

"How exactly?" Zell asked sarcastically.

"I---" a quick retort failed her, "... don't know."

Their faces fell. She sat on the couch, and they all heard a low whimper. Spreading the quilt away, they found Angelo hiding underneath it.

"Uh! Angelo, sweetie, what're you doing there?" Selphie cooed, patting her knees. "Come her, boy!"

Angelo ran to the familiar coo and nuzzled her legs.

"We need to get out of here, Sephie," Quistis nagged.

"It's hopeless. There's no way out of this prison.

"Damn, girl," Zell snapped, "you givin up already!"

Angelo whined. Getting off the spunky SeeD, he did what they all hadn't figured out in the first place. Trotting over to the busty statue, he pawed at the base of it and clicked open a hidden lever on the statue's foot. A hydraulic system booted, and the statue flipped around revealing a secret passageway. The dog barked approvingly, licked Selphie's knees one more time, and then dove back under the couch.

"That's the way forward!" Zell loudly exclaimed.

"But we don't even know where it leads," Selphie whined.

"You gonna stay here forever?"

"Hell no."

"Come on you two, let's go!" Quistis shouted, leading the way.

The passageway went down seven flights of stairs, and they noticed immediately a horrible stench and an ever-increasing greenish-brown staining on the walls.

"Goddamn, it smells like shit in here!" Zell wheezed.

When they reached the bottom flight, they found a ladder leading to a short descent to a walkway surrounded by steadily flowing brown goo.

Quistis sighed. "It's a sewer."

"Oh, god! Sweet Eden," Selphie groaned.

"There's no time to moan, you two, we have to go now." Not caring to hear the responses, she descended the ladder and ignored the sticky wet feeling the rungs contained. The smell was ghastly horrible, and the lighting from the dirty coal lamps barely covered more than a foot in front of them. They treaded down the walkway carefully, making sure to not to trip over a dislodged stone into the slimy brink. They turned a couple corners and found a rotating wheel operated by a loud, creaking pulley sifting the piles of crap goo down the sewer stream. The pathway ahead was barred shut, but the wheel was turning clockwise up to a higher path that wasn't obstructed.

Selphie could not get the stench to go away, even from all the nose-plugging she did. She swayed from one foot to the other, as if that would help the situation. Quistis looked at the creaky wheel and figured there were several more just like this one that sashayed up the various levels of the sewer, possibly leading them out of it. "Grab a hold of the wheel."

"Ooh," Selphie groaned, "it's probably all sticky."

"Yeah, it probably is."

The former instructor grabbed the spinning wheel and hoisted herself on, riding up it and near the higher level. Disembarking, she landed on the higher floor and addressed them to follow her. They did the same, even though Zell almost missed his footing because he touched a slimy cockroach by accident. They continued along the new path, rounded a corner and proceeded on a gradually rising platform and then stopped.

The ground was starting to rumble, and a deep sound was echoing against the walls of the sewer.

"A song," Zell noted.

"The parade is starting," Quistis added.

_

* * *

Fithos... lusec...wecos...vinosec_

Squall and Irvine were fighting the temptation of being entranced by the dancing nymphs cavorting around the entrance of the gates. The nymphs were dressed in silver and orange skin-tight suits that showed every perfection in their body, and their dyed hair waved freely in the breeze. Their faces were painted in mock laughter, and they twirled rapidly around the oval now devoid of crowds of people. The float carrying the Sorceress was approaching the gates, and the police had shunned everybody to the sidewalk. A large man leading the parade of dancing nymphs and minstrels was singing in a deep voice the Latin words to Liberati Fatalli-- the Sorceress anthem of the ages.

As the gates creaked open drawing the supreme float lazily in, a female minstrel slowly sweetened the spectator's ears with her verse of the song: _Fithos...lusec...wecos...vinosec._ As the float came into full view, both minstrels sang together: _Fithos...lusec...wecos...vinosec._ The song's theme was meant to encourage the children of the world to wake up from their lifelong slumber and burn the evils of the world. A delightful little song to say the least.

The float itself was large and lumbering pulled by seemingly supernatural motives-- no motor, no slave force, no wheels. Two burning pillars hung on either side, and neon energy ran on a stream on all four sides giving it presence and fortitude. The Sorceress sat on a golden throne with an immense stonework framing as a backrest. She had donned a crown of exquistie conch shells that now daintily sat on her head. She was relaxed in her sitting position, and she viewed each of the screaming and cheering spectators with great disdain and abhorence.

Irvine was distracted by her beauty, but deep inside he felt repulsed in a way that he could not fully surmount there.

Squall, however, hardly focused on her at all. There was a tall blond-haired man standing to her right with a huge smile on his face. A trenchcoat-wearing man with a scar running down the right side of his nose. A gunblade in his hand.

The Squad Leader was beside him with confusion, but before he could think of some explanation, his partner elbowed him. "We must hurry at once!" Irvine shouted. "The gates have opened!" He started running, but Squall was rooted in place. _What the fuck is going on here?!?_ His thoughts were torn in frustration.

Irvine stopped in his tracks, fearful his movements were giving him away. Anger contorted briefly on his face. "What are you waiting for? Rinoa might die!"

That beautiful harlot, damn her! Squall refocused his mind immediately, and stormed past a surprised Irvine. They were careful, but the numerous belligerent crowds were completely submitted to Edea's power. None of them, not even the guards, saw them fleeing the scene.

The float passed on its slow journey and started making a lazy easterly trek for the screaming tourists to get their most picture-perfect shot. Fireworks shot out of strategically-placed canisters, and Seifer Almasy leaned in for a perfect shot from a couple of cute girls in the front row. The two SeeDs scooted around them, trying to remain low; yet, for a split second the two gunblader's eyes met, and Squall thought for sure his rival would bust them up. Yet, the defiant-looking trenchcoat man retained his stance and did not acknowledge them at all. Calmly, he ran a hand through his cropped hair and relished his moment of glory standing before the almighty Sorceress of Westonia.

Squall and Irvine controlled their beating hearts and swept past the gates and around the corners of the Presidential Palace. Swooping into the back, they climbed the ladder to the roof and noticed a loose skypanel and figured they knew why it was loose. They each took a deep breath and jumped straight through.

They noticed frantic claw marks and a spatter of blood on the walls. A frightened whimpering was sounding behind the corner, and Squall took the lead. Rounding it, he was shocked to see Rinoa lying face down in a pool of blood twitching slightly. "Rinoa!!" he yelled, surprising himself and the cowboy. Without thinking, he sped toward her and knelt beside her. He could hear her breathing and was relieved to see her look at him. Her pretty green eyes were still functioning properly, yet they were scared as hell. He saw a wound on her arm and stomach, but his ears heard something far worse.

Turning slightly, he saw two orange eyes staring him down in the shadows of the hallway. Snarling loudly, the mutated lizard charged him and spat a nasty, acidic goo over his arm causing him searing pain. Irvine pulled out his gun and unloaded two quick blasts in the creature's face. Huge chunks of meat and skin flew off the damned monster, and the lizard grounded in its flight and skidded against the wall. Its partner, however, was more cunning and pounced the cowboy from behind skidding them both into the wall.

Squall leapt back from Rinoa and immediately fell on his ass. His arm weighed a ton, and he realized it was solid gray. It looked like he had been hit with a flimsy petrification spell. If he didn't heal it quickly, it would corrode every sinew in his limb, and the only way to heal that was with the GF's power of Esuna. He hoped they still had pity for him, for the headless lizard was getting up. As he applied the medicine, he noticed the lizard was carrying a shiny red jewel on its abdomen that looked like a GF jewel. It was so pretty that he had to have it. He felt the muscles return to life in his arm, and as the creature began to snarl again despite lacking a head (the sound seemed to be coming from its jagged throat) he unloaded a fire spell on it. The fire spell hit a hidden green shield protecting the monster and bounced back toward Squall knocking him flat against the wall. A damned Reflect spell.

The creature attacking Irvine slashed a clawed limb across his back and bit his shoulder hard spattering blood across the wall. Irvine sat all his weight on the creature's stomach, inserted his gun between the lizard's death grip, and blew the creature's head clean off with one shot. The lizard let go, gurgling up copious amounts of blood, and the cowboy staggered to his feet. He fished into his pocket for more magnum bullets and then unleashed a fury of shots, six of them in the creature's exposed neck, seven in its chest, and two in each of its kneecaps. Blackened-bluish blood splattered the walls, floor, and ceiling, and the mutated lizard died a horrible and painful death. Winded, Irvine kneeled on the floor to catch his breath.

The Reflect-protected lizard slashed a clean swipe across Squall's chest but lost its arm on the second when Squall slashed it off with the Cutting Trigger. Steeling his nerves, Squall struck again and cut a deep and nasty stretch severing the lizard in two, killing it instantly. The green shield became visible and shockwaved across the room, creating a loud vibration. The red jewel escaped and fell to the floor. When Squall walked nearer to it, a little green figure hopped around inside of it. _Damn,_ Squall thought, _you never know what you're gonna find!_

A magical sound and a spray of light and steam filled the room, and Squall turned to see Rinoa successfully cure herself of her bleeding wounds, but she looked really nervous and jittery. She was breathing heavy with her back against the wall and seemingly very frightened at the copious amounts of blood everywhere. He saw the Cura jewel in her hand and saw that it was still relatively full of usage. He dragged the winded Irvine over to her and healed both of them, relishing the steam that filled the air.

A hand gripped his leather jacket, and Squall looked down into her face. Her voice was frail. "I was scared."

Her eyes were so frightened, and her lips were quivering, that he didn't know what to say. He stood back up, and Irvine stood as well walking away from them and caressing his sore spots.

She noticed he didn't leave immediately, so she grabbed his free hand. "Really scared."

"It's over now."

"I..." The memory of the last ten minutes for her was so harrowing she could not put it easily in words. "When I'm with you, and you all, things are better and smoother-paced. I... Alone I... was really scared."

"You're..." Now he didn't know what to say. "You're used to battles, right?"

"Not by myself. I just couldn't fight alone." She looked at the two scars on her arm and stomach, and she remembered the intense pain that had come at the moment of impact.

_Your old man was right,_ he thought _ you're not ready for this._ "We need to get going." He slowly shook her grip away and took two steps toward a curious Irvine.

She immediately rose and latched onto a stronger grip on both of his arms.

Her strong but soft grip caught him, and he sighed. "Just stay close to me." Not hearing a reply, he cupped her chin and looked at her. "Okay?"

She looked at him hard and nodded.

"Hey, you two," the cowboy drawled, "the hatch is this way."

They followed him around three corners and found a small loose floorboard near the late Vinzer Deling's quarters, and Squall unhinged the board from the floor, and the three of them jumped below to the carousel room. There were six thrones on the giant carousel that would each unleash a giant clown puppet that made some loud exuberant noises and motions that allegedly made all the kiddies feel good about themselves. The room, regardless, smelled like musty cheese.

The sniper rifle lay in the southwest corner-- a hefty Galbadian S-22KGE, the deadliest model with a fiber-optic bullet.

Squall picked it up and abhored the godawful feel of the death machine and clumsily offered it to Irvine. "It's in your hands now."

The cowboy astonished him by seeming to abhor the look of it himself, and he reluctantly received it. Lowering his head, he took off the fedora and slowly walked to the back of the room and crouched low between two of the thrones. Both Rinoa and Squall looked at each other, puzzled, but Squall let it pass. _The life of a sniper really must be petrifying at times._

They both walked to a throne and sat on it. Rinoa felt more content. He said to stick close by him, and that's exactly what she was going to do. She wanted anything to hug that big furball, Angelo, at this time, but the best she could do was look at her feet and pretend that she was hugging. The previous harrowing battle was over, and she figured good times were waiting ahead-- and not in that man's house, either.

Squall was lost again in his mind. _I wonder what's going on in that parade. _His blood ran cold for more than a split second. _Seifer... so he's alive. Of all the fucking things in the world. Damn them Raijin and Fujin. _"Rinoa."

She slowly looked at him. He was disturbing a peaceful reverie in her mind, but the look on his face was one of troubled realization, and she was piqued with interest.

"Seifer's alive," he said bluntly.

Her jaw dropped. "Please don't be an ass."

"He's in front of the Sorceress on her float."

She knew he wasn't lying. He never lied. She didn't know him that long, but she knew deep inside that he never lied. "What does this mean?"

"I have no idea." _If I were to face the Sorceress directly, would I have to go through him?_ He had fought him numerous times before the scar. Every time had come up a draw between them, even the day of the scar. Both of them drew massive blood on that day. If Seifer had allied himself with the Sorceress as an exchange for the life of Vinzer Deling, then Squall knew his chances of survival against Almasy were almost nil. He did not relish the fact of drawing swords once again against his old rival. "I... "

She looked at him, intrigued.

"I may have to kill him."

Her reaction surprised him. For possibly being his girlfriend, she didn't seem too terribly depressed at that realization. Perhaps being cheated out of death was more than enough time to realize the man you thought you loved actually sold his soul to the devil to screw you over. "Are you both prepared for this?"

Confused, he didn't answer instantly.

"Being in that world, you can't choose your enemies, huh? Your emotional training must've been sufficient to render any compromise impossible?"

She touched the core of the problem. He refused to answer.

"Well, I rather... not see it happen."

They both looked at each other long and hard. The moment was too tense for him, and he blinked first. Sighing he rose and looked over to the cowboy. "It's all up to Irvine now." However, he became suspicious immediately.

There was an awful lot of twitching jarring his body.

Squall walked slowly over to him and knelt beside him. Cursing greatly, he realized the sharpshooter was really panicing. "Irvine!"

The cowboy's eyes were shattered. "I can't do it."

* * *

Soot, ash, and various muck fell on them soiling their clothes and making their darkened trek miserable. With each passing wheel ascending them higher and higher, the sounds of the massive parade and the stomping of the spectators' feet grew irritatingly loud. Several lanterns fell from their perches and dissolved in the sewage brine, as if eaten by acid. Bugs crawled everywhere from every nook and cranny, and several slimed their legs and shoes and even landed in Selphie's hair at a couple times.

Gradually, the light increased dramatically, and the noise practically deafened them. They ascended a particularly screechy wheel that broke from its foundation and sailed them hard against the higher ledge. Zell broke his front tooth, and part of Quistis's dress sunk in the brine, dissolving instantly. A splash of goo coated Selphie's bare leg lightly and stung her incessantly. Applying a Cura gem to it only increased the burn with all the steam, and she barely stopped the flow of tears.

The higher ledge saved them, though, from falling headlong into the brink, and they could tell they were under the Gateway. The parade was advancing close. As the light grew brighter, Quistis saw her watch said two minutes to one, and she physically dragged the both of them down the long stretch of slimy corridor. Their feet squashed exoskeletons of bugs and god-knew-what-else. Their noses stung with the smell of raw sewage, and their lungs ached from intense suffocation.

Finally, they reached the boiler room of the sewer and a long ladder leading straight up to the clocktower. Wasting no time, they ascended ignoring the all-too-familiar cold wet slimy goo-covered rungs. At the speed of light, figuratively, they ascended four flights of stories and heard the grating sounds of the Sorceress's float.

Quistis found the black control box, and Zell told her the float was passing under. He raised his hand and watched the tail end of the float disappear from view. Dropping it sharply, Quistis threw the switch.

* * *

The southern gates fell first and forcefully bore a massive hole in the front part of the float knocking Seifer onto his back. The northern gates fell impaling three guards who weren't paying attention to their surroundings. The crowd immediately stopped cheering. Edea rose sharply to her feet, and a look of apprehension turned to quick disgust, as she realized what the maggots were planning to do.

At the same time, one o clock opened the Presidential Palace roof and out popped the carousel clock with six annoying clown puppets gesticulating like flailing monkeys. Squall saw the gates fall and saw the crowd stop their celebration. He also saw the police and military units immediately begin their search for the cause of the disruption. He heard Rinoa behind him switching from one foot to the other in confused bewilderment.

He saw the Galbadian sharpshooter twitching like mad.

"Irvine Kinneas!!!"

Irvine looked at him for the first time since the twitching, and Squall banged his fist against the wall. The sharpshooter was losing it. "I'm sorry," he softly said, "I.. can't do it. I always choke like this." He looked at Rinoa's shocked expression and then back at Squall's antagonized one. "I joke. I goof. But under pressure, I'm not near as strong as I ought to be."

"Forget it. Just shoot."

He looked to the heavens. "My bullet. My duty... I'll go down in history. I'd change the history of the world!" He looked toward the dropped gates, at the millions of people clamoring everywhere, and the thousands of police frantically keeping them at bay. They were probably already spotted atop the Palace roof-- it was only a matter of time. "It's too much. I can't do it."

"Enough, goddammit!!! Just take the fucking shot!"

"Fuck you, you scar-faced son of a bitch! I can't!!"

Squall clenched a fist and then released it, along with a deep breath. "Irvine. Everyone's waiting on you. I don't care if you miss the shot." He calmly grabbed his comrade's shoulder and soothed it. "Whatever happens, leave the rest to me. I take full responsibility for _everything_."

"We _all_ share the responsibility, Squall."

"Think of this as a signal. A signal for us to make our move."

The stubborn sharpshooter relented. "A signal?"

"Yes."

"Just a signal." He cleared his throat, took one final look at the oval, and crouched forward. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, brought the S-22 to his shoulder, exhaled, and fired. The bullet cut straight through the air and splattered into a million pieces onto Edea's force shield. Her bright green eyes centered immediately on the culprit responsible.

The crack fire erupted across the city; the spectators staggered instinctively and became enveloped in a mad frenzy. Police unleashed billy clubs, swords, dangerous bayonets, and assault rifles and mercilessly beat the pedestrians to bits. Crowds of men, women, and children assaulted each other and fled the Gateway Square. All the while, Edea smiled and sat back on her throne. Just as planned, her reign of terror had begun.

The sharpshooter widened his eyes and caved against the throne. "I'm sorry."

Squall for a second was lost gazing upon the sea of corruption and bloodshed. Yet, Rinoa and Irvine were surprised to find him exceptionally calm. "Leave the rest to me," he said and unsheathed the Cutting Trigger.

"What the hell are you doing?!?" Rinoa yelled.

Squall cocked multiple Blitz shells into his gunblade, stood, and surveyed the crowd with the gunblade resting firmly on his shoulder. "Life is about to get way more interesting now." His voice was faraway yet stern and in control. He turned down to Irvine. "Get Rinoa out of here, find the others, and lay low. Plan B must be taken. Immediately."

"No!" Rinoa demanded.

He indicated her. "Take care of Rinoa, please."

"Wait a minute, Squall," Irvine declared. He dropped the S-22 and unbuttoned his coat. Hidden inside was a transformable weapon. Cocking it twice, he created a high-powered assault rifle with a long-range scope. "Stay clear as much as you can, I'll provide you cover."

Squall was impressed. "Take care, you two." Giving one final look at Rinoa, he somersaulted off the roof onto the platform podium with the dead President beside it. Paying him no respects, he looked briefly down at the scene and found a squad of guards battling some unarmed citizens. Positioning the gunblade point out, he jumped down to the ground and crushed five of the guards with an outstanding slash of his sword. The citizens cried out in terror and fled the scene.

Guards everywhere took notice of the SeeD and rushed to apprehend him, but an explosive shell ripped open three of the closest guards to him. Squall could see the red dots appear on the chests of the Galbadian military personnel from Irvine's rifle. He fidgeted several times when bodies blew to pieces before him. He ran like hell across the damaged and destroyed oval commons, running over bodies of fallen citizens and soldiers, and slashing a few people out of the way. The violence was interminable, and he was in no way relishing the sudden horrible turn of events. The goddamn General knew of the Sorceress's power, and Squall knew this would be the end result.

Yet, he fell through anyway, so who really was to blame?

Irvine provided excellent cover, and Squall made it to the gated clocktower just in time to be surrounded by a squadron of eight bayonette guards. Squall parried three blows, got snagged by one, and unloaded a Blitz shell warping the blade and blowing apart four of the eight guards with severe electrical energy. The other four cowered in fear, and Squall mercilessly pushed them aside and ascended the float. Screams from frantic citizens and harsh shouts from Galbadian police officers echoed in his ears, but he continued the climb.

He reached the top and saw her green eyes.

She saw his steel blue eyes and instantly smiled with malicious joy. The sight of her was repulsive and beautiful, and he did not know why. He was ready to pierce her through her heart, for she was unwilling to kill him right then and there. Yet, so was he. _Why? Why, why, why?_ So many things stopped him from his thoughts. He had the Cutting Trigger in his hand. He could hear the Galbadian police and military coming to stop him, and probably kill him. He could see her twisted smile.

And he couldn't do a goddamn motherfucking thing.

A sound of a sword crashing on cement jarred him.

The blond-haired gunblader smiled crookedly at him from behind Edea's throne. Sauntering out with Hyperion swinging lazily in his hands, he eyed the one man he truly despised in his life with a hideous contempt and joy. He regarded the Sorceress's expression on both of them with an utmost relishing. He looked Squall up and down several times, and Seifer Almasy smiled wickedly.

"So, this is how things are unfolded."

His wicked grin turned to a wretched frown, and he jarred his hand so fast Squall could not react in time. Yet, the intense fire spell that erupted from Seifer's palm incinerated the squad of eight soldiers behind Squall instead. The second squad stopped dead in their tracks and looked ready to piss their pants.

"This Lionheart is mine, you fucks!"

Squall turned sharply to the petrified soldiers and then slowly back to Seifer. Both of them stared at each other with solemn glances. Squall's ears, though, picked up the sound of running feet, and he turned to find none other than Rinoa and Irvine.

"Dammit!" he yelled to the sharpshooter, "I told you two to leave!"

"Must redeem myself, Mr. Leader."

"You're not doing this alone!" the princess added.

Squall looked at the both of them and clenched his fist tight. Seifer's cold laugh unclenched them, and he turned back to face him. "Oh, Squall," his rival snickered, "you are _still_ the leader after all this time. Pity fucking sake."

Squall slammed the Cutting Trigger on the float, surprising all of them even Edea. "The fuck are you! The sorceress's lap dog?"

Seifer's laughing reply was cold and bitter. Irvine curled his lip in disgust, and Rinoa shuddered. This wasn't the man she had known in her memories. The blond gunblader reclined back with one hand on his hip. "I prefer to be called her 'Knight', Mr. Squall. This has always been my dream."

"Your what? Your romantic dream you were hashing out earlier?"

"Tch. Hashing out. How pathetic, you rube. You've grown a mighty snarky mouth on you lately. Becoming a fucking SeeD has tarnished your perspective on life." Noticing Rinoa and Irvine, he smirked. "Ha, a cowboy and the princess herself. Gotta admit, Squall, you do know how to party, eh?"

Before Squall could answer, Seifer's blade swung in a nasty arc straight for his neck. He was able to bring up the Cutting Trigger, but the Hyperion slammed so heavily that both blades ended pinning him down with an intense weight that his knees buckled under him. Rinoa and Irvine began to ascend the float, but Squall snarled at them and they abruptly stopped, confused as all hell.

"Squall, give it up. I am much more powerful than you."

"Fuck yeah you are." Spitting in his rival's face, he unsheathed his weapon from the grip lock and headbutted Seifer in the chin. Almasy stumbled backwards but retaliated with an intense firebolt that burned Squall's skin apart. The Squad Leader shook off the flames, having built up resistance thanks to good old Ifrit, and he slashed hard with a straight cut. Both blades connected in the middle, then up, then down. Squall kicked the leg out from under Seifer, but Seifer punched him in the face.

Squall landed on his back and rolled to his right, for Hyperion slammed with great force where his face had previously been seconds before. Seifer whirled around and slammed Hyperion a second time slicing Squall's left shoulder, stopping his movement. Blood spurted out in a sick spooge across the floor of the float, and Seifer jammed a kick straight into Squall's groin. The Cutting Trigger fell out of his hands, and Squall reached down to caress his sore spot.

Rinoa cursed loudly, scrambled up the float, and fired a bolt at the back of Seifer's head. The Sorceress's whispers clouding his thinking gave him quick reflexes to turn around and slash the dart harmlessly away. Grabbing her and pulling her close, he smiled sweetly, "Ah, you're so cute when you're angry, you know that?"

She gritted her teeth and snapped, "What are you doing here?"

"If you wish to know, you'll tell your new boyfriend here to stop playing too many nasty tricks." He indicated Squall with a kick to his knee, causing the Squad Leader to cry out more in pain.

Rinoa grew more angry. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, good, then _we'll_ make time later then." He flung her across the float, kicked the ascending Irvine in the stomach, and then slammed Hyperion down towards Squall. Yet, Squall had relieved himself enough to avoid another horrible slice. He barreled into Seifer, lifted him off the ground, and plunged down onto his back. Straddling him, Squall beat Seifer's face with his fist smashing his nose, his chin, and blackening one eye. "How do you like that, you piece of shit!"

"How do you like this?" Seifer retorted, blood flowing from his wounds and into his mouth. His free hand conjured a wave of lightning that flowed through Squall's veins and shot him into the air. He landed hard on a spike in the float, ripping the skin on his back in a great gash. He struggled to a kneeling position, but the dizziness of his head brought him to the verge of vomiting, and he couldn't stand up and retrieve his gunblade.

However, Seifer took care of that. He grabbed it and stood in front of Squall. Looking down at him, he cupped his chin and stared into the steel blue eyes. Squall viewed the bloody visage of his rival and was horrified to find that Seifer seemed to not be feeling as much pain. Seifer grinned. "You cannot beat me this time."

Squall spat blood into Seifer's eye. The blond gunblader wrenched his hand away, twirled the Cutting Trigger to the hilt facing Squall, and then jammed it straight into Squall's chin. His head rocketed to the right, and a bright light blazed across his vision for a quick second. Then intense, fiery pain eclipsed, and he could not stop the shout from his mouth. Then Seifer grabbed the hurt chin again and squeezed ever so lightly. "Watch what I can do."

Squall watched him physically melt the Cutting Trigger into thin air with one squeeze of his hand. He then produced Hyperion and brought it to Squall's neck. "Now, it's your turn."

"No, it's not."

Seifer turned toward Edea, and noticed that she was intensely pleased. He let go of Squall and signalled for the cavalry to arrest the SeeDs at once. Yet, Irvine wasn't having any of that bullshit. He reached inside his pocket and fished out Siren and summoned the GF. Both Seifer and Edea realized what he was doing, while the military didn't. Seifer went to stop him, but Irvine and Rinoa each fired a shell and a dart at him. Seifer blocked the magnum shot, but Rinoa's Cardinal dart sliced open his back, and he toppled over the float dropping his gunblade in front of Squall's aching form.

Edea's eyes grew bright and she prepared to summon some dark magic. Meanwhile, the military personnel were astonished to find a voluptuous naked woman with huge golden wings ascend from the heavens. Everyone, citizens and soldiers alike, watched as the beautiful busty and singing wench lightly touch the earth and strike her harp with lyrical precision. Drawing as many guards as she could to her trap, she suddenly whirled in a circle and revealed her true self-- a dirty, crusty, blue-skinned hag. A wave of energy rushed from her and incinerated at least fifty of the closest opposition-- citizen and soldier alike. A great buffer zone shielded the SeeDs from harm, but Edea wasn't having any of that.

The Sorceress erupted a great gravity spell that warped a significant proportion of health off the Galbadian sharpshooter and the resistance fighter. Quickly, Edea followed up with a thunder spell that sparked across Irvine's body and shot him straight off the deck. Rinoa clamored to her feet and faced the Sorceress directly, who regarded her with amusement. Rinoa closed her eyes briefly and remembered the incantation. _Azule veramboso!_ she declared, and a great blizarra spell formed against the Sorceress, yet Edea shouted her own incantation and a greater blizarra spell met Rinoa's. A large shard of ice, half the color of both the woman's, splattered against each other and remained suspended in a great blob. With precious few seconds left, Rinoa siezed the initiative and fired a dart straight into the heart of the ice blob and smashed the horrid creation straight onto Edea's chest, shattering her with two dozen shards of ice.

The burden of the magical spell drained a significant proportion of her endurance, and Rinoa stumbled to her knees. Edea staggered backwards and yelped in pain. Squall forced himself up, spitting blood everywhere, and drunkenly grabbed Seifer's fallen Hyperion. The blade was incredibly light and awkward in his hands, but a spare shotgun shell was ready in the chamber. An explosive ammunition round. He steadied his nerves, licked his bloody lips, and fired the shell straight into the stomach of the Sorceress. The shell ripped open a number of tissues and muscles in her body and revealed unusual-looking tentacles and demonic-looking things. Edea's body contorted in several different forms and then reassembled back to its original state. He slumped to one good footing and could not tell directly if his attack had caused enough damage. He did, however, see her look exceptionally weakened.

Yet, she curled her lip in disgust, cried out, "Maggots!!!" and formed an incredibly sharp blade of ice in her hand and shot straight into his chest. Rinoa followed the movement and screamed as the blade of ice impaled Squall in his stomach, right breast, and left shoulder. She saw his eyes widen. She saw his muscles twitch involuntarily. She saw his voice ache and spasm. She saw him fall uncontrollably backwards. She ran to him, tears streaming down her face. She watched his body hit the ground and jar from the impact. She saw him not move a single time afterwards.

She reached out to grasp his hand. She continued to reach out, even as the military picked her up and hauled her away.


	11. Fragments of Memories

**Author's Note: **Hey, guys sorry for the wait. Had eye surgery done in the past week, fixing up a problem with my long-distance vision. But I'm back now and ready to start what I call "Part Two" of the Ballad. So things are going grim for Squall Leonhart, but I'm afraid we must forestall his next set of events to now instead look at the continuing adventures (or misadventures) of Mr. Laguna Loire. BTW, the game I felt cheapened out considerably on a vast variety of Laguna's moments. This chapter contains a large amount of AU, so don't be too surprised if you see some unfamiliar stuff.

Plus, I'd like to extend a big shoutout to my reviewers: _Morning Star, Lyle Sammie, the Chuckin Snowman, Pacificuser, the Silver Shadow, _and _Jamesie Boy._ I appreciate greatly your comments. As well, I greatly appreciate the wide volume of readers who have checked this story out. Thank you all very much. (And continue reading, of course.)

120,000 words? Too damn short if you ask me! :) On with the show...

~~~ACJ

_Battered and beaten_

_Fallen from grace, torn in place_

_Fragments of mem'ries_

The impact of his body smashing into the water felt as strong as hitting a slab of concrete, and Laguna Loire passed out instantly, his body tumbling like a rag doll in the rapidly rushing current. For hours, it seemed, he dragged lazily on; but, always, those terrible and incessant faeries kept singing their song and beating their wings. He was aware and conscious and speaking as if disattached from his saggy, dishevled flesh. He felt ensconced in a bright, white aura of blankness. Coldness enveloped him, and he had no means of stifling the chills; he was blind and flailed helplessly to warm himself, even though he couldn't see where the rest of his body was. He couldn't even feel anything below his head, nor the skull attaching it together.

But always the fucking faeries.

He could see them now: five of them. Five glowing circles of light with light blue wings flying around him. Doing nothing, really. Just flying around and singing. And invigorating him. Being here, he saw their true powers emanating from their fiery circles, little repercusions of light bouncing and pulsating. He wanted to fight them back, but he was entranced by their sweet music, their sweet contentious vibe.

He reached out and touched the brightest one, the one closest to him, and wrapped his hand around its small body. Intense heat. He tried to pull it away, but the faery had latched onto him and seeped inside his skin, and when he looked down he was horrified to see every bone and tissue and sinew in his arm, in his chest, in his legs. He was coming apart at the seams!

The faery seemed to fly through his body and invigorated all of his organs, all of his life. New skin seemed to materialize magically over his inner organs. He felt extremely hot, as if he was roasting alive. He screamed, and the gaggle that fell from his mouth was horrid and unhuman and echoing. His ears went deaf to his own sound, and he fell to the white floor and lay there convulsing for some time. He let the faery do its work, and he suddenly opened his eyes.

He was on a beach somewhere in Centra.

The faeries were gone.

He was alive but covered in dried blood with hundreds of scratches, cuts, and scars and salt-infected wounds. Everything on him ached with a high intensity that he shied himself away from even uttering a simple sound. His eyes were the only thing that seemed easy enough to move, and he darted them everywhere and saw lots of seagulls flying, saw tall purplish mountain peaks, and saw what looked like a small naval port. He couldn't quite tell, though, and he couldn't lean any more forward to see.

He heard running footsteps and shouts, though, mingled with the loud caw-caws of the gulls and the forceful rushing of the waves against the shore. He smelled his own bloodied, wasted body mingled with the sour-sweet smell of the ocean. He could feel, hear, and see with the most diligent appreciation that he had ever had in his entire life.

He felt he had been granted a second chance at life.

Someone indeed ran to him: a basic-ranking sailor for the Centra Coast Guard. He shouted distinctly for others to help him, and in time they hauled the man with the machine gun gently in their arms and carried him swiftly to the medical clinic. The feeling of sudden movement, however calm it was, jolted every nerve and bloodflow in his body; he gave a little gargling outcry, and the medical sailor immediately administered a numbing needle as well as an anasthetic. He slowly went unconscious and woke up later lying on a bed.

A hundred different needles were plucked inside him, and he looked like a damn porcupine. Thinking about that, he laughed and the embedded needles in his chest hurt his breathing a bit, and he started choking. The closest nurse laid a warm towel on his forehead and gave him some special liquid. It was red in color and shitty in taste. The coughing fit died down, and he went back to rest again. He made a mental note to keep personal jokes aside for the while.

For days, the clinic doctors worked on his body, and the head nurse was always in to help him. The doctors and surgeons worked his whole to health, and the nurse-- a pretty brunette with gentle eyes-- administered all the proper medicines and needles. Laguna wasn't a fan with needles, but all he had to do was look in this girl's eyes, and he didn't even notice the point picking into his vein. The doctors rebooted his entire system, fixing his collapsed collarbone, his splintered shins, his ruptured spine and ribs, and his broken jaw. They fixed the joints in several of his fingers, and they even made sure his private parts were in working order. The battle with the Estharians and the crash landing in the Ephermal Lagoon should have killed him, the doctors kept on saying.

Somehow, Laguna attributed that to something more powerful than all of them combined. But what exactly? He had a dream of faeries, and he was most certain of their existence, but was that really the case? Could he have been just a freak survival case?

In the week after the full month of surgical repairs, he was resting in his bed. The head nurse, whom he still did not know her name (he was very forgetful sometimes, because the name had already been spoken to him), had let him listen to some classical music to reacquaint himself with the outside world. He laid there, his head resting on a cushy pillow, and nodded his head to the swipes of the violin, and the angelic flutters of the harp.

_If Kiros and Ward were here, they'd think I'd been emasculated_. He smiled and laughed at that thought. He was feeling much better now that his chest was almost one hundred percent normal again. _Violins were female's choices of music, Kiros always said. Ward preferred the drums and the electric guitar._ He smiled bigger at the thought of the big man riffing a good one on the instrument.

He almost tumbled out of the bed.

_Ward! Kiros! Are they alright?!!_

The head nurse had been watching him from afar and immediately ran towards him. "What's wrong?" Her voice was as sweet as candy, and somehow it always calmed him down. Even in important circumstances like these.

"Kiros and Ward!"

"Who are they?"

"Two of my patrol buddies. We..." he suddenly remembered the botched job they were supposed to have completed. Trabia, not Centra. And now, more than a month later, he was sure to get terminated for good by the colonel.

The nurse folded her arms across her chest. "Now, you look sad."

"Very. We were supposed to investigate Trabia for our government, but we ended up going south instead of north, you know. And then, uh, we came across this big huge structure thing, and we didn't know what it was, and then we got attacked by those greenies. And then Ward got his throat snapped, and Kiros was badly injured. And then...." He grimaced. "And then, here I am."

He looked at her pleadingly. "Have you all seen them?"

"No, Mr. Loire, you're the only one that washed up here."

The head nurse was surprised by Laguna's immediate crestfallen face, and she felt terrible by being so nonchalant. Against protocol, she sat down next to him shoulder-to-shoulder. "I am terribly sorry, Mr. Loire. I didn't realize they were your comrades. A brotherhood if you might say."

"In the Galbadian army, they were the only realistic men fighting in it. Somehow, they felt the same about me, and we never had a bad moment between us." He scoffed. "It's the least I can say about the rest of them."

She chuckled. "Yeah, it is quite unlikely that anybody respects the Galbadian government these days."

"Even... here?"

"No, actually. Well.... now think about it. One soldier, badly wounded, delerious. I think the Centra Costa Guard has every right to aid that person, don't you?"

Laguna looked at her. "Out of necessity?"

"No, no. The head commander here saw your body wash up shore, and he called everybody to pitch in and help you. You see, word travels fast in the mountain lagoons here, and the Coast Guard heard of you and your friend's travails with the Estharian unit."

"What?"

"We don't appreciate Galbadia, but we despise Esthar more. The government there has gone belly-up to the Sorceress, and they're doing her bidding on everything. Plus, the Commander was extremely pleased at the absolute sheer brilliance of your fighting capabilities, Mr. Loire."

"Wow. You... have many messengers?"

"Tons. Birds, actually, the crows and falcons that live in the nooks and crannies of the gulches swarm back to us with any news of the eastern half's troubles. Our duty is to take the messages they give us and use it to protect the villages on the western side of this continent. We don't want the Estharians to allow Sorceress Adel to control that vital area."

"What's so vital about it?"

"Adel is looking for a successor. Her power is becoming too great, she's aging, and she wants an heir to the throne. Specifically, another girl, but the witch likes boys because they can be used as Knights or elite guards and the like. The villages in Western Centra are home to lots of children, and they are a prime target for Estharian airstrikes."

"Damn."

She hit him on the shoulder.

"What?"

"Cursing is bad for your health, Mr. Loire."

He smiled sheepishly. "I don't usually do that."

"Uh-huh. You're a soldier. That's your creed."

"Creed. Just another thing I'm tired about the Army for."

"Yeah, I've heard you talking in your sleep."

Laguna faked mock surprise. "Hey, those are private conversations."

"Some of them I like, though, you talk a lot about wanting to help people... instead... of.. uh... killing them."

He looked at the floor. "I have never killed anybody that wasn't an Estharian. And, even then, only the grunts. Yet, a part of me always died whenever I did that. Like I am now tainted for life. Or something."

She didn't say anything for a while. "Are you looking to quit?"

"I wish it were that easy. Unfortunately, the only way out is to go AWOL and hope to survive the hit squads that come after you, or go tell the colonel that you want to resign."

"Well why not do that?"

"Because that's capital punishment."

"Oh. Damn."

He socked her on the shoulder. "Hey, nurse, cursing's bad for your health!"

She socked him twice on both shoulders. "Since I'm a girl, I get to say whatever I want. Plus, it's inpolite to hit a girl on the shoulder. That's worth two hits right there on you! Plus, you've called me 'nurse' all this time while you've been here. That's worth a couple more hits. I do have a name, you know."

He blushed. "I'm sorry. I think being in the hospital room for so long has weakened my memory."

"Oh, Mr. Laguna Loire, your memory's weak as it is." She gave a teasing smile and stood up to administer him his final set of shots. He watched her start the process and secretly loved that particular perfume she always wore. And the sway of her hips. He suddenly remembered Julia, that piano singer, and he grew a little perplexed. _Come on man! You can't have both. Besides... this girl's so pretty. She has to have a boyfriend. Or... a girlfriend?_ That thought kinda intrigued him, and he smiled.

"Watcha smilin for?" She was holding the shot in one hand, and the other hand was on her hip. The stance was provactive, and he couldn't answer at first.

He then politely shook his head and said, "Nothing. Nothing really."

"Have you forgotten my name?" she asked sweetly, turning her head to one side.

He blushed again and looked down. "Yes, ma'am."

She laughed and walked over to him. "Raine's my name. Raine Hart."

"Raine Hart," he said as she lifted his arm. "I'll never forget that pretty name."

"I know you won't." She stuck the needle in a little hard, causing him to actually feel it this time. He winced, and she giggled and left him on the bed with perplexed but intrigued thoughts running through his head.

* * *

They had left Deling City in the middle of summer around July or so for the northern sea docks. Somehow or another, Laguna had managed to steer them down to the south-- probably along the invisible eddies, who knows? They landed on Centra after a full week at sea and endured a full day's worth of hell in that strange skyscraper object before falling off the cliff. According to the medical doctors, Laguna learned that through the hawk-eyes of the messengers and the scouts he had tumbled through the water for two solid days before washing up along the northernmost jagged island. For two months, he stayed in the hospital room; now, out and feeling like new once again, he saw his breath rise out from him. The end of September was coming upon him, and the autumn season was full-fledged on.

He realized with a sinking stomach that it was fruitless to contact the colonel now-- capital punishment was a shoo-in. Galbadia never sent a search party out, why bother? The turn-over rate was immense what with the countless loss of life of the G-forces trying to overtake the Dunbar Ridge separating Trabia from Esthar. That stretch of land was a quagmire on both sides.

The head Commander was out on the docks with him, a slick golden pipe between his lips. He had a haughty Trabian accent and many medals on his chest. Being the head honcho of an independent defense unit was a real honor for his subserviants; a lot of the hassle government-run military compounds had was the sheer dominance of horrible lingo, jargon, and conditional requirements. Here, the Centra Coast Guard functioned like a militia and a socialistic heart for the Centran citizens to rise up together and fight for a common goal. Somehow, the concept flourished greatly with the five hundred thousand citizens, and the Coast Guard performed their tasks well.

"Son," the commander asked him suddenly, puffing out a thin wispy purplish smoke, "from what I've been told, you do some might fine sparring, you know that?"

"Uh... heh... it was a spur of the moment decision."

He dragged another drawl of the pipe. "Some of the best decisions ever made under such conditions."

"I.. really appreciate you all doing this for me. For a Galbadian, that is."

"Son, aint no problem helping someone who's down." He stretched his back and exhaled another wispy swirl. "Somebody who can take down those pansy greenies is someone who's on our side. All's well in my book, yessir."

Laguna's eyes widened. "Yes, sir."

"The head nurse seems to have taken a liking to you. She asked to take care of you some more on your resting trip over in Winhill."

"Oh... I wasn't informed about that, sir."

"Yes, I just thought of it off the top of my head."

Laguna just nodded his head.

"She actually did want to resign anyway. Plus, I was hoping you'd give us a hand with something, seeing as how you're strappin some heat on ya."

"Ah... I wasn't looking forward to executing people, sir."

"Exe-- ha! That's a good one! Yeah, I'd personally like to execute some of those townies over there. But, no, that wouldn't be too proper if you think about it. No, no, no. We have a bit of a monster problem in Winhill. Brought on by Adel, that vicious cunt. She keeps sending them in to attack the elders and kidnap the children."

"Why?"

"Don't you know?" He blew out another waft with an irritable shake of his head.

"Well, Raine-- the head nurse, I mean-- "

"Ah, you know her name."

"She told me the Sorceress needs a successor or something. She said little girls might be a prime target."

"They are. Get them while their young, and then there's not a thing you can do about. All Adel or any of those fucking witches has to do is to entice the girls to get their attention and then ZAP! they control their minds and mystify their bodies. Literally, mist erupts from their bodies, and their bloodstream turns a funky green color instead of the normal red, you know. Damn pretties are fucking turned into monsters. My little one--" the commander hung his head low "she was captured by a Caterchippillar when she was outside playin. Unfortunately--or fortunately?--the damn bug servant tore her body in two before it could deliver her to Adel. Now, she's somewhere in the afterlife with Eden, hopefully.

"The Estharians did nothing for consolation, and they basically told Adel where I was and where she was. That's the main reason I'm here in this Guard. And to stop the Galbadians, and I don't mean you (you're something different), from harassing the poor Centran villagers."

"I see, sir. I am sorry about your daughter."

The commander refilled the pipe with some sweet-smelling tobacco, chewing a big dip first before smoking. "No need ta worry about that, son. I know I'll see those pretty blue eyes again. I jest know it."

"So, there's monsters in Winhill?"

"Yes, it's the second swarm since the first devastating one four years ago. There's a beautiful four-year old there, Ellone. The head nurse, Raine, here owns a pub in the residential area and cares for Ellone in the house next door. Tha poor girl. She lost her parents to the first swarm, brought on by the Estharians themselves."

"Geez," Laguna winced rubbing the back of his neck.

"Son, can you help us fight off this swarm. I don't know how long it'll take, but I hate ta see anotha cute little one get torn in two again."

Before Laguna could think about the consequences, he replied, "Absolutely, sir."

The commander blew out a quick waft in excitement. "Thank ye, sir, thank ye. Winhill is only a short distance away from the beach up on the western continent. It is slightly out of Galbadian territory, but some of the soldiers may still be patrolling it, so you might recognize some people." He leaned Laguna closer to him. "Keep in mind, though, the townies will not trust you."

"Why not, sir?"

"You are an outsider."

* * *

The Coast Guard ship crested a fine wave and rounded a reddish dune-covered island. Before them laid the fine peninsula of Galbadia's outer periphery. The Galbadians technically owned this portion of land, but only rarely did they send scouts down to patrol it. A dark feeling of worry consumed Laguna's mind slightly, but he need only look at Raine's calm face and be calmed himself. He saw her return his glance, and he asked, "You sure I won't be fine by myself?"

She laughed. "Silly. Haven't I told you five times already, I own a pub there. Plus, you look like the kind of person that needs some direction."

Laguna shrugged. "Only sometimes."

"Only sometimes, huh?"

He gave a sheepish smile and she laughed at that. The Galbadian soldier glanced past her at the darkening sky. "I hate rainstorms."

"Why?" she asked, turning to get a better look at the awesome grayness enveloping the western horizon. "I don't like getting wet, but I absolutely love the way they sound. All that crack of the lightning, and that thunder!"

"Ohhh... I've never been a fan of it."

She scooted closer to him. "Well, time now to be a fan of it. It rains here in Winhill about eight months out of the year."

"Great."

A spectacular lightning bolt rimmed the underbelly of the largest cloud as the ship docked at a small pier along a sandy beach. Both the Centran captain and Laguna exchanged a somewhat clumsy yet respectable salute, and Raine began leading him toward the village. It was only a mile away, a ten-minute hike. The wind had begun to pick up-- while Winhill was known for being a windy city, rainstorms usually hiked up the effects to a greater degree.

Laguna had been given an excellent model of machine gun to replace his damaged one. A .44 HadithanSLG-treb, a sophisticated laser-sight scope with impeccable accuracy. The SLG-treb was particularly alluring-- that was a grenade launcher attachment. He had it slung over his shoulder in the traditional macho Galbadian method, with a couple canisters of "pineapples" on his belt and a solid-gray canteen hooked on his right hip buckle. He had finally and thankfully ditched the cumbersome military uniform, yet he had kept (and washed) the white muscle shirt. Brown slacks and combat boots had been issued to him, plus a stylish denim jacket which he now had unbuttoned.

The Sun was now hidden, and a veneer of darkness now descended on the Plains of Galbadia. A flash of lightning illuminated the head nurse's face, and Laguna saw her expressions clearly for an instant. They seemed curious and provocative-- or maybe that was his own discernment. "What's up?"

His question caught her off-guard, and she hesitated at first. "I've heard you talk before, but... uh... how is it like... being in the military?"

He turned up his nose. "It sucks."

She indicated his body up and down. "You seem happy with your wares."

"Well, some things make it easier to perform on missions and the like. But... after a while, it just gets so... so..." he waved his hand in the air, "eh, I don't know. I just do.. what they tell to me to do, I guess."

"Sounds wonderful."

He detected a great amount of animosity in that. "Well, why are you with a militia acting as a handy medic for them?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you and I are doing things supposedly because we neither benefit nor disadvantage from them. We do it because it helps out others."

"Whenever I think of Galbadia, I don't think of humanitarian aid."

He sighed. "For the most part I agree."

"But you weren't part of the bad stuff?"

"I'm sure we're all part of _bad stuff_ every once in a while, but... that wasn't high on my list to perform."

"I know. I've heard you in my sleep."

"Damn, how much have you heard?"

"A lot. And stop cursing, you know better."

"Oh, but you can?"

She socked him on the shoulder. "Of course."

They advanced up a steadily rising hill and then overlooked the small village at the top. Quaint and blissful, the tallest building was the three-story temple in the center ringed with pointsettas and blossoms-- the gifts to High God Eden. The temple was in the center surrounded on its western side by a large garden of flowers and crops and on its eastern side by a deep river and a large cemetery. To the north, the villagers lived as well as a large forested den that was quite pecuilar-looking. To the south lay the small commercial section, more of a trade bazaar actually. The village looked likely to only hold about a couple thousand people.

Laguna shifted the weight of the SLG-treb and took note of the familiar scorched-earth terrain and the dried-out carcasses of monster hides. He had come across Caterchippilars before in Timber, disgusting bloated green and yellow bastards they were. Their insides were purplish jelly, acidic and frothing and unbearably painful on human skin. They couldn't travel fast, but they made great aim with their bellowing spittles. He wondered if that was all that was terrorizing these people-- at least he hoped it was only so.

She briefly clasped his hand and then let go immediately. The gesture snapped him out of his reverie, and he saw her motion forward. A spectacular thunderclap erupted, and the heaving behemoth of a raincloud broke down and cried its drops out upon the earth. The rain was cold and sickly to the touch and clumped against the dirt in a moldy goo. Both of them skirted to the bottom of the hill and entered the commercial district of Winhill, dodging inside a rundown pub.

A sharp click-click of the devastating chamber of a pawned sawn-off shotgun stopped them dead in their tracks, and a nasty voice split the ominous air. "Who the fuck is there?!!"

"Danny, it's me, Raine," the head nurse pleaded, "Raine Hart! I've returned to the village."

The acrid Danny immediately dropped his gun to hip level and showed a deep apologetic look in his steel-blue eyes. "Heavens to Eden, Miss Hart, you're always too reckless sometimes."

Raine shook the water out of her hair. "Well, even if it _is_ raining outside, you're much too trigger-happy for your own good." She motioned for Laguna to follow her to the bar. "Is it too late for a drink, Mr. Huston?"

"Not for you, girl, but who is he?"

Laguna felt the cold hard eyes piercing him, and he saw the pubowner's fingers were still wrapped, loosely, around the trigger. He figured his machine gun was causing some trouble, so he slowly took it off.

"Danny!" Raine shouted, seated at the counter. "Put your gun away now."

"Dammit, this guy's a Galbadian, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is Danny, but--"

The pubowner smacked the table hard and advanced from behind the bar. "Trouble starts with either a _G_ or an _E _in these parts, mister. We don't respect either of them, you understand?"

"I'm not here to cause trouble, kind sir," Laguna uttered mildy.

"Oh!" A new voice popped up from a new man, old yet still athletic in appearance. The newcomer descended the stairs of the two-story pub with a pistol out in his hand and a mug in the other. "Oh, did you hear that Danny? He's not here to cause trouble. Just 'nother fucker twat come to give Winhill some advice, eh?"

"Yeah, advice," Danny gloated, and then he indicated the newcomer to Laguna's ammunition, "or a piece of lead."

"Danny! Rico! He's here to help you," Raine shouted, standing up and wrenching the shotgun from Danny's grasp.

"What are you talking about girl?"

"Commander Grayson asked him to help us with the monster problem, and Laguna here agreed to."

Danny gave Rico a look, who gave him the same look. The pubowner turned back to Laguna and stared at him long and hard. "Whatever, G-man. You do your part and then fuck off, you hear?"

"Yes, sir, I will," Laguna agreed. He noticed Raine's disheartened face, and he grew immediately apprehensive. He knew he wasn't here to muck things up for the locals, and so did she. Unfortunately, even the older gentleman with the pistol named Rico looked tough enough to persuade, so Laguna shouldered his weapon and headed out the door.

Raine looked at her full glass and pushed it away with a curl of her lip and got up for the door.

"Raine, girl, what're you doin bringin a fella in like that?" Danny demanded setting his sawn-off back underneath the bar cubby.

Rico hid his pistol and went back upstairs. "Yeah, girl," he called back, "dontcha know they _allow_ those greenies to kidnap our little ones?"

"All your life, you've hated the Galbadians," Danny added.

Unaware, she clenched her fists really tight and then released them. "We found him half-dead by the Ephemeral Lagoon. He and two of his comrades had faced-off and escaped about a hundred Estharians. He's not one for fighting naturally, Danny."

"What, you like this prick?"

"I didn't say that, Danny, and he's not a prick!"

"You should've let him die, girl."

"Danny! For Eden's sake."

"His kind is not in the blessings of Eden, Raine, and you know that!"

Raine gave him a cold look and stormed out the door, not bothering to watch him shake his head in frustration. She found Laguna staring off in the distance, a crack in the storm gutter above him gently running water in a thin stream down on the top of his head. She startled him when she gently tucked him to the side out of the water.

"My.. head was a bit warm anyway," he said sheepishly.

She laughed briefly. "I am so sorry. The locals here are bit on edge."

"Yeah... I can see that."

She pulled the hood of her jacket over her hair and nudged him forward. "I'm sorry also that you have to get wet, but my place is just past the temple."

They quickly trotted out of the small commercial district and listened to another terrific thunderclap. Lightning flashed in a nasty spiderweb over conjoined cloud bottoms, and Laguna thought he saw something yellow skitter between the farm crops and flower groves.

He readied his gun, but Raine put her hand on his arm. "That's just a Chocobo."

"A what?"

"A Chocobo. You've never seen one?"

"Cho-co-bo. That does not ring a bell at all." He thought he had heard the word before, and then he remembered Ward said something about a secret den somewhere to the north. _Or south... damn my sense of direction_ is _wrong._ "Are they a bird or something?"

"Hm. Something like that. Here." She grabbed his arm and hauled him toward a sheltered nook in the High God Eden's southern temple. Their bodies remained close together to draw some heat on them, for the autumn rain season brought some chilly weather to the folks of South Galbadia. "Watch this," she said in his ear. She leaned forward slightly, puckered her lips slightly, and blew a fine whistle long and trilling. It seemed to carry above the din of the rainfall and the clap of the thunder. In the distance, a soft whinning sound responded and a bright yellow thing scampered out of the closest bush and came running to greet them.

Laguna almost pissed his pants. This thing looked like a cross between a bird and a horse. It had fur and feathers! Bright yellow shiny and wavy fur collared its neck, around its ears, and its chest. Bright yellow feathers groomed its back and the caps of its limbs. Its two hind legs were gnarled like a chicken's but hooved like a steed's. It had bright cheery eyes and a muzzle resembling a combination of the two animals it seemed to represent. "I _have _seen everything now."

He was even more surprised when the bird-horse skidded to a stop in front of them tossing up rainy muddy gravel, and then Raine went and stroked its neck and ears. The creature closed its eyes cheerfully and gave a _purring_ sound mixed with a squawk. "The Chocobos are accustomed to coming to the southern part of the continent here, but their homes are in the forest dens of Trabia and Esthar. They're really playful, even if they don't know you too well. Highly defensive, too. If they feel threatened in any way, they can kick you really hard with their feet and then scamper away. "

"That's it?"

"Believe me, buster, one kick from them, and your body would be severed in two."

Laguna watched the cheerful eyes of the yellow creature stare at him playfully. "I'll.. definitely keep that in mind."

The Chocobo squawked loudly and then scampered away, the rain barely making contact against its feathers. Raine looked at him. "They're extremely agile and quick. The Trabian militia has used them for centuries as calvary units. The rain hardly has any effect on them at all."

"Cool."

"Come on, it's getting really cold out here."

The deep river dammed up on the eastern side of the temple cut sharply across the northern end, and they ran across a stone bridge and went into the residential area. The rain picked up speed, and they picked up speed and headed for her pub/house on the farthest western end. She fumbled the keys in the lock, but the door opened unexpectedly on her scaring the crap out of her.

A cute little girl in green pajamas greeted her. "Ra-ine!"

Raine hauled Laguna in and shut the door, the rain soaking the inside of her jacket against her skin. She whirled onto the little girl. "Ellone! Why're you here alone?"

"I had keys from you earlier," she replied in her high-pitched voice.

"Elle, it's dangerous out there, you know. I thought you were staying with Miss Amy while I was gone for the month."

"She told me you'd be back today."

Raine shrugged, seeing as how it was too late in the day to chastise anyone.

"Who's this?"

Raine, in her mish-mash of thoughts, completely forgot Laguna was standing right there. And all wet and soppy, too. "Oh, excuse me, this is Laguna. Laguna Loire. He's going to be staying with us for several weeks."

"La-gu-na," the little girl replied, smiling and giggling. Laguna thought the little girl was exceptionally cute. She had her short brown hair in pigtails, and her pale skin shined bright against the dreariness of the interior pub/house. The big bright smile on her face, though, suddenly shifted to a big bright frown, and she looked at Raine. "What about the monsters? What if he gets hurt?"

"Don't you worry, Elle. That's why he's here."

Quickly that big bright smile returned again. "You are?!"

Laguna crouched to meet her at eye-level. "Yes, little one, I'll be the Monster Hunter for a little while."

She clapped her hands. "Monster Hunter, yea!"

"Okay, Ellone, it's your bedtime now," Raine said, indicating the upstairs room.

"Ohhh... but you all just got here."

"Hey," Laguna said, smiling, "I won't be going anytime soon."

"That's right. Cuz your the Monster Hunter, right?"

"I sure am. And part of my job would be to not let them get you, you know."

"Yea!"

"That's right," Raine said, folding her arms, "and now, since it's almost ten o clock, you will be safe and sound in your bed upstairs, young lady."

"Yes, ma'am," Ellone quietly said. At the foot of the stairs, she turned and gave Laguna a big wave and kept doing it until he waved back at her. She smiled big again and ran up the stairs as fast as she could.

"That's a cute kid right there," Laguna said.

Raine still had her arms crossed, and she seemed to be stuck in thought. She had heard him, though. "Yeah, she's an angel. Always smiling, always talkative. She really brightens up my day."

The question was nagging the back of his mind, but he wanted to approach it smoothly. "Is it just you two here?"

"Yes. She's four years old, and her birthday was just a couple months ago. It would have made her parents happy." The last part choked the back of her throat, and she reached into the fridge for some water.

Laguna's eyes widened. " The commander told me about that. They were killed in the first big swarm?"

She poked at the corner of her eye, stopping the flow of tears. "Yes, if you don't mind sleeping in the house next door, you'll notice the damages done to it. That was her house, and there's bullet holes everywhere. Adel had usurped command of an assault team, and they came and tore the place. They also bombed the back half of the temple-- the half you didn't see on the way over here. We still use it, though."

"If you don't mind me asking, how did Ellone survive?"

"I was her mother's best friend and the secondary caretaker after the parents. It was her mother's dying wishes for me to hide her in the cellar of the pub. Yet, the driving force was so determined to find her. They eventually found a way in, but ... ooh me... luck was on Winhill's side that day. One of the Estharian soldiers had a bit of heart left in him, and he betrayed his squad by angering a couple of Chocobos and then unleashing them. They charged the Estharians and routed them, killing one of them in the process.

"Unfortunately, Adel found out and sent a wave of monsters to harass this village. The geography of this land enables us to have a slight advantage. The sea protects us to the south. There's a deep, deep river valley to the east of us, and a rugged mountain peak to the west. And Galbadia controls the northern part. In order to get to us, Adel has to place troops from the north or south, but then she has to risk confrontations with the G-Army and whirlpools in the southern sea. Not a fun task for her, but she is determined."

"So, the monster attacks come in waves?"

"Yes, and at random times. Yet, all of the monsters are afraid of fire for some reason. The priests at the temple have been able to conjure up fire orbs to place at each of the entrances at nighttime to stave off any surprise attack. Unfortunately, they're only good at night and not in the day."

A clap of thunder scared the both of them and jolted her toward his arms. They held each other awkwardly and looked into each other's eyes.

"You getting fresh with me, Monster Hunter?"

"...Well... I don't smell particularly fresh."

She sniffed and then laughed. "Yeah, you smell pretty rank."

He laughed as well and made his way for the door.

"Laguna."

He turned back.

"Thanks for helping us."

They both exchanged a shy smile and went in opposite directions. He found the house next door unlocked for him, and he went inside dropping his gun in surprise. The house was a small two-story cottage with only one large room on the bottom half. Bullet holes and dried blood streamlined all of the walls. The heavy air in the room was almost suffocating, and he collapsed to his knees. He recognized the distinctive bullet tracings as the fine-tipped ringlets from the Sniper S-Ts of the elite Estharian unit. Without having seen the event happen, he instantly pictured how it did-- a surprise ambush that caught the little girl's parents while they were eating dinner. Ellone must have been elsewhere, probably in the cellar hiding. The greenies came in... and blew the couple away to Eden's hall.

On his knees, Laguna swayed and felt dizzy so he sat on his rump and gazed up at the ceiling. He wished he hadn't. Stairs in the back rose to the second floor, and a wraparound staircase covered the top of the first floor. More bullet scars flanked the outside edges of the case, of a different variety. Laguna was lost for words to help him out. The scars were bullet tracings from a SIG-22, a Galbadian arm.

He gulped and almost set off some of his pineapples by accident. The G-Army had helped out the greenies in this swarm.

A great pain and a throbbing buzzing sound afflicted his temples. He didn't care if it was the faeries or some of his own natural energy, he let the pain persist him. He sat on the floor and was surprised to find no tears streak his cheeks; he could feel them at the ready. His right hand was locked in a vise grip on the holster of his gun, and he was unknowingly rapping his left fist on the floorboards in intensifying hits. His own military had personally aided and abetted a terrorist body and destructive force; and he had, unbeknownst of course but still, let it happen. He was a part of the force and thus responsible, under Galbadian creed, for anything and _every_thing Galbadian soldiers did. A great anger eclipsed the throbbing pain and seared his skin a flush red. His hand gripping the machine gun threatened to melt all the sinews, veins, and tissues away.

Then he thought of Ellone.

The faeries or whatever afflicted him beat him, and he cried immensely for a long time, sitting on that dusty floor in a haunted house.

* * *

"Uncle Laguna!"

The sound was loud but sweet as candy, so he turned around from his desk with a big smile on his face, as she bounded up the stairs and into his room. Even after three months since his arrival, she was ecstaticly cute every day he woke up. Standing there in front of him in a bright green dress and white sandals, he knew the little girl would be a beautiful woman someday-- just like her mother looked from the picture frame downstairs.

He had to think about something, so he laid back in his chair and thought. He couldn't remember when was the first time Ellone had called him "Uncle". At first, he thought it weird and so did everyone else. But this little girl was so energetic, so pleasing, and so happy that he adored her little title for him. Plus, he noticed it gave a little craw in the villager's attitudes, so he secretly enjoyed it more.

"Uncle Laguna! Whatcha doin?"

"Thinkin sweetie, whatcha doin?"

"I'm thinkin too!"

"Yeah, whatcha thinkin bout?"

"Um.. I dunno."

Well, that was kinda what Laguna was thinkin about too. Then, he stopped smiling for a short second. "Hey, did you come over here by yourself?"

"I sure did," she answered smiling big.

"Elle! It's dangerous out there."

She covered her mouth and widened her eyes. "I did a bad thing?"

"Yes, there's monsters out there!" He had need to be worried. In the past couple weeks, the bug creatures had been coming in larger swarms attacking the garden area and the cemetery. One particular swarm crushed a couple stores in the commercial district and severed off old man Rico's pistol hand-- Laguna didn't particularly have a bad thing to say about that.

"Oh," she replied, giggling mischievously. "It's only next door."

"Yes, yes, of course, but these monsters are fast. And you know what they do to cute little girls around here?"

"What?" she asked, fascination eclipsing her.

"They'll grab them and suck all their brains out."

"Ew. Brains." She had turned up her nose.

"Hey, you know you got brains inside your head, right?" He laughed poking her forehead.

She touched the spot where he poked and then asked, "Then all I have to do is call you for help, right?"

"Uh.. sure, yes, anytime."

She pumped her fists in the air. "Yea!" She then stopped and watched him with keen interest as he rose from the desk chair and went to go put on his denim jacket. With adoring fascination, she watched as he slowly wrapped the SLG-treb strap across his shoulder.

"What's the big news, Elle?"

"There's a man at the pub right now, Uncle Laguna."

"Villagers come by there all the time to get a drink, Elle."

"This man's diff-rent," she squeaked. "He's wearin funny-lookin clothes, and his skin's all dark. I've neva seen a brown person before."

Laguna froze where he stood. _Nah, it couldn't be_, he thought. "Did you find his name?"

"No. Those clothes were too funny lookin. So I ran over here."

"Hm." He stood by the bedpost and laid a hand on it. It had been awhile, but he wasn't entirely sure yet. Maybe the "funny-lookin" man had a friend along as well? "Is he still there?"

"Yes! Follow me!" Ellone chirped excitedly, and then she bolted out the door.

"Elle!" _Damn, she's going to get into trouble one day_. He slapped on some pineapple canisters and hauled after her, his gun clanking against his back. Fear gripped his heart as he clamored down the steps, as if he pictured a Caterchippilar lying in wait on the doorstep. He found her standing daintily by the coffeetable instead, her hands folded in front of her and a big bright smile on her face. He gave a collected sigh, "Elle, dear, you can't just up and run like that."

"But I waited for you. Am I a good girl?"

He smiled. "Yes, you are. You are a good girl." Taking note of the picture on the fireplace mantle, of which the hearth had not seen a flame since four years ago, he said, "Dear Ellone's parents, Ellone has been a very good girl today." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Right?"

"Yep!" she giggled.

He sighed. They went through pretty much the same conversations everyday. She'd come over by herself, he'd race down here in a panic, and then they'd joke it off. And then he would go on a monster run. First things first, though, was Raine's pub. And this mysterious "funny-lookin" stranger.

She followed him out the door, as he made a careful screening of the village square. Normally, monsters never were able to cross into the residential section, but Laguna never missed an opportunity. He knew he looked funny-looking himself gazing back and forth and this way and that way, but he didn't care. It made Ellone happy. He guided her over to the pub and walked in after her.

Raine had let her hair grow out past her shoulders, and when they walked in she was busy putting it up in a ponytail. She gave them a bright smile, and her eyes alit at Laguna briefly before going back to the bar and setting up shop for the day. "Elle!" she said sternly, causing Ellone to look at the floor. "For the last time, quit running around everywhere outside. You don't want anything bad to happen to you, right?"

"No, ma'am," she said, still looking down at the floor.

Raine turned to fiddle with some glasses. Ellone turned toward Laguna. "I got'n trouble."

Laguna lowered his voice and replied, "Toooo bad." To her amusement.

But not to Raine's. "Laguna! Use proper words when speaking please."

"Oh, yes, ma'am," he answered quickly. Behind her back, he winked at the little one and said, "_I_ got'n trouble!"

Ellone giggled. "Toooo bad."

A thud on the counter alerted the both of them and they saw Raine looking a little peeved.

"All right, all right, I won't let it happen again," Laguna said.

Raine shook her head slowly. "You're keeping your guest waiting, you know."

"Guest?" Laguna had forgotten again, until he saw Raine pointing to the corner of the pub. A tall dark-skinned man with long dreadlocks was sitting in the farthest table with a newspaper and a mug of cider, silent and reading. He had on a bright red and orange bodysuit that looked indeed "funny-lookin", but the image was unmistakable. "Kiros!!" Laguna shouted loudly, scaring Ellone and Raine a bit.

The old comrade snickered to himself. His boss was still the same old Laguna. He brought the newspaper down and looked him in the eye. "Good to see you again, Laguna."

"Goodness gracious me. Where in the heck have you been?" Laguna walked over to him and embraced him hard. The dark man had a permanent scar across his face, no doubt a "gift" from the greenies.

"It's been a haphazard five months to say the least." They walked over to the bar, and Raine poured them both a glass of liquor.

"Well, you look better than ever."

"Same as you oddly enough. I'd expect you to still be in the infirmary."

"Heh, he would've been if I wasn't so skilled in medicine," Raine chided, allowing Kiros to chuckle.

"Hey," Laguna said, "my bones are just good healing material. That's all."

"Well, Laguna, bones need tissues to heal them, you know, so you do need a little help after all," Kiros jested.

Raine laughed and sat back on a stool. She felt that this would be an interesting conversation, and she noticed Ellone looking back and forth between them. She was an inquisitive four-year old, even if the dark man was a funny-lookin person.

"Whew," Laguna was saying, "that fall pretty much killed me to say the least." He realized that the reason for his survival (about the faeries) might harm the situation, so he carefully left that out. "I must've mustered some strength to get me through that."

Kiros caught on. "Yeah, when I fell, too, it was horrific to say the least. I ended up floating onto an island that was a worship place for a serpent or something. Luckily, I didn't get to see the monster."

"We've got monsters here, too!" Ellone piped up.

"Ellone, no butting into conversations," Raine scolded.

"Sorry."

"Oh, it's perfectly fine, miss," Kiros said, "you all got some problems here in this part of the world?"

"Yes, but we got this Monster Hunter here to help us," Raine smiled pointng at Laguna.

"Oh, Sweet Eden, that's gotta be a doozy," Kiros chuckled.

Laguna swiped him on the shoulder. "I'll have you know I've eliminated countless nests of them around here."

"Oh, I have to know about this."

"More on that later. First, your story."

Kiros shrugged. "Fine enough. While on that island, the natives there nurtured me back to health with these weird orbs. I don't know how to explain this, but they looked like magic. Like the kinds of things the Sorceress uses that somehow ended up out here."

"Magic, huh?"

"Yeah, a curing power. Steam erupted from my body, and all my open wounds closed up within seconds. The pain was bad, though, but man let me tell you it worked like a charm. All the pus and infection was gone, too."

"Weird."

"Ew, pus," Ellone winced, scrunching up her nose.

"Well, then," Kiros continued, "they took me to this garrison called Kelso out on the southeastern tip of Galbadia. An army colonel was there and accepted me from the natives. Unfortunately, he was able to figure out who I was and who I was travelling with, and he promptly told the head commander of the garrison. Things looked pretty bleak, you know, and capital punishment looked to be the next plan of action."

"So that is true," Raine spoke up.

"Hm?"

"You all will be summarily executed just out of the blue like that?"

"Not out of the blue, no. Just for failing to follow an order. Now, I'm not here to blame Laguna or anything, but our failure to report back in a timely manner is grounds for termination, yes."

"Goodness."

"Told you," Laguna said, "it's my biggest gripe."

"But Laguna," Kiros said gulping the last of liquor, of which Raine promptly poured another. "The head commander did not give that order."

"He didn't?"

"No, he wanted to know where you and Ward were. See, they had figured out what we had uncovered by accident on Centra."

"What?"

"The Lunatic Pandora."

"The what?"

"The Lunatic Pandora. The damn thing is three hundred stories of iron-clad ultimatum, a breeding-ground for the Sorceress Adel and any of her followers who wish to utilize and procreate within it."

Laguna grunted. "But it has Estharian markings on it."

"Sure. They have acquiesed to her demands and allowed the vessel to be submerged within Centra to provide a future base against anyone that threatens to bring her down. Now that Galbadia knows about it, they're thinking of taking it to Tear's Point."

"Great. Then, what did the commander do to you?"

"He asked me what I wanted to do, and I told him I wanted to find you and Ward. Then,... er.. I dunno from there. I guess wing it like we always do."

"Well, where's Ward? We'll need to get started pretty soon then," Laguna asked, knowing Raine's surprised face was on his.

"It's funny that you mention him."

"Why? Did he recover?"

"Yes... and no. He'll never be able to speak again."

Laguna grumbled and said nothing comprehensible.

"He quit the Army actually."

"He did?"

"Yes, and now... heh.. he's at the D-District Prison."

"What! You mean to tell me he went psycho and killed somebody?"

"No, man. He's a janitor at the prison."

"A what?"

"A janitor."

"Bull. That guy'd never clean floors for a living. Totally not his character. You should see this guy, Raine. He's like 6'8'', wide as a house, and he carries this big anchor thing on his back that does some serious damage. But.. Kiros! he'd never do something like that."

"Well, I didn't believe it either, actually, until I went there myself. The prison sits in the vast Dingo Desert of Galbadia, isolated from all civilization. It's extremely hot there, and the the three-column metal prison is surrounded by ferocious dragon zombies and behemoths. Sort of the guard dogs that hunt and tear apart escapees. Nobody ever escapes that prison. I was able only to enter the lobby of the compound, and they showed me a directory of the work staff. Each of the names contained the agent's signature, and I recognized Ward's handwriting. He works the top three levels and the crane that carries inmates down and up the thirteen-story prison."

"Can he leave?"

"Not unless we bust him out."

"Is that possible?"

"Possible, not probable. Unless you got another hair-brained plan in your head."

"Always have those," Laguna chortled. Kiros did the same and asked for another mug. The alcohol was mixing with the buzzing sound in his head. He knew Laguna wanted to talk about that some more, but Kiros figured the pubowner and the little girl would look at them funny.

Laguna had a fleeting thought pass through his brain, and he looked at Raine first before speaking. "How is Julia?"

"Julia?" Kiros asked.

"The pianist at the bar in Deling City?" He caught Raine's glance.

"Oh!" Kiros gleamed. "The one you always hawked on?"

"I didn't hawk on her."

"Well, she left a great impression on you as far as I know."

"Tch," Laguna snorted.

"She got married."

"She did?"

"Yeah, while I was in Kelso, a song played on the radio there, and I can't remember what the name of it was."

"Are you," Raine started, "are you two talking about Julia Heartilly the singer from Deling City?"

"Well, at the time she was a pianist," Kiros said. "She wasn't singing at the time."

"Then _Eyes on Me_ was her first song. I like it. It was a very romantic song."

"I never heard that," Laguna said.

"Yeah, it came out a couple months ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I didn't know you listened to music all that much."

"The reason I bring that up then," Kiros interjected, "is that it's about her true love, and how she wanted to see him again."

Laguna paused. "Oh?"

"Yeah, you see she had met and was able to talk with him for a good long while in her room. Then he left, because some duties called him out. A couple months went by, and she grew depressed. Well along comes this militia general guy for the Deling Guard. Oh, what was his name? Oh, yeah, Rafeal Carroway. They eventually married and moved into his mansion in the center of Deling City."

"I see."

"She recorded the song while she was in the process of getting married. Carroway thought it was about him, but she stated in a private interview that it was about someone else."

"Well, that's fine," Laguna said in a voice too loud for the occasion, "as long as she's happy. Right, Elle?"

Ellone smiled innocently. "Yea! Just like Raine and La--"

"Ahhh... let's hold off on any more conversation," Laguna clumsily said.

"What?" Kiros asked.

"There's a job to be done now."

"Oh, a patrol, Laguna?" Raine asked.

"Yeah, it shouldn't take long. Especially since I'll be having an assistant."

"Who, me?" Kiros asked.

"Yes. We'll be going down to the southern entrance of Winhill and then end back here. That's all."

"Sounds good to me. You don't mind, miss?"

"You work for what you eat around here, Mr. Kiros," Raine said.

"Then it's settled. We'll be back shortly," Laguna hailed to Ellone's clapping hands.

* * *

The air was chilly and almost into the December month. The tranquility of the village square was unlike anything Laguna had found in all of his trips. Before the airstrikes of Timber the atmosphere was never this calm, nor up in the snowy terrains of Trabia. The cities definitely never resembled this tranquility. Dollet, Deling, Timber, Kelso even. None of them offered a glimpse of the peacefulness this town offered.

If only the townies were the same way.

Laguna still was not on good terms with them. For some of the townsfolk, he never crossed their paths, especially not after a couple Tuesdays ago. That damn buster was ready to stick his rake in Laguna's neck. True, Laguna was known to be overzealous in his monster extermination, but the man was only trying to do his job.

They walked across the stony bridge linking the residential area to the large and demolished temple of Eden. Kiros gave a loud whistle and exclaimed, "On my way over here, I thought this area was impressive. You must really enjoy being here for the time being."

"It's quite peaceful, yes."

They gazed for a while at the temple. Priests still dwelled inside it, unwilling to leave its majesty. The fire orb spigots still burned profusely, the only spigots in the town that was able to burn all day everyday. The front side was blackened in places but still intact, while the back side was cleaved in two. The Estharians had sent big guns in before, and they had attacked with a great fury even though they failed in capturing a single child alive. What still remained of the temple's structure was beautiful enough with engraved carvings on basaltic stone rising three stories into the air with a golden symbol of Eden stuck on the top.

"The faeries are back," Kiros said suddenly, jolting Laguna from his thoughts.

During the talk at the pub, he had been trying to ignore that buzzing sound, too. Knowing his own personality, Laguna was surprised that he was able to hold that in so long. "Yeah, they've seemed to come back with a vengeance, haven't they?"

"What are these things, really? I know about the mythologies, ok, but why are _we_ being subjected to it?"

"It makes the events of the day go by a lot swifter."

"You're dodging the question."

"I dunno. They come and go. When I fell off the cliff, they were there like a swarm, and I think-- I'm not positive-- but I think they were responsible for keeping me alive."

"Yeah... that's what happened to me, too. Did they go away afterwards?"

"Yeah, as soon as I woke up on the beach."

Kiros was silent. "It seems as if something is controlling us... like a video game player or something."

"Shit, man, don't be getting all twisted on me now."

"Well, I am looking forward to the battles," the dark-skinned pummler grinned wickedly. He brought out his signature daggers, special two-bladed katals, from the inside of his bodysuit and placed them comfortably back on his wrists. "So, we're on a patrol?"

"Yep," Laguna answered, readying a clip in his SLG-treb.

"What exactly do you do on a patrol?"

"We go from the residential area, past the temple, to the left past the cemetery where the fishing pier is located, and then down into the commerical area. Then back up to the farm fields, and then back to the residential area, back to 'base'."

"Base?"

"Raine's pub."

"Oh, that woman who owns the bar, huh?"

"Raine, man, Raine. That's her name."

"Huh, imagine that."

Laguna felt slightly agitated, for a reason he couldn't explain. "Come on, let's head south."

The dirt path veered to the east of the church and beheld the dark black river below. Certain bacteria in the water gave the dark charcoal color flowing through it. It contrasted well against the depressing cemetery overlooking it atop a hill that connected to the residential area. This was the part of Laguna's jaunt that unsettled him sometimes-- most of the tombstones were recipients of both Esthar's and Galbadia's successive raids on the countryside.

A splash in the dark water alerted their attention, but they turned to view nothing.

"Heh," Laguna snorted, "it's playing hide-and-seek." He cocked his weapon ready, while Kiros looked on in amusement.

The machine gun-wielder walked all hunched over to the edge of the path, gun sights on, and looking like he was making a drug raid. A couple more splashes sounded to his right, and a hasty trigger finger shot bullets ricocheting off the water's surface.

The sound was enough to cause the camoflauged Caterchippillar behind Kiros to awaken. It had morphed its normally green and yellow hide to resemble a brown tree stump. The sharp stinger on its ass was poised and ready to cut a deep gash in the dagger fighter's back. Except for a sudden burst of intuition that crept into Kiros's head, the attack would've worked. The agile man whipped around in a nasty arc and severed off the stinger ass with one dagger swipe. The second dagger severed the Caterchippillar's abdomen in half. Gurgling on its own purplish blood, it watched helplessly as Kiros plunged both bloody daggers into its skull.

Laguna whistled appreciatively and then shot to bits the advancing Caterchippillar who had come to help its friend. The headless corpse flew backwards into a tree, splattering the bark in purple. The thud, though, woke up a nest of Caterchippillars, and a horrible screeching noise emitted out of them. As well, they were not alone. Laguna and Kiros heard the faint throbbing sounds of wings battering the air, and when they looked up they saw the ugly bulbous Bite bugs advancing from the top of the massive oak tree. A large silky nest was wrapped around the tree limbs. Those flying devils had heads the size of cantalopes and an actual set of teeth. One Caterchippillar sprayed a purplish goo over Kiros's chest burning him slightly, and a Bite bug started tearing at his neck. Laguna fired in an arc and took out a string of Bite bugs before they had a chance to swarm. Kiros ducked from another bite and then decapitated the bug.

Whatever made the splash in the river showed itself. An ugly serpentine creature sprang out of the water and landed with its fellow bug creatures and began advancing the patrol duo. It was all dark brown with a vicious maw and flame-broil eyes. It slithered quickly over the dirt and lunged fiercely at Laguna, who could only save himself from death by firing at its face while falling to the ground. The serpent's head was peckered like swiss cheese, but it looked more than willing to continue. Kiros shrugged off the Bite bugs and soaked in as much energy the faeries could allow him. Eyeing the serpent, he brought the daggers up and ran towards it. He spun into the elongated body and whirled at least a dozen times while shouting _Blood Fury!_. The two daggers sliced the serpent's body with deep gashes, spraying brown blood and organs all over the dirt. Kiros looked for a second wind, but a Caterchippillar jumped him and knocked him to the ground. They rolled down the pathway, fighting and wrestling. Kiros's body mass was able to crush the bug's, but more enemies surrounded him.

Laguna saw the serpent was still alive and pissed off royally. He dodged another lunge and then saw a wine barrel leaning against the corner of the temple. A fixture hung on the wall of the temple, just enough so as to give Laguna another crazy idea. He knew Kiros was feeling the effects of the faeries, and he felt them inside him. He somersaulted over another vicious lunge that broke the muzzle of the serpent against the ground, and then Laguna pulled out a pineapple. Twisting the pin off he plunged the grenade down the serpent's gullet. Quickly, he climbed the barrel and reached for the fixture for support, readying the machine gun at the same time. The serpent weakly brought itself to an attack positon, but Laguna's desperado moment was too quick for it. He fired a full clip into the serpent, blinding both eyes, severing some of its flesh off, and ripping its skull to pieces before the pineapple burst inside it. Chunks of meat flew everywhere, and the sound exploded across the entire town. The blast tore into several Bite bugs and Caterchippillars and routed the remaining ones.

Kiros was able to stab his way through the thick, but the incredible grenade blast scared the piss out of the creatures, and they left in a hurry abandoning their nests. The incredible rush of the battle surged in his veins, and he waved his daggers in a circle before bowing victoriously to the temple of Eden. Walking back up the path, he saw the carved-out carcass of the serpent and Laguna raising his own weapon victoriously in the air.

"Well, you sure know how to create a mess all the time, right?" Kiros said.

Laguna dropped down from the barrel. "Strangely enough, it has never been this intense."

"Well, I certainly didn't make it that so."

"I didn't say that. It must have something to do with the faeries."

"Now, that's asking too much."

Laguna expelled the empty clip and loaded a new one. "Let's continue on." They weren't able to move far, though, because the fishing pier was in sight. Laguna always knew that the river was plagued by serpentine creatures, and he had warned the fishermen countless times before. They were just too stubborn to listen. Two of the elderly fishers hobbled over to the battlesite as quickly as their old joints could allow them.

"Watcha makin all that there racket for, son!" the closest watchcap-wearing bespectacled man demanded.

"We-we had a slight infestation here, dear sir," Laguna answered, drawing raised eyebrows from Kiros.

The second old man pointed at the dead serpent. "Always when you come around, those things appear. Do us a favor and go on few less patrols, you hear?"

"Hey!" Kiros shouted. "Without his help, you two would've been snacks for that thing."

The bespectacled man snorted arrogantly. "The hell is a darky talking to me like that for!" He folded his hand into a fist, as if to strike Kiros in the mouth.

"The fuck did you just call me!" Kiros shouted drawing both bladed wrists forward, shocking both of the old men.

Laguna pulled Kiros back sharply and addressed the two fishermen. "Sorry, guys, I won't let out so much noise next time."

"Next time you should just leave," the bespectacled men shouted behind him as he and his friend returned back to the pier. Both of them averted their gaze warily from Kiros.

Kiros shook off Laguna's hands. "Why did you just do that?"

"We can't just rile them up, you know."

"Rile them-- They're the ones who riled this up!"

"Come on, man. It's over. It's over. Let's just continue on."

Kiros looked at him uncertainly and sighed. He knew when Laguna wasn't into explaining things out further. Although, the dagger fighter wasn't sure how long he could stand that. If the next person they came across let out a racial slur, his blade would slice their throat open.

The dirt path changed into a stone path along the fishing pier side, and both of them got a better look at the demolished temple. What must've been an Estharian cruise missile plummeted straight into the back end of Eden's hovel. It was known that the Far East did not worship any dieties, since they dwelled in the land of great technology over there. The collatoral damage was massive for the residential area used to swing behind the temple. Not so anymore. Most of the rubble was still visible and further polluted the river that ran through the village. The rough stone path also gave them glimpses of rotting monster carcasses, some that Laguna had previously taken care of and some the cannibalistic superior monsters had taken care of. Both men kept a steady eye for camoflauged dwellers.

They entered the commercial district safe from monster strikes, but not safe from apprehensive townies. They saw curtains pull back from window shops and angry stony-eyed faces watching them. Laguna knew the routine. For over three months now, every day this happened. What was surprising on this trip, though, that made him stop in his tracks for a second was the sight of small boy flicking him off. He heard Kiros's loud grunt and quickly picked up the pace to escape his remark. The wind wasn't blowing which gave the town a quiet, distilled atmosphere. Their footsteps seemed loud on the now dirty concrete path. Several of the shops were boarded due to the young-to-middle-aged men who had voluntarily enlisted in the Centra Coast Guard, so most of the commercial district was vacant for the while. Danny's Pub was still open, but Laguna steered Kiros away from that, because the machine gun-wielder knew Kiros's blades wouldn't be able to stand up to a sawn-off.

They reached the southern entrance and stopped. Today, unlike his first visit all those months ago, was clear and sunny. No lightning or rainstorm threatened them on this day. They could see the southern sea glistening bright and shiny just over the horizon and the hill. They could also see a cloud of Bite bugs circling around the village, eyeing several entrances warily. The attacks had lessened considerably now that Winhill had a dedicated "Monster Hunter", yet the townsfolk had not lessened their hostility to Laguna by an iota. The two men watched the cloud of blue bugs dance around in a couple circles before venturing off down to the sea to hibernate in their nests. The air was too chilly for them to be out long; they preferred the warm humid climates of Dollet and Alcauld island more than anything else.

"Well, that's it for one patrol," Laguna smiled proudly.

He was met with silence, and when he turned he grew worried at Kiros's expression. The dark man was practically grimacing. "This town seems to hate your guts."

Laguna sighed.

"Laguna, I'm your long-time friend, and you're holding out on me, man."

"I'm an outsider, alright."

"The hell does that have to do with anything. You practically save these people's lives everyday. Right? Everyday. Especially with those fucking snake things, goodness. One lunge from them would especially pick off those old fuckers."

"What I said was true. I'm not from around here."

"I aint either."

Laguna set the machine gun down and took a deep breath. Exhaling, he suddenly wished for a cigarette. Of all the weird times, he actually wanted nicotine at this moment. One particular faery buzzing around in his head snapped a synapse in his brain, and he blinked a couple of times. _That was a weird feeling_, he mused to himself. He saw Kiros's waiting face, and he cleared his throat. "Besides... the hostility of the people here, have you noticed anything at all unusual about this place?"

"Other than the hostility?"

"Other than the hostility."

Kiros looked around. "It's peaceful. Quiet. Beautiful green plains, and was there a flower garden we past earlier?"

"Not only that, but the most abundant farmland south of Deling City. Plus, there's Chocobos over there."

"Chocobos! Wow, that's pretty cool."

"Isn't it? There's a reason for that."

"What?"

"This town/village is outside of Galbadian control, even though it is on the continent of Galbadia. Vinzer Deling wants nothing to do with this place. I mean, sure, Galbadian troops sometimes come by here to investigate things. I've seen a few of them on some of my patrols around here, and they do absolutely jack shit about the monster problem. But, this town is peaceful and protected because of that reason."

"Then why are there sometimes Galbadian soldiers coming over here?"

"To help ward off the main reason this town is hostile: Esthar."

"Esthar? What do those greenies want with this place?"

"Children."

Kiros blinked. "Chil-- I'm not following."

"Sorceress Adel. I didn't think Sorceresses age, but she seems to be aging. She wants a successor to her reign, and you know as well as I do that the greenies are complicit in her scheme, as long as that corrupt government gets a profit out of it, right?"

"Yeah, they'll do anything to collect more money. Even sell their own citizens into serfdom for money."

"Adel wants little girls especially. Cattle to breed into future sorceress succubi. Little boys are also a target, but not so highly sought after. They're used as the Knights of her cabinet or just for obstruction vaults."

"So, she's attacking Winhill, why?"

"She's already rended up the Estharian populace, but she's having a tough time. Tens of thousands of refugees have flocked to various parts of the world, leaving the actual city itself almost a ghost town. What little progress she has made has ended up in failure when the captured children have died in her custody. So she's having to branch out. Yet...." Laguna stopped briefly. The thought of that sweet cute little girl being... He shuddered.

"What's wrong?" Kiros asked, worried.

"Four years ago, when that little girl at the pub was just a wee baby--"

"That cute little girl with the pigtails?"

"Yeah, Ellone. Adel targeted her. That's when the temple got destroyed. That's when a large number of villagers here got murdered. That's when the Centra Coast Guard was created. That's when.... Ellone's parents were murdered." He swallowed a few times. "The next part's a little tough to bear."

"Go on," Kiros said soothingly.

"The Galbadians got involved."

"To help?"

"Not for the Winhillians."

"What are you saying?"

"They helped kill Ellone's parents."

Kiros looked at him astounded. He shook his head several times before responding. "That cannot-- they've never fired on civilians before."

"Go check it out. Her house is right next door to Raine's pub. Esthar bullets are there, but so is the S-22."

"The S-22," Kiros said in disbelief. He muttered something unintelligible, and then gripped his hand into a fist.

"I sent a letter of resignation."

Kiros unclenched his fist and gave Laguna an astonished, understanding, and perplexed look all at the same time. "Laguna, I--"

"I had to, and I'm so glad I did."

"Will they come after you?"

"Screw em. They have better and bigger things on their plate."

"Then, that's actually great news."

Why?"

"On my travels to find you, I ran across the coal town of Timber. There was a new building built fast against the airstrikes that took place there six to seven months ago, a building called Timber Maniacs. It's a journalist haven for underground alternative news sites. The chief editor there promoted government-adoring propaganda on the outside, and the hardcore muckraking stuff on the underground side. So far, the authorities haven't come snooping around, and as long as the editor pays all his taxes and keeps the painted smile going I think his business will be a success."

"Why are you saying this to me?"

"You said you wanted to be a journalist instead of a militant right?"

Laguna thought back to the first day he went through basic training. At the first initial sound of the drill instructor's gruff voice, he knew he had made a huge mistake. He grinned, and Kiros took that as a yes.

The dagger figher continued. "The chief editor is interested in any article relating to world travel. Right up your alley. You have travelled immensly everywhere, and you just love to talk about all the cool things you've seen to people. It is your dream job."

He smiled big. That _was_ his dream job. He remembered talking to Julia about it in her hotel room and how he had hogged all the conversation. She, unlike others, didn't seem to mind. He had talked to other people, too, and always his heart had burst with joy at the telling. Even if they weren't listening, he was enjoying himself. The thrill of the adventure. The grandeur of the moment. The spice of the life. All these things enraptured him to the point of sheer exilerance. He had even told Raine about it...

He frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Laguna started suddenly. He had been musing for a while, unaware that his friend had been calling his attention. "I'm good. Uh... say.. are you going to go with me to Timber?"

"Of course, man. Life without you has been pretty boring, man."

Laguna made a good-hearted laugh and then grew heady. "Do you mind if we stay here a little while longer?"

Kiros raised an eyebrow. "What, you need to gather more material for an analysis or something? This is a hick town, but it has its moments I guess."

"Ma-Material? You mean something to write about this town?"

"Well, yeah, what else would I mean?"

"I couldn't write about this town. It's so peaceful here. A simple life. If I wrote about all the great and wonderful things here, then the city folk would come and destroy this place with their heedless tourism. The whole townsfolk would think an apocalypse was coming with all the 'outsiders' coming in."

Kiros had an epiphany. He studied his good friend a bit and could not believe what he thought was mixed in between the lines. "Are you worried... that someone's gonna steal Raine away? Like... what happened to Julia?"

Laguna stared wide-eyed at him, but before he could speak, a loud gurgling sound echoed from the far northern end of the commercial district followed by a loud-pitched squawk. Laguna ignored Kiros's question and raced towards the fight. Wounding through the dirty concrete path, they saw a Chocobo fighting another serpent with a Caterchippillar flailing around in the background. The strong bird horse leapt over the green-yellow bug's acidic spittle and then crushed it with its beak. Bright purplish goo coated the Chocobo's head and temporarily blinded it. The serpent used the opportunity to wrap itself around the helpless bird horse before sinking its maw for a fatal bite.

Laguna wasted no time with the pineapples and let loose a full barrage of ammo from the SLG-treb. The faeries were back with a vengeance. Kiros rolled across the ground in a somersault and sliced two huge gashes on the serpent's brown neck, releasing the dead Chocobo from its maw. Pummeled from both sharp piercing bullets and gashed from two horrible blade slices, the weakened snake withered back to rout away. Before Laguna could place another clip in the SLG, a powerful shotgun blast blew the snake's head clean off dropping the body in a sickly brown goo.

Both fighters looked to see Danny the pubowner with his smoking sawn-off resting on his hip. "They're comin awfully close to the pub, Laguna," he snorted as if the incident was the former soldier's fault.

Kiros itched to retort but met Laguna's gaze before he could open his mouth. Laguna responded, "I'm keeping my eye out as best as I can, sir."

"Hm. Yes, you are. It's about high time you've left, too. Don't know what the fuck that foolish Raine girl keeps you around for." He snorted again as he sheathed the gun and went back inside his pub.

They could see more curtains pulled back and more disapproving faces peering out at them.

Laguna shouldered his gun and told Kiros to follow him, before the dark man lost his cool again.

It took half an hour to reach the farmlands section, and more Chocobos were racing about. Kiros's mood brightened as he saw them, and he had to stop. "So, there are Chocobos in this land."

"Yes, they're amazing creatures. I'm afraid that one earlier bit off more than it could chew."

"Are they always aggressive like that?"

"No. I think the snake was just provoking it a little bit."

"Laguna... this is a beautiful town. But, you gotta get away from here, man."

"..... I know."

"It is about Raine, isn't it?"

"Kiros! I never said anything about that."

"Laguna, I can read you like a book."

"You can't judge the pages by its cover."

"Well, that's judge the _book_ by its cover, but either way, your cover and your pages are extremely transparant."

Laguna leaned against the fence separating the farm fields from the dirt path. Raine's pretty face came into view again, and he remembered the first sunny trip they went on through the town. She, unlike him, had ignored the disparaging looks the townies gave them. She seemed generally thrilled with hanging around him, or at least in his presence that is. More so than with Julia, these had been the happiest of moments. He heard Kiros chuckling, and he attempted to throw an irritated glance at him.

"Oh my goodness," Kiros laughed, "you have changed!"

Laguna wrenched himself away from the fence and fought to be mad. "It's not like that all, man!"

"I'm sure it isn't." Kiros was smiling slyly.

Laguna checked his watch and found that it was almost noon. "We need to see the commander and the assistant-commander."

"Raine and Ellone?"

"............Yes."

Kiros chuckled some more as he followed an annoyed Laguna back to the "base".

* * *

Her pub door was open, but she had placed a closed sign on the window. Even though it should have been open for business at the time, she must not have been quite ready yet. Laguna was surprised, though, for the pub didn't look ready at all. The upstairs door was open, and both of them slowly went up it. They stopped walking near the top, for two voices were talking. He realized it was them, and he turned to leave. Kiros blocked him and shook his head.

"Girl talk, man," Laguna whispered. "Let's go."

"It might be something important."

"Kiros."

"My gut tells me to listen."

The little one, Ellone, spoke up first, her sweet lilty voice coming from the back, presumably on the pink-striped couch. "Raine, are yoo gonna marry Uncle Laguna?"

Kiros nudged Laguna's rib.

"Me?" Raine replied, her voice coming somewhere to the right, presumably by the mirror. "Marry a guy like that? He washed up on shore, and they expected me to care for him. All because I happened to know a bit about medicine and anatomy/physiology."

Laguna didn't know why he felt so shocked, or why his shoulders seemed to sag slightly. _Wait a minute,_ he thought, _I know why. Can't let Kiros figure that out._ Unfortunately, he knew Kiros already knew that.

Raine was still talking: "And to think about it, he speaks crudely like an uncaring teenager or an uncouth city dweller. He said he wanted to be a journalist, remember! His vocabulary skills are horrible, too, he won't get very far in that if he can't fix his vocabulary up. Oh, and let me tell you, _every single time_ I try to have a serious conversation with him he's always like "Oh! Sorry Raine, I've gotta go somewhere" or "I have to use the little boy's room" or "There's monsters to fight!" And that snoring, oh my Eden, does he snore. The people in Trabia can hear his snoring."

Kiros chuckled softly, with a hand over his mouth. Laguna seemed peeved.

"Plus, oh my Eden," she continued, "sometimes it's better when he's snoring. When he's awake, he's _talking _all the time. Plus, and this is worse, he talks in his sleep. Double plus, he talks _more when he's asleep than when he's awake!_"

Laguna looked at Kiros, while Kiros fought another laugh and nodded in response.

Ellone responded. "But he's really, really, really nice. I really like him a lot."

Raine let out a sigh that Laguna found strangely curious.

Ellone added, "Raine, Uncle Laguna, and Elle should all be together forever."

Raine's voice, from her previous rant, became instantly calm. "It's not so simple, Elle. If he stays here, I know it'll make you happy, but you must listen to me. He's got to be happy, too. Guys like him can only hang around a small town like this for so long before they start getting bored with it. He's been here for months now, and he must be getting stir-crazy about it. The people here don't like him, and he can only take so much of that, you know. You remember him talking about all the travels he went on, right?"

Silence presumed, and Laguna and Kiros assumed that Ellone had nodded. Movement occurred like footsteps on the floor, and they ducked a little further down the stairs quietly. Raine continued, closer now, "He wants to travel the world some more. He came from a big city, the biggest in the world. Life there goes by so fast that it drowns out anytime you wish to have just a peaceful night out for. I'm sure he's incredibly bored here. It.... it makes me mad just thinking about it."

Laguna raised an eyebrow and saw from the corner of his eye Kiros contemplating the same thing. Ellone twisted around in her seat by the sounds of it and asked, "Yoo don't like him?" She sounded on the verge of crying.

"That's not what I said, Elle," she responded softly. The steps were coming closer. "I feel the same as you do. It's up to him, though, I'd really love for--"

Both men were surprised at the sudden stop of voice and feet, and when they looked up they saw her peering down at them. Laguna shot straight up and went up the stairs acting as if he had been running the entire time.

Ellone brought the most happiest expression he had ever seen, and she jumped off the couch. "Yea! You're back!"

Kiros followed Laguna's lead, as the machine gun-wielder huffed and wheezed falsely, "I.. came back... just.. in time.. with my report."

Raine did not cross her arms over her chest, but her look was one of bemused slyness. She was secretly having a kick out of Laguna's bumbling state. Ellone clapped her hands some more.

Laguna breathed deeply to garner the mood and then stood straight up with his arms clasped behind his back. "I've come to report of the day's first patrol. Ahem. Including Buchubuchus and the nefarious Bunbuns that Assistant Commander Ellone oh so hates..."

Ellone scrunched her nose up at the thought of the nefarious Bunbuns, and Kiros fought hard to hide his what-the-fuck moment. Laguna continued, addressing Raine proudly, "I exterminated a nest of monsters by the temple, containing some twenty of them there, and another one by the Chocobo farms with about five or so there."

Even if she knew the numbers were a bit exaggerated, she smiled big anyway. Perhaps it was about something else. "Good, that's more than usually get done, Monster Hunter."

"It was nothing," Laguna said. He wondered if the faeries could speak or not, or just harm him through actions. If it wasn't for them, he would've had a tougher time. "I had Kiros here to help me out in my quest."

Kiros bowed in the affirmative.

"I closed up the shop for the day. The liquor supply was short today, so the townies here will just have to suffer for one day."

"Too bad, huh?" Laguna said.

"Yes," she chuckled. "You all must be hungry. I didn't expect you two back so soon, though. Go get some rest, and I'll call you when the food is ready, ok?"

Laguna and Kiros nodded and headed down the stairs, Ellone clapping some more in joy.

They left the pub, and Laguna ignored the continuous burst of laughter that now erupted from Kiros. He had taken his daggers off, and he clapped an open hand on the elder fighter's shoulder. "You're a good sport, you know that."

Laguna reached for the handle of Ellone's former house. "I try to be."

"That's probably why she respects you."

"Not as much as I do her."

They walked in, and the joyous atmosphere was sucked out once again. Kiros, this time, had to suppress his disgust. The gloomy bullet-ridden walls finally sunk into him what the Galbadians relented to. He knew without a doubt that this would seal an already signed contractual agreement. Like Laguna earlier, he felt the vision of a merciless slaughter. He had no words to express himself, and he knew Laguna would not mind the silence. They trudged past the lonely dining room and hauled themselves up the stairs.

"There's a guest bedroom down there. A lot more peaceful in that room, trust me."

"I do. Are..." He turned with a serious look to his friend. "Are you okay, man?"

"I am, why do you keep asking me that?"

"A lot has happened. And, even if you diss me or not--"

"I'd never diss you."

"Yes, I know. But you have changed man."

Laguna looked at the floor.

"You're in love, man. And not just with the obvious, I know. You love that little girl, as if she were your own. And, despite the inhabitants here, you love this town. I can see that."

Laguna sighed. "I do." He sighed more heavily, causing him to quake where he stood. "What is up with me?"

"Laguna," Kiros said, his hand on his shoulder, "everything is going to be alright."

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"I have these dreams."

"We all have dreams."

"No. Faeries aside, I... I go to sleep, and I... feel like I'm somewhere else. Somewhere that's entirely different, like I'm living the life of someone else. A frantic life that's complex in so many ways that I just cannot explain right now."

Kiros sighed heavily, and it seemed to Laguna that he understood him. "I know what you mean, Laguna. That has happened to me, too."

"Does it scare you?"

"There are tons of things in this life that scare me, but... I have to face them."

"Do you think we'll ever know what it is?"

"Does it matter?"

"For me? Yes."

Kiros nodded. "Get some rest. I'm getting kinda hungry myself."

Laguna nodded and went to his room. He viewed the bed and realized the nightmare would come again. The faeries were gone, and it was just him in that room alone. Maybe it was the nightmarish house he was currently dwelling in giving him these moments.

But Kiros got it too?

_What the hell is wrong with me? PLEASE! Let this be the room I wake up in tonight._

_Please....._

* * *


	12. Pain

**Warning, Warning!!!** Extreme M-rated chapter. Tortue, excessive violence, and implied references. Those who are easily offended by that should avoid this particular chapter. Otherwise, feel free to read on. This section of the story was by the far the fastest to write. Hopefully. that's a good artistic way of looking at things ;)

**Error Correction (22AUG2009)**:_ I cannot believe I did this, but at least it was consistent. I accidentally called the fiery red-orange lion-like animals that worked in the D-District Prison as basically prison bitches "Moogles". They are in fact "Moombas". I apologize for this mistake that was roughly about thirty times throughout this chapter. Interesting, huh?_

_A failed mission._

_Alas, is there much to say?_

_Let the pain begin......_

The sky was dark at this part of the world. Of course, it was only three o clock in the morning, but the _idea_ of this region was the dark part. When light shone, the sun was the commanding force bearing down a pain like no other. Clouds were afraid to scrape across the sky above this Dingo Desert. Sand was all that covered the earth, as well as crackled and dirty plateaus that had never seen a drop of rain-- unless Pandemona the Guardian Force of wind and water allowed that to happen, which rarely happened.

Cacti were the sole plant life in the desert, but there was something ominous about them. They had minds of their own and could uplift themselves from the sandy earth and walk limply across the land when they were hungry for water. The Chuplukka Lagoon fared just to the southwest of the desert, which was a remarkable feature of the Galbadian landscape. These little cacti would trot across the earth and then submerge themselves in the lagoon, sifting the liquid through their tough green hides before venturing back to their nests and rooting themselves once again. Why? No simple answer. The Dingo Desert was a horrible place.

As the clock struck four, an eddy in the sand whirled around and around near a clump of cacti who were oblivious to it. A small hooked eye, dripping with yellow pus, poked out of the sand eddy. Heaving with a great sigh, the owner of the pus eye arose from its sandy bed. A great deformed dragon that looked like a corpse of some of the truly magnificent northern dragons. Small compared to them, it was a giant of the desert, but the cacti couldn't care less. The zombie dragon ate sand for the most part; although, a careless wanderer hiking from Kelso to Timber was a great treat to the horrific creature. Wherever this dragon zombie went it cast a trail of ooze undescribable in color or substance that stunk and burned the desert raw. The creature's bony, aching body mass heaved and sighed as it wandered in a wayward path to some place that it did not know of nor cared about in the slightest.

The Dingo Desert was a horrible place.

Take for example, the three-pronged metallic structure located dead in the center of it: the Desert-District Prison No. Five. The previous four had been destroyed. The first from a massive prison riot that ended up burning it to the ground. The second and third fell apart in mid-construction due to poor materials and wasteful government spending. The fourth had been the pride of the government, an absolute splendor to behold, until the Sorceress War with Esthar. The attacks were magnificent in size. A Estharian rocket booster had scorched across the land and blew the top off the prison in one fell swoop. Both connectors severed, and the entire structure plummeted killing all four thousand inmates inside. No remorse was given, for former President Vinzer Deling had usurped taxpayer's money and built the fifth prison-- the current one.

And this time, the structure stayed. A vaulting thirteen-story albatross of molten steel and adamantine plus the sinews of ancient Sorceress magic imbuing the levelled connectors and support beams. Unlike its predecessors, No. Five contained a malicious anti-magicka field. Prison riots had occurred in both No. One and No. Four that threatened the safety of the police squads. Now, though, all weapons blunt and imbued were confiscated and eventually pawned off to the black market-- or virtually destroyed. The police squads, though, were armed with special one-use-only Hyne bangles that could deliver a special kinetic energy similar to a stun grenade but lethal in magnitude. One thrust of the orb would obliterate the lives of a dozen inmates if a swarm occurred. Of course, you couldn't trust the police with it; the government turned the other cheek on police brutality.

At first, a passersby would think there wasn't an entrance. Highly camoflauged, of course. Near the base of the northernmost tower of the three, a small yellow set of double-doors sat in a hidden alcove with nine sniper boxes located around and a full brigade of robotic troops guarding it. The police force consisted even-handedly of human and robotic personnel, and both acted interchangeably. There were also captured Moombas, fiery red-orange animals used as brutalized serfs to clean up the bloody messes of a deceased inmate or to administer poisoned or rotting food to the surviving ones. The turnover rate of prison inmates was high, and every inmate was convicted for a life sentence.

Why? No such reason exists. Everything from a simple parking ticket to a rape to a mass murder to a plotted assassination got the same sentence: life. Once in, you waited til you died. Immediate by riot or police, or drawn-out by raw prison sex or police tortue. Everything and everyone under the sun was fair game in Desert-District Five.

Through the yellow entrance you entered the godawful lobby. Blank white with a gray floor covered in stained blood and the grease from someone's battered face. Work your way carefully over the mess and to the crane. All three towers worked the same way, and the other two were connected by walkways: the northern vault connected to the southwestern on the second floor, the southwestern connected to the southeastern on the fifth, and all three connected at the top to form a central hub that was the tortuing center and the helipad. The helipad was a group of robotic aerial monsters that only had enough energy to carry government agents from the prison to the outpost of Watchman's Kneed and back. All three vaults were the same in design. Thirteen floors each, housing fifty rooms on each floor. At the most, almost two thousand rooms were available. To be precise, a police squad could fit a dozen people in one room. To be on the safe side ( we are concerned about health issues, right?), six people in one room was normal. So, roughly twelve thousand people could inhabit the prison-- a monumetal number for the Galbadian government.

The Dingo Desert and, alas, the D-District Prison were horrible places in this part of the wonderful earth.

* * *

He slapped himself in the forehead, which incidentally awoke him from his horrid, wretched dream. He winced stupidly at his own movement and then rubbed the slowly ebbing buzzing sound out from his temples. Zell Dincht had been having the most peculiar dream, and he couldn't understand why it seemed he had been mopping up floors. He could feel the tingle of the mop stick in his hands, deep in his palms. The heavy weight would swing back and forth in a lazy, heartless motion as he cleaned up.... wait, what was he cleaning up? He fought hard to remember, and then suddenly he smelled again that horrible smell. Blood. Yes, that was it, blood. In that horrible dream, in that horrible place, he had been mopping up blood. Pools of it, sweet Eden, it was everywhere. All over the walls, all splattered across that fucking crane.

Yet, there was something strange about the experience. He couldn't hardly make any sounds at all. Grunts came, he remembered, but there were plenty of times when he wanted to cry out in exhaustion from all the laborious work. All that tedious, mindless, painfully-numbing bullshit. He remembered one day-- oh, his dream had seemed to span several days, maybe weeks-- he went into the first floor bathroom to clean up a decapitated policeman who had unwittingly matched punches with a 7'0" rapist and gotten the short end of the stick. It took a while to get the stains out of that shitter, he remembered. Then, he went to wash his hands and have a clean shave in the mirror. He couldn't be sure, but... wait... that bandana.... that scowly jaw muscle.... that... sickly scar on the throat....

"WARD!!!!"

He shot straight up and clanked his face hard on the metal bars of the steel cage wrapped around him. A sharp vibration poured his entire body, and he knew there would be a bruise there after a while. He was surprised at the sound of his voice, for he hadn't seemed to have heard that in quite a while.

"Goodness, Zell," a familiar feminine voice called out, worried, "are you alright?"

Whether the clank against the steel cage did it or not, Zell's vision seemed blurry at the start. It was dark, though, and he couldn't make out the ambience of the room too much. That voice seemed awfully familiar.

"Zell, can you hear me!"

Where was that coming from?

"Zell, you dingbat, it's me, Quistis!"

He found her. She was beside him in a cage herself. He could tell his eyes were growing accustomed to the darkness, for her small frame was coming into view. "Of course it's you, Instructor, I knew that."

"Sure you did, Zelly," Selphie spoke up. Her voice seemed hollow and raspy, but her usual chirpiness was faintly coming in.

"Selphie, you're here, too!" he exclaimed, finding hope that he wasn't the only one stuck in the rut.

"So is Rinoa. She's to the right of me."

"You alright, Zell," the familiar voice of the raven-haired princess spoke up, "you've been asleep for a while."

Zell rubbed his head. All three of the girls were now visible in the night vision. They were all sitting with their arms clasped tightly around their legs, and he could slightly make out worried expressions on their faces. He grew ecstatic at first, but then he noticed two of the group were still missing. Only four of the six steel cages were full. "Yeah, I'm alright. Must've been out of it for a while."

"Was it the dream world, Zell?" Quistis asked, grasping a metal bar with one hand. "You said something about Ward."

"Yeah. Boy, that was a weird experience."

Selphie made a noise in her cage that rocked the contraption a bit. "Is Sir Laguna okay?"

"_Sir_ Laguna?"

"Yeah, I think he looks so cute. A perfect candidate for a Knight in shining armor."

"Uh.... well, I don't know about that, but no I didn't see him. It was just Ward in this dream."

"Just Ward?"

"Yeah, I don't know where Laguna and Kiros were."

Quistis leaned forward, drawing her forehead against the cold metal bars. "What is this we're experiencing?"

"A strange phenomenon."

"Duh, Zell. I was being serious."

"I dunno." He forced himself to a stand; the crouched position he had been laying in had atrophied his limbs slightly. Unfortunately, when he went to stand he hit his head again on the low ceiling bar of the cage and gave a shrill little yelp and sat back down.

"Uh.. yeah," Quistis said through a held-back laugh, "the cages are a little cramped."

"Dammit all! I've forgotten that."

"Yeah, I bruised my head, too, earlier," Selphie said.

"Damn. We need to get out of here."

"Like how?"

"I dunno."

"Zell, that's not going to help us out here," Quistis said bluntly, as always.

"Well, then, how did we get here?"

"Hoo boy, I can't remember," Selphie sighed sadly. Her chirpiness had morphed into a perplexed worrisome state.

"Whatdya mean?"

"We've been in here for a while," Quistis said. "Ever since the botched assassination attempt."

"So they threw us in here, huh? I guess that's suitable on their terms. We need to get out of here, now!"

"There's an anti-magic field here. You know how to bend steel with your hands, Zell?"

"No, _Combat King_ didn't say anything about that."

"Ahem." All three of them turned to Rinoa's cage. They could make out what looked like a bored expression on her face, mixed with animosity. "There might be an easy solution."

"What?" Zell demanded.

"This 'dream world' you all... partake in. You just said you were Ward, right?"

"Just now I was, yes."

"Do you see what he sees?"

"Yes, unfortunately. I was mopping up floors and doing janitorial things in some compound thing."

"Some compound thing? Does this place look familiar to you?"

_Of all the stupid things,_ he thought to himself. He supported himself on one metal bar and looked around, following her advice. Hey, she was pretty and all, but she sometimes was a pain in the ass. What would possibly give her the--- _Wait a minute. Is this?_ He jumped up and hit his head again on the bar.

All three girls looked at his shape with puzzlement, but the tattooed teen was ecstatic. "Hey! This is the place where Ward worked at! Geez, it's a prison. _The_ prison! Galbadia's D-District Prison, I'm sure of it."

"It is," Rinoa said, displeased. "I was waiting for you all to guess it."

"Damn," Zell cursed sadly. "Nobody's ever escaped from here."

"My thoughts exactly. But we attacked the Sorceress, and this is how it's gonna be. Anybody who commits a crime in the Galbadian--er, I guess Westonian-- government gets thrown in here. For life sentences. This is the place where Ward probably worked at, I'm sure."

"Is there anyway we can possibly get out of here?" Selphie asked, desperately. The tight conditions of the cage she was trapped in was giving her some claustrophobia.

"I have no idea," Rinoa said depressingly.

"They had swarmed the tower," Quistis said, "as soon as the shot rang out. Man, did you see all the people fighting down there?"

"Oh my god," Selphie squealed, "it was horrible! Everybody was trampling over each other and beating each other and--!"

Lights flashed on in the room, blinding all four of them. A loud static sound ripped through the walls, and then the room was plunged again in darkness. An intercom buzzed up on the ceiling and shouted, "Prisoners in Room 1a6b! Shut your fucking mouths!!"

The intercom's racket rang against the hollow walls, and all four of the group's vision was confounded by a halo of purple light that diminished very slowly. They stayed silent for a long time, waiting for the effects to die down.

Zell spoke in a whisper, "They're worse than the Guardians on eavsdropping."

"It's so hollow here," Quistis whispered. "You can practically hear every sound three or four floors up or down. Plus, you can hear people getting... tortued up on the very top floor. Ugh, it's so revolting."

"Tortued?" Selphie gulped.

"You didn't hear all that racket a long while ago.?"

"I dunno what I've been hearing," she answered, frightened now.

"Squall.... and Irvine," Rinoa whispered. Her voice was frantically concerned.

"Where are they?" Zell asked.

"Irvine was shot off the float by Edea, but Squall....." her voice trailed off.

"What?"

"I dunno."

Zell gulped. He remembered now that horrible night. Thinking back now hard, he recalled the Galbadian swarm surrounding the tower and immediately ascending it. Quistis had only just gotten herself away from the control box when the first trooper got up to their level. He remembered planting a fatal blow to the guy's jaw, but a rifle butt had slammed down on the back of his neck. He had blacked out for a few seconds, and when he awoke they had him cuffs and dragged down the stairs. The girls were in the same predicament, with Selphie having a blackened eye as well. He remembered being dragged by the demolished float and seeing Edea's cold-hearted stare. The Deling Guard had Rinoa in a vice grip, and she was crying out hysterically at Squall, although Zell couldn't see him at all. Irvine was nowhere to be found, either. Seifer was there, though, that incredulous bastard. His face was bloodied up considerably, and his nose looked broken. He was standing there on the float gazing down at someone with a malicious grin on his face.

That someone he was gazing at was hauled up, and Zell had gotten a good look at his face. It was Squall, his face even more bloodied up. Three large shards of ice were embedded in his body, and the guards handling him looked like they were playing with a rag doll. The Squad Leader wasn't moving at all, and he wasn't making a sound.

Before Zell could cry out himself, his captor grabbed his head and thrust him into the back of a dark vehicle, and the next thing he knew he was here... in the worst place in the world.

_Squall...._ How could it end like that? _And where the fuck is that Irvine prick?_

* * *

In the center of each of the three towers stood a large crane that transported people up and down the thirteen sets of floors. The desert offered a nifty way of transportation. Sand was used as a pulley-and-lever mechanism; gears signalled how much sand could be loosened or waxed to apply or loosen pressure on the crane to make it ascend or descend. That way, the electrical bill would be cut. Only three hours of electricity a day was used to fill the nearly two-thousand room structure, and having sand do the majority of the work was a prized convention.

The infirmary was situated in the southeastern tower on the bottom floor. Anybody who was injured would normally be brought here, unless the guards forgot-- which was quite frequent. The downside was that most of the equipment was not properly sanitized, and flies were a common sight to behold. Fresh or dated blood lined all of the floors, and workman janitors were not very common in the tower. The Moombas were mostly responsible for that debacle, but after the infamous Moomba riot nine years ago, the constables had them on a tight leash. So, the infirmary eventually resembled more of a pigsty than a health clinic.

It had been a month since the day known as Black Friday: the attempted assassination of Sorceress Edea. The man responsible for leading the group in charge of that death assignment was still in the infirmary at the moment, and Edea's Knight was getting impatient. The clinic's doors snapped open, and the medical Moombas frantically got out of the way of the sneering head guard. He eyed the unconcious SeeD in front of him with a despicable gleam. Being at this job so long away from his wife and children had corrupted him infinitely-- it had been roughly fourteen months straight on-the-job, and he wasn't set to return for another two more months. He had grown tired with handling some of the rapist prisoners on Tower Two, and he found the presence of the Leonhart kid to be something of a joyous occurrence. He wasn't religious, and he thought the Guardian Forces were a simpleton's wet dream; however, he had to secretly thank High God Eden for bestowing him a fresh, young piece of meat.

Squall Leonhart was shirtless and clothed only in a loincloth. The three stab wounds were visible but mere blackened bruises now. The witch had catapulted those ice blades straight into his left shoulder cap, his right breast muscle, and into his stomach. The wounds had cauterized so quickly, despite being sub-zero temperature, that no blood had appeared at all. His body had gone through a tremendous shock, and he had only woken up twice in the month period. A vital screen next to him with IV needles plugged in his skin was reading a steady beat, though. He was alive, but barely. The Sorceress had realized her mistake the moment she released the spell, and she had ordered the prison to keep this one alive. The head guard, though, wasn't really concerned about that. This young man's body was a splendid sight to see. The young SeeD must have spent a lot of time training at his facility, for the chest and ab muscles were well-chiseled as were his biceps and triceps. He liked a well-chiseled young man every once in a while, although he preferred more older men who were... experienced in the art. The most fascinating thing he thought as well was the griffin tattoo on the young SeeD's left breast. A sort of Lionheart thing, it looked pretty sexy.

He could feel it growing in his pants, even though he wasn't exactly happy about the length-- or its width. He could see the Moombas getting all mad at his lecherous intentions, but they were small maggot fry, and he could easily kill them without even lifting a finger. He felt his small bulge up and walked over to the unconcious Squall. He remembered this man had come with another young one as well as three girls. The girls were stupid-looking giddy dimwits, a bunch of young fuck-loving cunts he imagined. He grimaced at the thought of this fine young specimen before him having a good old time fucking those twats. That other young boy with that... that hideous tattoo on his face. What the fuck was that all about? He shrugged that image out of his head, for it was softening his mood.

He went to Squall's head and lightly touched his brow with a gentle finger. Strong brow muscles, he found. With the finger lightly, he traced a snaking pattern around the infamous scar, across his lips, and down his neck. He was unaware of the clinic door opening behind him. The beauty of this man was magnificent. He had never called another man beautiful before, but he relished the thought now.

A great pain smacked his face, and he felt himself thrown back violently against the wall. Stars and reddish-green halos warped his vision, and he tried to blink several times to get it to go away. Then, he felt his shirt collar being tugged and then Seifer Almasy's face came into view. He gulped, for the Knight looked extremely pissed.

"Having a gay old time?" Seifer glared.

"My-my-my-my-my Lord, heh, I-i-I-I-I wasn't g-g-g-"

Seifer threw him against the wall again and shouted, "I know what you were going to do. I don't care if you do that to Chickenwuss, but this fucker is the most important speciment in this compound! Do you understand that?"

"Y-Yes, sir, I do!"

Seifer glared again, his brow furling with hatred. His right hand held the nasty Hyperion stained with dried blood that the wielder had forgotten to clean off. His left hand was held in a tight fist. He was still wearing the noted trenchcoat with the blood-red crosses on the sleeves, although he had changed underneath to a dark green vest with a silver cross stretching down on it. "Is he healthy enough to go up top?"

_Up top?_ the head guard thought, horrified. "Wait, my Lord. Y-You're not sending him u-up there?"

"You think I want you to fuck him instead?"

"N-No, b-"

"Edea demands some knowledge. And this guy knows it. There's only one thing left to do."

"Sh-Shit."

Seifer kicked his groin. "Calm your erection down, and get this fucker semi-awake." He indicated the three scared Moombas. "Get those reddies to do something except masturbate over there, too! Do I have to lead you by the hand on every motherfucking thing!"

"N-No, my Lord. I'm getting right on it!"

"Then hurry up." He watched the head guard stumble to his feet, ignoring his wounds, and hobble over to a medical panel. The Moombas went and disconnected the IV needles in Squall's arms and then applied wet tissues to his damp scalp. The head guard brought out a long tube filled with orange liquid that bubbled in the inside. He rubbed Squall's left bicep with a numbing patch and then plunged the needle in. Squall's eyes immediately shot open, and he let out a massive groan that shocked the Moombas. Seifer hit a nearby table and forced the Moombas to continue their work. Squall grunted profusely as if he was being eaten alive. The head guard held Squall down until all the orange liquid was in Squall's veins. The Moombas forced a couple of purple pills down Squall's throat, and then the gunblader was breathing normally again.

He couldn't see, however, well enough to find who was in the room with him. The groans he had made seemed awkward to his ears, and he was fighting hard to recollect what had happened and where the fuck he was. He heard a weird, warbly voice, "_You fucking reddies! Get this prick into the crane!_" It sounded so familiar and despicable. He couldn't trace too long, though, for the thing he was sitting on was moving now. He could see bright wavy orbs of light above him move to the south of his vision. Then something like a door opened up, and darkness got the better half of his vision. Then, he felt lifted up, and more darkness came. Then he was set down, and another door closed. Then, nothing.

Finally, his vision subsided from a murky haze, and he was able to see the small box he was confined in. He looked around, to the side, and down below. He was extremely puzzled to find himself half-naked on a cot with nothing but a smelly toilet in the back corner. He forced himself to a sitting position and saw indeed that the toilet was full. He swung his legs over to the side of the cot, and he found also that it was only him in the room. His head ached thoroughly, but when he glanced down to his chest, he was amazed to be alive. The blackened wounds looked horrible.

_Jeezum Crow! That damn witch got me good._ He suddenly remembered the sheer shock of the blow. It was three separate entry points but one fucking magnificent knock-back. The only thing he remembered after that was Rinoa's rapidly waning voice and the sight of her pretty green eyes. Nothing else came after that, but he remembered before. He remembered the Sorceress's murder of Deling, the frantic wafts of the crowd, the botched hit job, and...

He shot his eyes forward. _Seifer!_ That bastard had been there, and what did he call himself? _A Knight?_ _What the fuck is he calling himself that for?_ He hadn't heard that term since the infamous Sorceress War two decades ago.

He touched his chest and winced at the soreness. He found it even more strangely empty for not only were his dogtags missing, but his most prized possession: Griever, the griffin necklace. He bent his head quickly to see if it would magically appear, and he was disappointed when that miracle didn't come about. Then, he remembered another nasty thing.

_My gunblade._ He remembered Seifer melting it into thin air like a puff of flame. Then, or before, or during, they had brawled pretty messily. He touched his face and recoiled at the soreness and pain.

"Damn you, Seifer!!" he shouted suddenly, rising clumsily to his feet. The nausea was too much, and he fell to his knees.

The crane, though, was starting. Sand poured into the filters and applied massive pressure to the levies. The cargo hold spun in a slow circle, and then more sand seeped out the top and bottom. A green light appeared on the side, and the crane shot steadily up to the top of the tower. The thirteenth floor stopped its hike, and the doors snapped open.

The sudden light hurt his eyes a bit, and he looked away to the receding darkness on the wall to protect his vision. A familiar cold laugh snaked into his ears. "Squall, what a pity. You're always so open to confrontation all the time."

He could see his tall shadow against the lightened wall, and Squall knew something bad was happening. He grimaced to his feet, aware that he was only in a loincloth and aware that the air had gotten bitterly cold.

Seifer chuckled slyly and slowly walked inside the cargo hold. His opponent was in a drunken state and easily vulnerable, although he personally didn't like easy targets. He clamped his hand hard on Squall's wounded left shoulder causing him to grimace from the pain. "Squall, you are pitiful, you know that." He whirled him around and stared at the steel-cold blue eyes. "You, the Leader, only in a loincloth," he smirked. Quickly, he snatched the back of Squall's head and flung him against the wall.

The impact opened up a fresh cut on his chin, and Squall gritted his teeth. The inertia of fighting him back hit him hard, but he had no sword, no magic, and no clothes. He sighed hopelessly. Then, he panicked with his eyes wide open.

Seifer's gunblade had click-clicked to a live load, and he had it aimed at the back of Squall's head. "This is all too easy now, isn't it."

Squall dared not to move. He saw the shadow on the wall, and he felt the cold touch of Hyperion on the back of his scalp. _Why, Seifer, why?_ The force of the shotgun shell would explode his head like a fucking smashed pumpkin.

The gunblade made a noise, when he pulled the trigger. The dud shell casing expelled from the chamber and landed loudly on the floor. Seifer slowly sheathed the blade. "All too easy."

Squall's heart raced furiously. Never before had he thought of death so imminently close.

Seifer looked at the half-naked battered man and whistled for the Moombas. He left the hold, and the three reddies came in and set Squall back on the cot and rolled him out of the cargo hold. The bright light hurt him for a moment, but he grew accustomed quickly. The place was a massive prison, and he wondered if it was the D-District. If it was, he figured, things were about to get rough. The Moombas pushed him up a steep incline, and he saw the light of the rising sun from a window slit in the wall. He wanted badly to see the rising Sun.

A door opened, and as he craned his neck up he saw the new room looked monstrous indeed. A weird electrical machine was humming.

The rolling cot stopped, and the Moombas helped him off and set him in a cold chair. The head rest and bottom were ice cold on his battered back and ass. Someone pressed a button, and the armrests locked his wrists against the chair, and a tight belt looped around his chest locking his movement in place. The air was considerably cold, and he couldn't stop shaking. His teeth went into overdrive against each other, and goosebumps splattered his skin. He felt his testicles shrinking, and the hair on his skin stood rigidly on end.

The room was dark at first, save the orange glow emanating from the electrical machine. Then, a harsh spotlight opened right above him. It adjusted briefly to shine just above his face, which caused his eyes to water. He jerked his head this way and that, but he could not avert from it.

Then, it pulled back, and halos appeared again in his vision. But someone was in front of him. He blinked furiously and finally found Seifer with a malicious grin plastered on his face. Hyperion was on his hip, but he was holding a sharp baton-like object in his hands. He said nothing for a long while.

Squall was aware of two other guards around the room. With the light pulled back aways, he saw the horrible sight of the tortue chamber: smeared blood on the walls, a human head impaled on a spike in the corner, scratch marks from human nails, sharp knives and blades, and the bloodied electrical machine itself. The table he sat at was smeared in dried blood, and the chair he sat on and felt was covered in it as well. He figured he was probably infected with diseases now.

"You're going to kill me, right?"

Seifer's grin turned to puzzlement. "Why would I do that?"

"I'm cold, I'm beaten, and I'm infected. Sooner or later, a slow death will consume me. This is so unlike you, Seifer. What the fuck are you doing?"

A guard came to his side suddenly and smashed his fist straight across the top of Squall's spine. All of his nerves whiplashed from the effect.

"Squall!" Seifer said calmly. "You are talking too much."

"The fuck are you saying!"

"That you... are talking too much. It is quite simple if you think about it."

"Goddammit Seifer, this is ridiculous. You had your fun, now cut the shit!" He gripped the armrests fiercely, tugging feverishly at the strong clasps holding his limbs down.

Seifer snorted and looked at his two helpers, who started snickering to themselves. He twirled the baton in his hand lazily and made a little whistling song. "He says I've had my fun, huh?"

"You've only just started, right boss?" wheezed one of the helpers to Squall's left.

"Started? Shit, I haven't started yet. I am actually quite bored right now." He stopped twirling the baton and then smelled and licked the sharp end of the weapon. It tasted perfect for the task it was about to do.

The coldness of the room wore profusely against Squall's chest, and his breathing was riveted and stricken. His vision seemed to be getting blurry again, for the guard's previous blow had dealt a great deal of damage to his vitality.

"Where the fuck is that Moomba?" Seifer demanded suddenly.

"Strokin himself probably, my Lord," the second helper snorted. He reached somewhere behind Squall and booted forward the fiery red-orange creature, who looked too timid to respond.

"Fucking reddie," Seifer snorted. "Alright, Squall." He set the baton loosely on the table and looked at his rival. The table was short, and both men were only a couple feet apart from each other. "I've got some questions for you."

One of the helpers brought a tray of nasty-looking utensils resting on it. He set the tray on a small pedestal that lay near Seifer's knee.

"Squall," Seifer smiled pleasingly, "this is a grand opportunity for knowledge right now. A remarkable time to observe and report just what exactly you... have within that brain of yours."

"What are you talking about?" Squall asked, a slight nervousness toning his voice.

"A remarkable time." He picked up a thin gray needle and examined it astutely. "What is SeeD?"

Squall blinked. _What is SeeD? What kind of a question is that?_ He stared at the man and said nothing.

Seifer put the needle down. "Gee. That was almost what I was expecting." He motioned for both the aides to come, and they each pinned Squall back against the chair. Squall's eye went wide, and a quick adrenaline rushed through his body. Their grip was tight, and he couldn't make any limited movement. Seifer regarded him first before plunging the needle softly between his fingernail on his right middle finger.

The needle went straight through the nail cap and burst it open. A horrifying pain jolted him, and he screamed out loud. So violent and quick was the affliction, for Seifer immediately pulled it out and watched the nail cap splinter in two pieces and the blood rush out in wafting streams all along his finger. The aides held him back, and all he could do was limply wave his right hand on the arm chair knocking the blood all over the floor and the table. He screamed out loud and gritted his teeth. Squall gradually focused his mind and breathed in heavy spurts, until the numbness had consumed his torn finger and he was able to look at the solemn face of Seifer Almasy.

Seifer held the bloody needle up to his nose and sniffed it. Scrunching up his nose, he merely flicked the larger amounts of goo and flesh off of it and brought it back down to the table. "What is SeeD?"

"Seifer.... don't be a maniac, now," Squall wheezed. His whole right hand was numb on the nerves, and his breathing was incredibly raspy.

"SeeD is maniacal, yes you are right about that." He plucked the soiled needle straight under Squall's left middle fingernail, issuing the same result.

"Fuck me!" Squall winced out before screaming again, louder. The aides had a tougher time holding him back, allowing his left finger to split open more than the right one did.

"Now, Squall, I'd never do that," Seifer replied, still as calmly as ever. "There are _plenty_ of stool-pushers here who would love to sink their teeth into you. Now, I am getting a little tired. So, I ask again. What is SeeD?"

"You know.... w-what SeeD is!"

"How? I'm not a SeeD. I was never a SeeD!" He flung the bloody needle to the floor and then branded a small pocketknife. The blade was corroded, and bits of dried up unidentifiable pieces hung on the serrated edges.

Squall forgot about his two bloody fingers momentarily and kept a steady eye on the soiled knife. "Y-Y-You took three examinations. You went to all the classes. You don't--"

"Of course, I don't." He had risen, walked a step, and then sat on the table right directly in front of Squall. "Balamb Garden was a miserable place to be, although I do have fond memories of the school. The Guardians were a shitter unlike any you've ever smelled before, my longtime friend." Without word, he plunged the dirty knife straight into Squall's resting right hand. The blade protruded through the cloth of the arm rest and pinned Squall's hand tight. Blood spurted in a nasty arc and coated his trenchcoat. Squall could feel his hand be soiled immensely, and his breathing became quite difficult. Weird pockmarks affected his vision, and his hearing ceased to be normal.

Seifer looked at him slyly and twisted the blade in a ninty-degree turn, ripping open Squall's veins, tendons, and bones. The SeeD gave a ghastly sound from his diaphragm and slumped from the aide's grip. Nausea overtook him, and he threw up on his chest.

"Oh, that's very tasty-looking right there," Seifer snorted, and the two aides backed away immediately. The Hyperion-wielder brought a purple gel-like orb, the famous Cura orb, and slapped it on Squall's chest. The bloodied man cried out in a gasp as steam erupted from his body and his wounds cauterized and stitched together. The tremendous heat broke the shackles binding him, and he fell limply out of the chair and to the floor.

Seifer kicked the Moomba in the chest. "What the fuck do they pay you around here for? Administer him a vial!"

The poor reddie gasped in its incomprehensible dialogue and quickly plunged a soothing needle in Squall's chest. A liquid was flung into his bloodstream, and he felt himself getting hot inside. Sweat started to pour from his skin, and he realized it was an adrenaline rush and a nerve-number. More pain was to come.

A hand wrenched on the back of his hair, and Seifer snapped at him. "What is SeeD, you dolt!"

"If there was anything to tell, anything at all, do you think I'd possibly tell _you_ any of it!"

Seifer looked at the exacerbated Leonhart inquisitively for a moment. "Playing hard to get as always, aren't you?"

"What does being a so-called Knight of the Sorceress mean, Seifer? That you have to be a tortuer?"

"Edea demands answers to questions that she seeks. You are the most responsible member of the assassination squad that occurred exactly one month ago."

"A.... month ago."

"Yes, Squall, you've been outta things for quite a long while." He went back to the table and got the sharpened baton. He examined it more closely to see if the edge was sharp enough. "The others are here too, except for that goddamn cowboy fucker. We couldn't get to him in time."

_What?_ "Th-They're all here?"

"That's right, Squall. The Instructor, the little messenger girl, unfortunately my wonderful little princess, and that fucking Chickenwuss." He looked at the stricken Squad Leader with an especially wicked gleam. "Did you like beating my face up back there at the float? Your fists are even deadlier than your gunblade."

Squall blinked twice and noticed Seifer's face. A scarred stitching lay on his nose and brow as well as down the right side of his face. To his disadvantage, he smiled big at the sight. That's when the baton came down.

The sharp end of the stick sliced open his chest, but this was no ordinary baton. An electrical magical pulse was spiralling inside the blunt cudgel, and the bloody rip shoved Squall's body hard against the floor, driving his back smearing on the floor. He felt the skin on his back rip open against the hard metal and dirty floor. The wind was knocked out of him, and he coughed up blood. Seifer walked forward and struck the floor with the baton. A great shockwave ripped underneath Squall and elevated him, as well as enveloping his body with a great electrical shock. More bits of flesh ripped off and painted the floor apricot and blood-red. Squall landed on his face and broke his nose. Seifer then discharged the magic, flipped to the blunt end, and then beat Squall repeatedly across his torn back. He opened the wounds and flung blood everywhere. So massive and angry were his thrusts that Squall could not scream or do anything to react to them. He lay there, pulsing and jumping from the dozens of hits and blows the deranged fellow gunblader waylaid on him. The aides and the Moomba retreated to the wall to dodge the hail of blood spurts. Seifer's trenchcoat was drenched.

Finally, Almasy was tired, and Squall was red all over. The inside of his eyeball was dripping blood, and the sounds he made were croaks and wheezes. The Moomba rushed to his aid, but Seifer swung the baton in an arc and slashed the poor creature's arm off, flinging the reddie in a spiralling arc against the wall, knocking it out cold. A great howl of laughter emitted out of him.

Squall could not feel any pain now; he could just see a bright white light.

Seifer stopped laughing and dropped the broken baton to the puddled floor. He breathed a sigh of exhaustion and then brought out another Cura orb and slammed it on Squall's back. The orb wasn't enough to fully cure him, but that was not at all Seifer's full intentions. A great mist of steam enveloped the air choking the aides and giving a sort of delerious high to Seifer. Squall choked to the point of asphyxiation on his blood, and Seifer helped him slightly to breathe. Most of the wounds had closed up, but the Squad Leader was still open. His eyes tried hard to focus, but he couldn't and he eventually went unconcious.

"Oh, damn Squall. I thought you were a little tougher than this." He looked at his frightened guards. "Get another fucking Moomba in here and burn that one." He looked at Squall. "Then hook this guy up to the machine. The fun's just started Squall. Don't hold up on me , yet."

* * *

Things had been silent for a long time around them, until the lights came back on again. All four of them were blinded by the intense light and were unaware at first of the door to their cell opening. Three sets of footsteps as well as a chorus of snickering were entering to meet them. Zell was unaware of his teeth gritting and his fists clenching at the sound. With his eyes slowly getting used to the surroundings of the cell and the glare from the ceiling light dissipating, he saw what looked extremely monstrous. The cages they were in were suspended above the floor and swayed with each one of their movements. Dried blood was smeared over the bars from ample times earlier of police brutality, and the floors were dirty and ill-kept. Apparantly, the janitors since Ward's time had slacked off on the job. The three girls seemed frightened and rightfully so, for he wasn't the least bit comfortable at the moment.

Their guests were three security guards where one of them, unbeknownst to Zell and the girls, had previously taken Squall Leonhart up to the tortue chamber after attempting to have his way with him. This particular head guard of the southeastern vault glared menacingly at the four of them. The blow from Seifer's fist was still evident on the man's jaw, but he had other thoughts on his mind. A perpetual scowl was always shown on his face, and he first regarded the man his boss had called Chickenwuss with a better detailed look. Previously, the lighting had been rather dull, and the only thing he could see was that hideous tattoo. He hadn't been sure what the hell it was then, and he hadn't really cared. Now, in the better light, he still didn't care and he gave a rather disgusted grunt. The thing was a stupid lightning bolt, jagged across the coifed-up blondie's left side of his face. What kind of idiot would do something like that?

He figured the Chickenwuss would be somewhat delectable in other circumstances, but he rememebered his original vows of sexuality and found the three girl captives to be somewhat delectable in their own right. The strawberry blonde in the tatthered bodysuit was... okay... but she looked a little mean, and she could probably put some hurt on him if he tried anything. The smaller bob-haired girl in the soiled orange dress had some nice knockers but not much of an ass. He frowned at that; he liked a little junk in the trunk. His eyes wavered more instead on the blue-cloaked girl in the farthest cage-- now there was a looker, nice tits, medium-sized ass, and some pretty green eyes. He almost developed a bulge right then and there; shit, his two companions were doing that.

Zell leaned forward, spinning his cage around slightly. "What the fuck are you three doing?"

The head guard rolled his eyes and sighed, "Ah, damn. We got a feisty one in Cell Block Seven." His friends grumbled to themselves.

Zell grew angry, and against the girls's best wishes, he smacked the bars of his cage with enough force to make a good break on them.

The head guard's comrades cocked their loaded assault rifles at the overzealous SeeD, but he calmed them down. "Easy, guys. This one is easily riled up. Much like their leader, I hear."

"You talkin about Squall?" Zell demanded.

The head guard snorted. "I don't know any fucking names."

"He's our Squad Leader. The one with the scar on his face."

"Oh... yeah, okay. So Squall's his name," he addressed his guards for the added comment, "I thought that's what Seifer said." Turning back to their surprised faces, he said, "Yeah, your leader has awakend twice since being here, but he's not exactly in the best of shape."

"The fuck do you mean that?"

"Wow. I didn't know he meant that much to you."

"A couple of butt-fuck buddies those two must be," wheezed one of his comrades.

"What?!" Zell shouted, sickened.

"Where is he?" Quistis demanded.

"Geez..." the head guard winced. "Not only do you look mean, girl, but your voice is nasty, too."

"I'll show you what's nasty around here."

"Hmmmmmm. Well, he's awake right now. And he's gone to a ... special place."

Rinoa widened her eyes, for she had an inkling of what that meant. Selphie demanded, "What special place?!!"

The lighting suddenly dimmed. Immediately afterwards, a horrible screeching sound echoed throughout the vault, coming from above them. Repeated screams mixed with repeated fuzzed-out warp effects of the ceiling lighting. The screaming voice sounded masculine. For a few minutes it sounded, until finally the noises ceased and the lighting returned to normal.

The head guard nodded his head slowly and then snickered. "That's what's happening to him."

All four of them grew deathly silent as each of them forced their minds not to conjure up any images of that. Unfortunately, each of them failed and all of them winced at the realization. Rinoa found tears building up at the corners of her eyes.

Zell hit the bars again, and enough force built inside him broke the cage and brought him down to the floor. The two comrades went to keep him down, but Zell's adrenaline went mad and he beat them back. The head guard, though, brought a billy club from his coat and jammed it straight into Zell's balls. The brawler's vision went white for a second, and he collapsed on his back. The head guard's comrades cursed profusely in each sentence they made, but he paid no attention. The thrill of a beatdown consumed him, and he began savagely beating Zell's stomach, ribs, and some more hits on his groin. It was after the ninth hit when the head guard heard a loud racket from Quistis's cage. The three girls had been pleading for him to stop, but Quistis's voice had finally sunk in. Zell was spitting up blood everywhere, and he looked like a raisin all blackened and bruised.

"Stop that!" Quistis yelled. "You're killing him!"

"Geez," the head guard whined, "you have to be so blunt?"

"Fuck you, you pig!" she yelled, surprising Rinoa and Selphie, "you get your fucking kicks somewhere else."

"You'd prefer me to stick this club up your cunt?"

"You don't have the guts to do that!"

Selphie covered her mouth to stifle the gasp. The head guard put on a harsh staring contest with the former instructor who held her gaze. Her cold blue eyes were enough to pierce his defenses, and he shrugged off-- annoyed as all hell. Then, something scratched at the back of his head, and he turned to the wheezing Zell. Grabbing the back of his head, he pulled half of his body off the floor. "Listen, maggot. I've got a question to ask you."

"Does... i-it refer you.. to going to Hell?"

"No. I'd never go there. Someone is waiting down at the lobby with a message. Or a delivery service. Or something. I don't really know, I wasn't paying too much attention to what he was saying."

"Then... what then?"

"Is there a Rinoa with you? A Rinoa Heartilly?"

He heard movement in a cage to his left. "I'm her." The princess addressed him as calmly as she could.

The head guard looked at her and secretly thanked whichever God came to his mind at the moment. It was the green-eyed girl! _Damn, it's a good day!_ he mused. "Well, good, then. Open up her cage."

His comrades grinned and set to work opening the cage up manually. Selphie and Quistis looked worried, while Rinoa kept a straight face going-- she figured she knew who was down there. Zell coughed and wheezed from the head guard's grasp. "What are you doing to Rinoa, you bastard?"

"I wish... a lot of things. Unfortunately, all I can do is stare." Looking at Zell's disgusted face, he laughed, "Too bad you can't do the same." He dropped Zell hard on his back and for good measure kicked his balls again.

"Stop that, please," Rinoa yelled at him, as the guards cuffed her wrists behind her back and gently lowered her down to the floor.

"At least she's kind and mannerly, right boss?" one of the comrades wheezed.

She whirled her head around and spat in his face. "Fucking asshole!"

The head guard cooed. "Everybody's feisty around here. I like that!"

"I'm sure you do," she snapped.

"Indeed, lead her out in front." He watched with pleasure as the guards propelled her sultry hips on by him. He turned to give the battered man and the two frightened women one last look-over before leaving and locking the cell door behind him.

The cuffs holding her wrists behind her cut softly into her skin, making her wince with every step she took. The head guard's comrades took note of that and snickered, however she kept her concentration as best she could. She was used to the folly of pernicious male stares by now. The head guard was strangely quiet and leaning his view upwards, no doubt thinking about something. Without being showy about it, she craned her view upward too and found the spiralling vault to be dizzy and nauseating. The look of the prison was horrific and abominable. Steel and metal had been colored blue through its production design but stained by years and years of blood and flesh, making the craftwork look grotesque and hellish. She was aware of the floor being sticky and chunky, and she averted her gaze when she happened across a severed eyeball that she inadvertently stepped on.

As they neared the crane dropoff, the lights dimmed again, and once more that horrible screaming sound occurred. _It's him!_ she yelled in her mind. Her knees buckled at the image of Squall being brutalized and electrified. Her father had told her all about the tortues this place garnered its inmates, and she felt like throwing up. The head guard hooked one arm under the small of her back and brought her back up, throwing her balance out of whack. He held her there steady and chortled to himself, along with the other two. She was vaguely aware of his hand clutching onto her ass and giving a hard squeeze. She grunted loudly, and she didn't hear his retort.

The cargo hold opened, and the three guards hauled her in. A couple of Moogles rushed in as well to administer some shock lotions to her veins. She had been cooped up in the cell for a full month, and the sudden shock of broad daylight would more than likely do her in. The liquid felt horrible soaking in her veins. The crane heaved, and sand was dispensed from the sifter. The cargo hold gently lowered down, and she was aware of the two comrades humming a horrible tune that irritated her ears. She was also aware of the lascivious glances on them and the timid expressions on the peculiar fiery red-orange creatures.

The crane landed hard on the first floor, jolting them, and the doors opened. They pushed her forward, almost knocking her to the ground, and hauled her to the lobby room. She could see through the window a familiar-looking black fedora resting on an armchair, and then she saw the messenger himself. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, as the glass lobby doors opened and she was brought inside. The messenger didn't have a smile on his face.

"Fine time to show up, Kinneas! I suppose _he_ had some strings on this." She winced suddenly as the head guard unclasped her wrists and pushed her away. She whirled on him and flicked him off, before sending a hawking loogey his way. He ducked from the aim and giggled some more before venturing back into the bloody depths of the D-District Prison.

Rinoa clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, and then she faced the cowboy.

Irvine Kinneas did not look good at all. In fact, he was downright despondent. Even when she walked fast toward him and slapped his face hard, he did not make much of an expression.

"Talk, damn you! Why are you here?"

He merely shrugged his shoulders. "I've come to get you out."

"And them?" She asked, pointing up and behind her.

After a long while, he answered, "No."

"You're full of shit."

"The plan was supposed to be botched from the beginning. There was no way it should've succeeded."

"You already knew that well before we started this mission."

"Of course I did. Your father came and talked to both me and Martine at Galbadia Garden."

"And you did not tell Squall about this?"

"I knew what he would've said."

"He would've stuck his gunblade into your throat!"

"I would've gladly welcomed it."

Her eyes exploded into a bright green and she lunged at him. She punched his chest several times, and he allowed it. When she brought her claws up to his face, though, he had to react for the nails were sharp. "Rinoa! I _have _to spring you out of here."

She brought a fist behind her, aimed at his jaw, but he caught it and spun her around, confusing her. "This is your _father's _orders!"

"Fuck that two-timing bastard!"

"He _is_ a two-timing bastard."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"He kept a part of the plan secret from me."

She calmed her breathing down and released pressure from her limbs. He let her go, and she turned to face him. "What are you saying?" she asked.

"Your father already had a deal with Edea to kill off Vinzer Deling."

"What?"

"I swear it. However, he found out that he wasn't getting the promotion that he so wanted. So, he ordered the hit on her, supposedly, to make you all the culprits."

"That cannot be true."

"That's as far as I know. Now, he didn't want you to get involved. But, you are pretty stubborn, and you interfered in his wishes."

"And you? You're the go-to stubborn bitch of the process?"

"Geez, where did this foul mouth come from y--"

"My friends are being tortued in there, you prick!! Squall's being electrified right now."

"I know. I've been hearing him from down here."

"Then what are---" she couldn't finish. It hurt too much.

This time, his fist clenched up. "I don't want to be the bad guy here! The short time I've spent with Squall and the others has been a damn fun time, alright! You are not supposed to be here. Your dad has made an agreement with the Sorceress herself to let _you and only __**you**_ out of here!! Is that clear?"

"W-Why?"

"Squall is the most valuable asset here, and Edea has ordered him to be ... eh... extrapolated for information."

"Extrapolated?"

"That's a nice way of saying tortued first and then eliminated. He's the main anomaly for her, and she wants him to suffer a horrible fate." He turned to leave.

However, anger had flown through her again, and she was able to find his Bismarck before he did. She got it, found it cocked, locked, and ready to rock and shoved it in the back of his skull. "You cannot do this, Irvine Kinneas!"

"Great Eden," he yelped, throwing his hands up, "you don't know how to use that thing!"

"Oh, damn, cowboy! I'm just a simple-minded girl, huh? Can't handle myself in a tough situation!"

"I didn't say that. That gun is extremely touchy, though. I've nearly blown my fingers off just by touching that thing."

"Well, you're just letting Squall die here!!!" Her ire had eclipsed her judgment.

Irvine caught her bluff, whipped around, and knocked the gun away and into his grasp. He quickly steadied her shoulder with his arm. "I'm _not!_"

"What?"

"Rinoa, you make too much noise!"

"F--"

"No cursing, either. Did you really think I was going to do this?"

She looked at him, confused.

"I need you down here, because you know the layout of this facility better than I do. They confiscated all their weapons, although Squall's has been summarily destroyed. You know where exactly everything is, plus these guards here have got the hots for you."

"So, what are you planning? Me being your Siren, while you dispatch them and get the others freed?"

"It's as simple as that."

She folded her arms. "I still don't trust you, but I like the plan."

"That's all I'll ever ask for."

* * *

Squall found himself slowly being pumped awake. Much the same as the day a long time ago when Seifer and he had dealt matching scars and he had woken up in the infirmary with pulsating needles dripping weird gooey liquid inside him, he now felt the same feeling. Although, now, he was propped up on a wall as if he were crucified. A snaking cord wrapped around his body that was cold on the skin of his back. At various points, black needles punctured into his neck, both his shoulder caps, both his wrists, down on his lower back, both his ass cheeks, and both ankles. He was shocked now, because all punctured points had gone through the flesh and some through the bone. He was aware of his blood dripping in rivulets down his arms and legs and back. He was still having a hard time seeing, but whatever liquid was pumping through the puncture points was jarring his body alive in regular intervals. After he blinked several times, he saw the source of the snaking cord: the dreadful electrical machine, looking rusty and old sitting in the middle of the corner.

A tapping of a foot brought his attention in front of him, and he saw Seifer Almasy once again. It seemed like an eternity had passed since their last painful meeting.

"Finally, Squall," he sneered, "you sleep too much."

He wanted to flick him off, but the pain in both of his hands was unrelenting. Yet, he just could not utter a scream at the moment. It was way too much overwhelming numbness. At the corner of his eye, he saw only one of the guards remained and no Moombas-- as far as he could tell. The guard had his hand on a lever, looking lecherously at the half-naked bloody man on the wall, and Squall could only guess what that lever did.

"You awake?" Seifer asked, jolting Squall to look again at him.

"Fuck you, you shit."

"Well, dammit. You're just a fucking bag of insults are you."

"Are you gonna ask the same damn question again?"

"Why not, Squall? I figured the beating part of the examination was getting a little too much. So, I've opted to go for a more.... _magnifying_ solution. And... if I do say so myself... I think it will be somewhat.... _shocking_." He snickered at that, and then asked, "What is SeeD?"

"You know as well as I do that it is a military program based at both Balamb and Galbadia Garden, as well as Trabia. What more could I possibly tell you?"

Seifer put a hand to his forehead. As if _he_ was getting a headache! "You are... incredible sometimes, you know that?" He looked at the impatient guard and nodded his head.

Squall's eyes grew wide, as the lever was pulled. The lights on the machine changed from orange to bright yellow, and the puncture needles embedded more into his skin. A fast electrical current ripped through the snaking cord and spazzed out of the cord itself. His whole body was consumed in an electrical storm. All he could do was scream. Everything inside him singed, melted, and quaked, and hot steam billowed off him admist the tumblings of bits of his flesh all over the floor. The lights in the tortue chamber and all throughout the vaulted tower dimmed and brightened, dimmed and brightened. Squall's voice warbled and waved and morphed into inhuman tones and decibles. His pinned body writhed and moaned so helplessly and fruitlessly, that Seifer and the guard were in an awe-struck state. After a full three minutes, Seifer snapped his fingers and held his nose at the smell of burning flesh.

"Get a fucking Moomba in here!"

The reddie appeared and applied a stronger tubular casing into Squall's stomach. Slowly, the charred and bloody SeeD awoke from a shocked stupor once again. He had never been religious in his entire life, but now of all times he wished for some higher support. All he could do outwardly was gasp, cough up blood, and vomit everything he had ever eaten. Huge chunks of greenish-yellow goo fell from his lips and soaked his chest and stomach. Sopping wet lumps splattered the floor. The treatment the Moomba had given him couldn't help his peeling skin, and tons of flesh was constantly dripping to the ground.

The guard at the lever was having a hard time keeping his nose plugged. Seifer let his hand go for a moment and sickeningly breathed in a deep waft. "Squall, you only have two more chances to say your peace, and you... really... might not survive the next pull of the lever."

".........T-T-Th-Then.... f-fuck it...." the dying SeeD wheezed.

Seifer realized his rival was on a precarious slope, and he ordered the Moomba to inject a second tube in him. Some of the vitality returned to Squall, and Seifer waited patiently for an answer to the implied question.

"Why... does.. she want... to know?"

Seifer sighed. "Edea demands to know why she was attacked by SeeD. She is an extremely important figure in today's international politick. She also realizes that SeeD is an extremely important figure in today's international politick. So, Squall, since I never made it into the program and cannot possiblt testify to its causes and effects, _you_ must bear the sole authority in this room. Tell me, if someone attains a Seedship such as yourself, they must know some type of secret, right?"

The Moomba's treatment had cauterized most of Squall's wounds, but he now resembled a pus-bloated leperous bag of snot. Every inch of his white skin was stained red from his blood, and in most areas his skin was drowned in caked vomit and goo. His hair was pinged out and whacked from the electrical energy, and when he coughed a breath of smoke came out of his mouth. He had to wonder why he was still alive.

It was difficult to talk, but he swallowed hoarsly and formed a reply. "Nobody harbors a secret. There isn't anything to tell."

"So weak are you," Seifer sneered. "Care to change your answer, Squall? This can go on all day... that is, until you die of course. Keep in mind, though, that others will get the job done. The instructor will be just as tough to crack as you, Squall, but since she's a weak-minded girl she will spill her beans before she dies. The messenger girl seems mid-range, but I think it'll be kind of fun to tortue that pretty little body." He laughed suddenly. "Holy shit!" He turned to the aide. "Can you imagine Chickenwuss up on there!"

The aide laughed raucously and almost pissed his pants.

"Seifer!" Squall snapped, an unexpected vitality surging through him. "They were your comrades at some point."

"Well, every comrade except me will face the evil maw of death. But since I like you so much, I figured you should take that drink first."

"I thought Edea didn't want me dead."

"Actually, I lied. She does. You threw my Hyperion shotgun shell in her chest. She didn't like that too much, I can assure you."

Squall grunted, for the pain had come back for a bigger second wave. He fought the nausea some more, because he could see Seifer form a bright twinkle in his eye-- he seemed to be thinking of something delightful.

"Did you see me up there, Squall? In my moment of glory!"

"Your.... what?"

"MY MOMENT OF GLORY!!!" he suddenly shouted, jolting the aide back from the lever. "Oh my goodness, it was the most perfect night of my life!" His eyes had grown doe-eyed. "My dream had been fulfilled, and now I am leading the life of it. Squall, are you listening? My romantic dream has been fulfilled!"

"Your.... that thing you.... were talking back at Dollet?"

Seifer cocked an eyebrow and his jaw tightened. "That.... _thing_?"

"Your romantic dream is to be a tortuer?"

"What? A tortu--- No!! you fuck! A Knight, goddamnit!" Anger coarsed for a second through his cheeks, and then he calmed again and grinned really wide. "Oh, I bet you didn't expect me standing up there waving to all the pretty girls and just basking in the heat of the afterglow. Oh... sweet Eden. I'm feeling mighty spiritual right now."

"Fuck you Seifer. A Knight is someone priviledged enough and worthy enough for the title."

"What?"

"I saw you up there. Her little lapdog. Sitting there with your tongue hanging out and panting in your heat. Sure, you and I fought, and you won. You stretched my asshole wide, you fucking cocksucker! But, you didn't do it on your own. You had her help. You had her magic and her power. She told you to step aside and you did. She controlled you, and she's still doing so. You are nothing more than a puppet for her cause. Get that through your fucking skull!"

Now Seifer felt like the feeling he felt during the battle where they got matching scars. The acrid lucidity of his rival's comments soaked in too close to the bone; of course, he wanted to electrocute the bastard. Yet... he couldn't? What was this he was feeling? Was it true?

"No, Squall," he said, but there was pressure in his voice that was easily picked up on. "You can't say those things when you are not in the position to defend yourself." He snapped his fingers, and the current started again.

The lights dimmed, and the sparks ricocheted. Seifer now lost all his wonderful emotions and pretty much every other emotion too. He stared blankly at Squall's body jumping and twitching and peeling. He watched the skin shred off with a hollow gaze. _Why did Squall always have to win in some way? _he wondered. _What was it about him?_ He had admired the guy a lot. Something about the roughened gunblader was a mesmerizing attribute. He had zoned out his rival's bloodcurdling screams unlike his aide and the Moomba; and, instead, he concentrated on what went on before. He knew Squall didn't know the full story of things like _he _knew. He knew Squall would probably change his mind once he found out. That is... if he didn't die from this electrocution.

Yes... that was it. He needed to be alive in order to find out.

"Stop the lever."

"What?" wheezed the aide pretentiously.

Seifer pulled out Hyperion and blew a hole in the wall just inches from the aide's head. "Stop the fucking lever!"

The aide indeed pissed his pants and stopped the electrocution.

After the Moomba revived the limp SeeD for what seemed like the one thousandth time, Seifer realized that Squall was on his last legs. He had been surprised by this man before, but he figured the good times had to end somehow. He was reminded of that when the chamber door opened. A fat guard came through and snorted, " Sir Seifer! The Missile Base is ready to load the first round, sir!"

Seifer said nothing but saluted the guy off.

"Missile....... Base?"

Seifer turned slowly to see Squall twitch involuntarily on his crucified slab. It was indescribable to define his condition.

"Yes, Squall, Missile Base. Balamb Garden is to be destroyed by a barrage of missiles the likes of which dwarf that Ultima bomb that destroyed Lapin Beach on Dollet. It is a pity, I guess. I grew up there and I know so many people there. But Edea has her orders, and we must obey them. It is unlikely that all the SeeDs there will be annihilated. Some will flee to all corners of the globe. Well.... heh... that is where I come in. I am the Knight. The Bloodhound. I will hunt down every last SeeD on this goddamn earth, and I will personally execute them in my own signature style." He tried to get a good look at Squall's face, but the SeeD had his head down on his chest. Gently, Seifer tilted the chin up with the sharp point of Hyperion and he gazed into the bloody eyes of his rival. "I hope that you somehow survive this, but the odds are not in your favor. If they are, then, Squall, the fun.... has only just begun."

He sheathed his sword and laughed maniacally. Turning to his aide, he said, "Stay here and see if you can peaceably get some information out of him."

The aide raised his eyebrows. "Peaceably?" he said sarcastically.

"Yes. I am being serious." His tone meant it. He took one final look at Squall and then left the gruesome tortue chamber.

The Moomba watched him go, and so did the aide. The aide, however, flicked Seifer's back off as the door shut. "Who the fuck does he think he is?"

The Moomba chirped unapprovingly but received a kick in its stomach.

"Shut up, you fucking reddie! He's too nice on your ass!"

The Moomba held its ground defiantly, and the two had a face-off until the aide cheaply raised his hand up to strike, and then the Moomba backed up into a corner. It kept an eye on Squall, and it seemed to shed a tear.

Squall was barely breathing. His body was a wreck, and his mind was torn in pieces. He had barely heard Seifer speak before he left, but one thing bounced in his mind: Missiles at Garden. They were going to blow up the Garden! "N-No," he said weakly.

A loud noise was heard, and the aide shouted, "Shut up, you twat!" He had picked up a bucket filled with blood, organs, and unidentifiable parts, and he poured it all over Squall's body. There was some type of acidic liquid mixed in there as well, for open wounds on Squall's body became eviscerated by a magnifying ache and tear, and he weakly garbled out a horrid cry. The aide brazenly hit him with the empty bucket several times, a lecherous smile on his face. "Edea says you know some info!" He said that five more times, each time louder than the next. "Talk damn you! What do you know?"

"C-C-C-Come here...." The SeeD said weakly.

The aide, knowing better, dropped the bucket on the floor and went to Squall. "What? You gonna tell some info! What?"

"Your...."

The aide got right up to Squall, so his ear was next to his mouth.

"....Y-Your mother. She's squeals when I fuck her G-spot, you prick." Before the aide could answer, Squall bit down hard on his ear with all the strength he could muster. The weird contorted angle pinned the aide underneath Squall's twisted frame, and the Squad Leader chewed off half of the man's ear. The aide fell to the ground, and the Moomba gave a little cheer and fist-pump in the air. Squall spit the ear out and smiled a bloody smile.

The aide, though, ignored the gaping hole and stumbled his way to the lever. "Fuck it!" he screamed. "Fuck it, and fuck me! He can kill me, but nobody... you hear! nobody bites off my ear!!!!"

_Kill me please_, Squall thought. The lever pulled to its highest magnitude, and Squall felt the shock again. Only this time, he didn't bother to scream or to fight back. He rode the electric current, and he felt everything slip away.

The Moomba though was fucking pissed. While Squall was biting off the ear earlier, it had made some secret calls. Now the aide, with his back turned to the chamber door, did not see five more Moombas join the extremely pissed reddie in the corner. He didn't hear them coming either, for the massive static of the electricity blanketed out the sounds of their scratching nails on the floor. A sharp claw stabbed his back, and he fell to the floor letting go of the lever. One Moomba shut the electricity off, and the other five snatched the aide's gun and then basically in one fell swoop decapitated the man as he was writhing on the floor. They each cheered at their move, but then they panicked at the sight of Squall's limp form on the wall.

One of the Moombas slapped another on the head and angrily told him in its incomprehensible language to set the man free. The slapped Moomba hurried to the electrical machine and pressed some buttons. Two Moombas went to position themselves underneath Squall's frame, and the other three worked on some very strong potions. The Moombas were the world's best alchemists, although they weren't allowed to practice their masterwork here at the prison. The fucking government forbade them from doing so. The electrical machine dimmed to a cold state, and all the needles puncturing Squall's skin released. He shuddered on the slab, and the two Moombas grasped his legs gently and lowered his soiled frame gently to the floor. As well as the ability to make the world's strongest and most effective potions, the Moombas had an uncanny healing power in their palms. Being socially connected to the legendary Phoenixes, a healing mitochondria in their bloodstream was able to heal not only themselves through touch and embraces but those that they especially cared for.

And they had reason to care for this young man.

As the three Moombas inserted their craftwork into Squall's skin, all six of them took a good hard look into his face to see if their guesses had been correct.

They were.

"Laguna!" they screamed. The only comprehensible word they had uttered thus far.

"Laguna!"

"Laguna!"

"Laguna!"


	13. Road to Perdition

**Author's Note:** Whew! A first big action-packed chapter. Previous ones like the Dollet field exam, the Laguna Centran experience, and the Timber mission were small compared to this one. Hopefully (for people who like action) this chapter satisfies. And, hopefully, (for those where action isn't there No. 1 fave) this chapter satisfies as well. I love the music when the three SeeDs reunite with the battered Squall. I believe it's called "The Oath" if I'm not mistakened. If this site had a soundtrack application, I'd insert that piece at its appropriate spot.

I appreciate the comments referring to suggestions on expanding the world development. Don't worry, I got some ideas churning right now. Disc Two was always my favorite part anyway-- great character development.

As always, enjoy the read and review as you please. ~~~ACJ

_Roads to Perdition_

_Not paved in good intentions_

_Are soiled in blood_

The reactor core that powered each of the three vaults was located three layers under the desert soot and connected the three towers by spindly cables. The nuclear fusion was a by-product of the terrible succubus energy used in the Sorceress War two decades ago. It merely provided the facility with three hours of electricity a day, while expending most of its resources to power up the anti-magicka field spiralling in each of the sinews of the three vaults. If it could be broken into, the system would immediately venture into a meltdown. What would happen next would not be a very fun experience.

A watch duty of two guards standing at the front entrance was all the security chief thought was necessary. All the guards were pre-screened beforehand as to any prior criminal offenses before becoming a fine member of the distinguished prison staff. The chief didn't want any felons to protect the core of the prison-- that would be just too dumb. Of course, since the prison was underfunded, workers' salaries cost the chief too much money to staff a whole bunch of people to watch the nuclear core. Yet, all the prisoners were tightly locked up, so no security surveillance system was thought to be utilized. Why bother? The entrance to the prison was thoroughly guarded, and a couple watch groups patrolled a floor one flight at a time. All the inmates were in locked cages, and if they managed to spring out they couldn't open the doors-- by then, the authorities would have heard the noises and come rushing in to subdue or kill them, whichever they preferred.

Nevertheless, the two guards watching over the nuclear core were in for a surprise. Their gazes drew up to a young woman walking out an intersecting hallway with her back turned to them and just casually walking away and whistling.

Curious, they brought their guns out, and the one on the right shouted, "Stop right there!"

The dark haired girl stopped walking and then played with her hair, leaning on one foot and jutting her shapely ass out a bit.

Caught by surprise, the guard who had spoken swallowed a bit before speaking. His partner was just staring. "Turn.... around.. slowly."

The girl did, and she gave both of them a flash of lovely green eyes. She was rubbing her body sensuously, pausing particularly over her breasts. "Is there a problem, officer?"

"How did you get down here?!" His voice was croaking, and his hand holding the gun was shaking. Both of them walked slowly up to her, and they were getting anxious when she started to play with her tits.

"I was just taking a walk," the girl said. "I am a visitor for your boss. He needed a little company for the night."

"Really?" Both of them had put their guns down now and were walking a bit faster.

"Yes," the girl said, smiling wickedly. She pulled her blue cloak aside and brought down her tan dress just enough to expose half of her white melons. They glistened in the light of the underground core. "Of course, I don't think he'll mind if _we_ have a little bit of fun, too."

They couldn't resist and reached out to grab her. A powerful hit slammed the temple of one of the guards. Irvine Kinneas grabbed the wounded guard's collar, cocked his Bismarck, and blew a hole in the second guard's stomach. He then slammed the wounded guard's face into a jagged railing, and that was it for him.

Rinoa covered her chest back up and then tried to button her blue coat up some more. "Any other wonderful ideas you have in your brain?" she asked harshly.

He looked at her puzzled. "It worked, right?"

"I'm not a piece of meat, you coward."

"For the last fucking time. I was not about to leave Squall to die."

His stare told her that he was telling the truth, so she relented. "They have a storage room down here. But all this whirring noise is hurting my head."

There was a low whirring noise coming from the reactor's fuselage. When the electrical power heated up, it got pretty warm and intense in there. The low steady vibration was particularly draining on a newcomer's ears, but after a while one grew accustomed to it.

"This is what powers the place," Irvine said dryly, as they entered the core facility. A large sternum lay in the center, and dim yellow liquid rolled around on the side. The whirring was louder here, and pipes and shafts connected from the vat to the ceiling. "Imagine if we were to disrupt this thing."

"Irvine, that would kill everyone here."

"I didn't know you cared so much for criminals."

"There are lots of people from Timber and Winhill here who protested against the government's actions and airstrikes."

"Activists, huh? Oh, yeah, that's right. You were a part of the Forest Owls."

She hit him on the back. "You got something against that?"

"Not really, but it's a futile cause."

"A what?"

"I'm surprised you made it this far, actually."

"God, you're an ass!"

"I know. It's my nature." He kicked open a door at the back and was surprised to see a whole bunch of weaponry strewn everywhere. "This... must be the place. Damn. They're pretty messy here."

"Ah, good! There it is." Rinoa was geniunely excited to see her flashy Cardinal stuck on the top of the pile. In one piece, too. She picked it up and strapped it to her wrist. Looking around some more, she found her stash of darts and hooked them onto her belt.

"Damn, girl. You lookin ta cause a ruckus?"

"Not with you, cowboy."

"That might be impossible. A ruckus is somethin I enjoy." He found what looked like Quistis's whip, except something on it didn't look right. "She used a whip, right?"

"Who?"

"That strawberry-blonde."

"Oh, god. Now you're calling women by their hair color."

"Yes, Raven. Is this hers?"

"Yeah," she gave a closer look. "It's missing its junctions."

"Oh, yeah, they took the magic out of it."

"Where is it?"

"I dunno. I'll ask the magic genie around here to tell me."

Rinoa sighed and held her head with her hands. She looked to the right and found something familiar sticking out of a pile of rusty blades. She wondered if there were any typhoid-like diseases plastered all over these things, but she reached down anyway and plucked out Selphie's nunchaku. She frowned when she saw the same sight that was on the whip. "They did it to this one too."

He acknowledged that without saying a word and went over to the side of the room to search a new spot.

A shiny gleam caught her eye, and Rinoa looked down and suppressed a gasp. Flung in a corner and a little soiled by dirt and blood was Squall's necklace. She slowly walked to it and grasped the griffin ring that was attached to it. She could envision this on him, around his neck. She wondered why she thought that and slowly put it in her cloak. She gave a little smile that made her feel a lot better.

"Hm. Where is Zell's weapon?" Irvine asked.

"He uses his fists, although I bet they pawned off the brass knuckles."

"Yeah, you're probably right." He had been kneeling down next to a dresser, and when he stood up he missed his grace and hit the corner of the dresser. "Sonofabitch." One of the shelves popped open, and something glistening caught his eye. He rubbed off the sore spot and checked inside. "Here we go," he cooed softly.

"What?" She went over to him and gasped. All the magical jewels plus GF gems were sitting in there. Some of the GFs looked a little pissed-off, shining all brightly in there. "Do you think we can use them?"

"Not with that fusion in there blocking it."

They both looked at the large sternum. A control box was to its right. They looked at each other, looked back at the sternum, and then looked at each other again.

"Kinneas, are you thinking up something rich?"

He winked. "I think it'll be pretty lucrative."

"W-Wait a minute. You don't know what you're doing."

He left her perplexed. She stood there watching him settle by the control panel, and she thought all kinds of horrible things. She quickly snatched up all the magical jewels and was surprised to be able to stuff them all in her cloak. Even with the anti-magicka field, she felt their strong presence coarsing on her skin. She went and found him hard at work examining the panel. Weird noises were emitting from all his switch pulls and finger traces.

"Irvine, this isn't very smart."

"Neither is venturing on up there with no magical skills and most probably up to a hundred assault-rifle guards, eh?" He pushed a rusty blue handle, and a loud squeak occurred from a tanker to their right. Weird lights began flickering on the control panel, and the air seemed to be getting hotter. "Ah," he said, surprised, "I can actually see what I'm doing now."

She looked at him wide-eyed.

The control panel was now alit and a bright blue screen now showed a power meter. The sternum was running at low capacity despite being in the process of generating the meager electricity. A yellow stratum to the left screen showed a couple of buttons that could intentionally increase the capacity. He touched both and watched as the percentage quantity increased. More static and noises occurred throughout the entire room. Within the vat, the yellow liquid was slowly turning orange.

Rinoa nervously clasped and unclasped the strap holding her red Cardinal.

At mid-capacity, a new image appeared on the screen: a fuel-injection trigger. The cowboy figured that was the source of the overdrive, so he pressed it. The loudest noise sounded underneath them, and a rumble started rattling the sternum. The power meter began running faster, and the orange-tinged vat started growing red in color. At its highest capacity, the fuel-injection trigger lit up, and Irvine gave a sharper pull, and then everything stopped.

The vat cooled down to a dim blue, and no noises sounded.

Both of them looked at each other and breathed. They were surprised to find their breaths visible before them and even more surprised to find the heated fuselages immediately chilled. The biggest surprise came with the vat itself. The blue changed to purple then dark green, and a steady chirping sound signalled Irvine's fears and worries.

"Is it--?" Rinoa asked.

"Yes. We better get going."

* * *

The yellow double-doors opened revealing the sharp piercing glare of the Dingo Desert's sun-baked sands, and Seifer Almasy had to shield his eyes before he could find his shades. He found wearing the trenchcoat was not a very good idea, so he slowly took it off and curled his nose up at the stench of sweat. He needed a shower for Squall's guts and internal juices were splattered all over him. That had been a nasty fucking mess he had put him through, and he wasn't exactly content with the task. Edea would be pleased, though, for a reason only she knew about.

Resting the folded-up soiled coat on his left shoulder, he smiled at the sight of his closest aides. Fujin and Raijin had showed up on time with the news of the Missile Base, and they had rode in on the choppers. God, he loved the look of his bike. He ignored their inquiring remarks and ran a hand across the sleek seat of the reddish-gray motorbike. The dark ruby shine gleamed in the great Sun's light, and the two golden crosses on the sides sparkled from one side to the other. He ran his finger over the console, pausing succinctly over each jutting instrument. He couldn't wait to hear its delectable purr once again.

A hand clasped hard on his shoulder, and he looked up startled.

"Yo! You always in a trance, ya know!" Raijin stupidly uttered, a big dumb grin on his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seifer saw Fujin give the dark burly man an annoyed look. If he wasn't enveloped in such a drained state that the tortuing had put him through, he would've have snickered at the usual jest. Instead, he just sighed which puzzled the two of them greatly.

The doors behind them opened, and they saw a warden running out to meet them.

"Sir Seifer!" he said, clumsily saluting, "we've gotten Miss Heartilly out of her cell."

"How?"

"Someone had come by with orders from General Carroway to let her out."

"Who?"

"He didn't say his name, sir."

"You didn't ask?"

"He said the orders were urgent from the General, and he was assumed to be completely anonymous, sir."

Seifer stared blankly at the warden and churned out a couple of scenarios. He wasn't aware of any specified releases, unless he wanted the princess to be released himself. He actually gave the warden a very confused look, for he was absolutely struck off guard. "What did this person--- man or woman?"

"M-Man, sir."

"What did this man look like?"

"Tall. Auburn hair, in a ponytail. Dressed in ... er... I dunno. It kinda looked like a puffy shirt like the old Centran cowboys used to wear. A black fedora too."

Seifer churned all those together and found someone very familiar. Someone that he had seen about a month ago. He reached a hand to the back of his scalp and stroked it gently. His confused face turned slowly into one of grinning malice.

The warden looked a little uncomfortable. "You... recognize, sir?"

"Possibly."

"Well, let's go in there and snuff him out, ya know!" Raijin shouted, brandishing his quarterstaff.

A sharp kick on the back of his leg prompted him to sheathe it. "QUIET!" Fujin yelled, her one eye brightly blazing.

"No," Seifer said calmly. "We're not gonna snuff him out." He popped his knuckles. "Not yet, anyway." He looked at the now confused warden. "Double your staff and start patrolling the floors."

The warden saluted and acknowledged happily. That type of order was his most favorite. He turned to leave, but the Knight cleared his throat.

Seifer craned his neck back to view the small crown ontop of the prison where he had previously departed. A flurry of thoughts and future scenes played out in his mind. Unintentionally, his left foot was drawing a couple of lines in the sand. "You better triple your staff. Take everyone and anyone who can fire a gun." He looked sternly at the now nervous guard. "Understood?"

"Y-Yes. Sir."

* * *

He felt reasonably confident that his balls were okay, event though he thought they felt bloated and swollen. Most of the pain now lay in his stomach and the lower part of his breast plate. His breathing was wheezy and slow; that damn guard had completely lost his senses back there. Then again, Zell figured that that was probably the lightest treatment any prisoner had ever gotten in this godforsaken place.

He was aware of Selphie's hands on his shoulders. She was rubbing them to provide some sort of relief for him, but he desperately needed a Cura gem. Quistis looked on with concern. The guards had forgotten to plunge the cell back into darkness, and Zell secretly wanted that. The light was too blinding on his eyes, and it was only adding to his misery.

All of them jumped when the lights sputtered again, and that horrible screaming noise sounded a second time. Longer and more pronounced, they now could fully realize that it was Squall Leonhart being electrified. They could do nothing except stare at the ceiling, visually conjuring up the image of his writhing body. They wanted to know who was doing that to him, and they wanted to electrify _that_ bastard. This particular one seemed to last for ten minutes, although it was probably shorter than that.

Against his best wishes, Zell propped his body up to a crouched position. He ignored Selphie's advice to stay still, and he started clenching and unclenching his fists. "We can't let them get away with this!"

"Do you have a plan to get out of here?" Quistis asked.

"These fists o mine can do some damage!"

Quistis gave Selphie a perplexed look before replying, "Zell, honey, you look like you just came from the locker of a morgue. Sure, you got out of the cage, but--"

"Oh! That's right!" A look of hope had sprung on his face, and he painfully turned toward the lock on Selphie's cage. She seemed ecstatic about the tattooed boy's plan, but Quistis remained skeptical.

She watched him fumble with some of the tumblers. It looked like he would actually do it, but the bolt fell back and jammed against his knuckle. "I don't know how you got out of yours, but--"

"Let me tell you, that hurt a lot. I don't think that was a smart idea."

"Well, yeah, I could have told you that. It's hopeless, you two. I can't see any way out of this."

"You're just going to let them have their way with you!" Selphie yelled, a pained confusion on her pretty, youthful face.

The bolt jammed back again on Zell's knuckle, causing him to bleed from a fresher wound.

"I'll make sure to cut off a cock or two, before I let them have their way with me!" Quistis replied defiantly.

Zell pulled his hand back sharply as the bolt sped back again. He licked the still-bleeding wound on his finger and tried a different approach to opening the lock.

"How are you going to do that?" Selphie asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You have no weapon of which to... er... do that little bit of... er.. anatomy."

Zell thought he saw a tumbler or two fall through the wee hole in the side, and his heart quickened its pace.

"Selphie, you underestimate my agility. And the adeptness of these guards. You think for a second that they're gonna immediately start with the questioning? No. They'll want some foreplay first. So, you take your hand and put it down there to give them some 'warmth', you know, and then you twist really sharply so it snaps off."

Zell held his succeeding grip in place and gave Quistis a startled look. "W-What?!?"

Selphie and Quistis giggled at their partner's horrified expression. The bob-haired spunky SeeD turned to Quistis and said, "Won't they be a little angry with you?"

Quistis thought about that for a minute. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

One tumbler was left to fall down, and Zell gave a short quick prayer.

"Sure, I mean, think about it. These... men.. if you can call them that... they'd do anything to get their rocks off. They'd probably think me twisting off a couple of snakes would be just a jolly fucking good time!"

"You know, I kinda like this new raunchy mouth on you. It adds to your look."

The bolt jammed back in place, and Zell smashed his fist on the floor.

"What do you mean my look?"

"Well, look. You dress in a tight-fitting bodysuit. You wear knee-high, high heel boots. You fight with a whip."

"I think it works out great."

"True, but you always seem to be so nice and sweet. Even though you get depressed a lot. That part's not very fun, you know. Depression hurts you."

"Depressed?" She vaguely looked at Zell's annoyed look as the bolt smashed down again. "What do you mean depressed?"

"I'm getting depressed right now, with you two talking," Zell snapped, annoyed.

Selphie bopped him on the head. "Girl talk, Zell. We're _talking_."

Zell gave her a perplexed look and then went back to the bolt. Three of his fingers were probably broken now; he couldn't really tell, for his right hand had gone numb.

"So, anyway, what were we talking about?"

"About my depression," the former instructor snapped.

"Oh yeah! You always look so sad, especially now that--"

"Now that Rinoa's here!"

"Y---What? No. Why would you say that?"

"Because that's what everyone thinks."

"Gee, I never noticed that."

"You were just about to say it."

"Well, it's no reason to fuss about it."

"I'm not fussing about it."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you _are_."

"No, I'm _not_."

"Yes, you--."

"NO! I'M NOT!"

A lock fell on the floor, and both girls turned to see Zell gently waving his bloody hand in the air. He looked really winded. Selphie's door swung loosely open, and she daintily hopped out. Her legs were atrophied, but she was a limber and lithe girl, and she quickly worked out the kinks in her joints. She regarded Zell with adoration, but the brawler was not in a state to reply.

All three of then suddenly heard a noise along the outside walls, a scraping sound. The cell door burst open and in walked a fiery red-orange creature with a plate of food. Zell stared at the beast with two-parts fear and one-part curiosity. It looked like an orangish lion with bright beady eyes.

"Oh!" Selphie cooed. "It's a Moomba!"

"A what?"

"A Moomba. They populate Trabia on the western side." She walked over to it and petted behind its ears. The Moomba closed its eyes and felt deeply relaxed. It was surprised two of the prisoners were out of their cages, but it was a sucker for attention as all Moombas were, and it dropped the plate of food.

Unfortunately, it was being trailed hot on its heels by two pistol-carrying guards. The looks on their faces were ones of fright and anger. They looked at Zell and Selphie and the floundering Moomba, and they moved for attack. They grabbed for Selphie, but she kneed one of them in the groin and reached for his gun. The second one grabbed her around her waist and flung her to the ground. Zell had had enough. Despite his great pains, he found some inner strength, ignored his hurt ribs, and smashed a boot into the wounded guard's face. The guard fell back into the wall, and the Moomba took the dinner plate and whacked him upside the head. The second guard flung Selphie across the floor and took out his pistol. Brazenly, he fired a shot at Zell that was poorly aimed, missing him entirely. The second shot, though, grazed the brawler's leg. A third shot would've been fired had not the Moomba came up and slashed his back with a powerful claw. The guard dropped the pistol and fell writhing to the floor.

"Who the fuck is causing all this racket!"

Zell found the voice familiar and frowned when he saw the face of the lecherous head guard. Both of them stared cold-eyed and hard, and Zell figured it was now or never. He leapt forward with all his might, and the head guard pulled out his billy club and swung. Zell felt the force of the club against his jaw but kept propelling forward. His vision was rocked, but he pounced the head guard and started beating his face. The head guard tried hard to pry him off, but Zell held his ground. Infuriated, Zell spat straight into the guard's eyes with a mixture of sweat, saliva, and blood and then grabbed his head with both of his hands. Giving one good blow with his knee in the guard's crotch, Zell snapped his neck.

Quistis and Selphie looked at the brawler with the most appreciation he had seen from anyone, and the Moomba chirped excitedly. Rushing to him, the creature totally surprised him by wrapping its arms around his battered frame and hugging him tightly. He felt an extreme loving heat flow through his veins, and when the Moomba got off him he was clean from head to toe save for a dried red tone on his skin and his soiled clothes. He looked at the Moomba with great awe, and the girls did too. The creature saw the spunky SeeD had a blackened eye that looked a little bad, and it gave her the same treatment. It then unlocked Quistis's cage with a simple swipe at the bars and then gently lowered her down.

"W-W-Wow!" Selphie cheered. "This little guy is amazing."

The Moomba cheered as well, giving little fist-pumps in the air.

"Thank you, little guy," Zell said ruffling the creature's mane. He then stretched long and hard, thrilled to hear his muscles and bones reacting to his movement.

"Zell," Quistis said, adoration toning her voice, "where did you get that adrenaline?"

"You kiddin me? I am always ready for a brawl!" He looked down at the dead head guard. "I don't know who you are, man," he said to the corpse, "but hopefully your afterlife is saner."

The Moomba made a little noise and shook its head. It didn't seem to speak anything intelligible, but it seemed to be a good listener. So much so that it heard the pattering of paws before the three humans did. They became aware right when three more of the creatures appeared, all excited and frantic.

"Laguna! Laguna!" they shrieked.

All three SeeDs were startled. The word was articulate for these creatures, but the name was the most hard-hitting. "Laguna?" Zell asked.

The four Moombas looked at him, surprised. "Laguna!" they shrieked in unison.

"You know Laguna?" he asked them.

Their eyes ablazed, and they nodded their heads feverishly. The three newcomers gestured to the one in the cell, and that one gestured to the SeeDs to follow it. The Moombas left, and the three humans wasted no time in wondering if there were any guards out in the hall. Was Laguna Loire really here? And Kiros Seagill? Ward Zabac? Did they find Squall? These questions blazed through their minds, as they carefully scurried down the hall. They saw a bright white sign on the wall that said simply "SEVEN". Apparantly, that meant they were on the seventh floor.

The floorplan of the prison unsettled them. It was a spiralling vault that was donut-shaped. Fifty rooms lay wrapped around the massive hole in the center. Stained blood, bits of flesh, and unidentifiable stains coated the metal floors that once were a pristine blue. Zell remembered from his dreams through Ward's eyes the awesome blue color of the place. Now, the colors were drab and messy. Springing from the hole somewhere down in the belly of the vault were spindly cable and tubes containing yellowish liquid. A constantly-flowing liquid with air bubbles spiralling loosely within it. He figured that that was the source of the anti-magicka field. It must've interspersed throughout all the floors and side panels.

The air was deathly quiet, and the trio of humans and the quad of Moombas quickly ascended the vaulting southeastern prison tower but ascended as carefully as they could. In various places, the light blue oil lamps dotting various parts of the floors were zapped out shrouding large sections of the floors in darkness. They saw small platoons of soldiers patrolling several of the flights, they timed their movements to dodge the sights of the machine guns.

The staircases were convienently located all in the same general location: a little nook in the northeastern section of the donut hole. They dodged the sights of three platoons and found the traces of blood on the floor to be appearing more and more numerous. They now saw discarded body parts littering the floor, and the bottoms of their feet became rather crunchy-sounding. The thirteenth floor came into view, and the floor was still and empty. They saw slits in the wall where light poured out. Even in that small emission, they had to shield their eyes from the brightness. They longed to see the Sun once again. The Moombas came and tugged at their clothes. They seemed anxious to meet this "Laguna" again.

The group ascended a steep incline up to a small fourteenth floor and found a whole splattering of blood and goo on the walls as well as the smell of burnt flesh. An open door led to a black void, but a whole bunch of reddish-orange Moombas were crowded around it. Maybe twenty or so Moombas. They all turned and cheered wildly calling out the name over and over. Zell and the girls exchanged curious looks and were not entirely sure of what to do. The four Moombas who had led them here scurried behind them and prodded them forward. Zell led the way and slowly walked into the black void.

They were horrified at first.

The first sight they saw was an impaled head in the corner, one that looked like the poor flesh of a tortued prisoner. Smeared blood mixed with large fly-ridden pools of red all over the metal floor. A small table lay in the center with two chairs dirty and filthy. A small tray of horrifying bloody tools lay scattered on the surface of the table. Their were scratch marks on the walls no doubt from the terrible pain previous inmates had suffered trying to flee a paralyzing blow. Their gazes shifted slowly and unsettling to a rusty cool electrical machine and then to a bloody, fried slab of concrete cemented to a wall. More Moombas were in here, six of them, huddled around something on the floor. Half of the group of Moombas waiting outside chirped to get their attention, and they saw the three SeeDs staring at them. They each pawed each other delightfully and then parted to reveal a sight that brought harsh tears to each of their faces.

Zell could not remember when was the last time he cried. Indeed, much of his past was consumed in an opaque mist, and he could not remember clearly much of his childhood. He always found that frustrating, because he believed that he had missed out on some very important moments. He was an emotional person but more driven by excitement than by tears. He did remember one time when he had angered his Ma back in Balamb. The thought of seeing her hurt emotionally like that had made him despondent. Someone he had cared about so much had produced a great heart inside him. He felt like that now as he witnessed his Squad Leader's frame.

Selphie had not known him that long, but she was affectionate, prodding, and a very admiring and loving person. No matter how much the scar-face SeeD was cold and harsh in voice, she recognized something much deeper in him. Something of a strong, calculating sort. Ruthless in battle, but hiding something valuable. Something unique and pure. Seeing him like this now seemed to taint that image, and she could not stop and did not want to stop the flow of tears.

Quistis felt the worst of all. Her eyes roamed over every inch of his battered body. The Moombas were hard at work trying to mend his flesh, and they were doing an excellent job. Yet, he still looked horrible. It was true, and she knew it. She was deeply interested in him, although she never would say "love". Love was not something she felt within her, for she wanted to be as independent as she could. It was her nature-- always had been. Yet, she saw the same thing in him, and she found herself falling into a dependent state. If by some uncanny thing... no! She shook her head, but she could not stop the soaking. She covered her eyes to avert them from his twisted frame. She did love him, she admitted. She could not hold back. What was truly painful was seeing him like this and knowing that there was nothing she could do about it.

Admist the horror and cruel acridness of blood, gore, and violence, Squall Leonhart was alive and free from the inhibition. To be accurate, he was still broken, bloodied, covered in goo and vomit, missing all his precious accessories, and pretty much nude. Yet, his eyes were open, and he was astonished to once again find three of his companions standing in front of him. He didn't want to say anything at first. The feeling of comfort had for once enveloped his soul. A feeling unlike any he had ever felt before, at least as far back as he could remember. The tattooed face of Zell, the youthful face of Selphie, and the stern but beautiful face of Quistis. He never wanted to part with any of them ever again. Admist the horror of all his worst nightmares, he felt for a moment at home once again.

"Squall...." Zell began, but could not finish. His voice was too weak to carry on the boulder-size question of asking his state of being.

Strangely enough, the gunblader smiled at him and closed his eyes. "It was hell."

The three of them sighed in relief as the familiar voice rang proud on their ears once more. It was a sound they never wanted to get rid of.

A Moomba outside squawked in fright, followed by a scurrying of paws on the floor. All four SeeDs turned to the entrance and heard two sets of feet sound on the floor. Two soldiers then appeared: an officer and an enlisted service member. The group found the arrival very familiar.

The officer flipped up his visor, and the familiar face was like an acrid odor in a soiled toilet. It was the man named Biggs, the repairman extraordinaire who had jimmied up the communications tower at the Dollet Dukedom. The enlisted man quickly flipped up his visor to reveal himself as the bumbling stooge Wedge who had been the assistant.

"What are you doing here?" Zell asked, readying a fighting stance. Quistis and Selphie were a bit more cautious, for the two soldiers were armed with swords.

Biggs scoffed haughtily. "Likewise, you pest! I cannot _be-lieve_ that we meet once again." His eyes darted quickly to Squall, and he smiled big. "It seems one of you is down for the count."

"Even when down, he'd still beat your ass, you prick!"

Quistis and Selphie exchanged worried glances and prepared for the worst.

"You callin me a prick, when your the punk-ass bitch responsible for my demotion!!"

"And mine, too!" Wedge shouted weakly.

"Shut up, Wedge, there's not much of a pay gap between private and buck seargant in this force. Not like from major to leiutenant!"

"Ha!" Zell laughed. "You're the lowest officer now?"

Biggs stomped his foot on the ground. "You punk! That's not something to laugh at!"

Squall watched the scene play out and then caught the attention of a Moomba. The fiery creature prodded the fallen tortuer aide's magnum pistol into Squall's hand. He hid it from view and waited for an opening.

"Whatcha gonna do about it!" Selphie suddenly chirped up.

"Yeah, whatcha gonna do about it? Huh!" Zell shouted loudly.

The soldiers stared at the fiery group of SeeDs and seemed very worried. Biggs stuttered, "The c-command here h-has hired us to scope out the prisoners h-here. P-Plus, the Galbadian Knight here has ordered a tr-tripling of staff to take effect im-immediately."

"The Galbadian Knight? Who the fuck is that!"

Quistis thought she saw Squall grimace from the statement.

Biggs and Wedge brandished their swords and answered the question with two quick swipes. Squall wanted to raise the gun but a wave of nausea hit him again, and the Moombas held him back. The soldiers hit air and doubled back, swiping violently at Zell. Without her nunchaku, Selphie did the next best thing and did a spiral kick straight into the private's kidney. Wedge went down to one knee and dropped his sword. Selphie caught the handle, and then Wedge tried to wrestle with her. Being as weak as he was though, he was losing to the girl.

Quistis joined the fray after Biggs sent a walloping hit to Zell's left shoulder. Unlike Wedge, the officer was furious at the rapport these punk-ass kids were giving him. He ducked under her swing and then punched her in the gut, knocking the breath out of her. Zell hit back square in the man's face, knocking off his helmet and revealing his bald spot. Yet, once again, Zell received a hit to the balls and Biggs backed up in a corner. Selphie pried the sword out of the weak private's hands and then kicked him hard in the stomach. Both men backed into the corner and eyed the three tired SeeDs closely.

None of them saw Squall stand up. He released a Magnum bullet straight into the gut of Biggs, who doubled over. Squall quickly expelled the empty casing and loaded another one in. Wedge raised his hands up high, but Squall nonchalantly blew the man's head off. He expelled the empty casing and stood there silent and cold. The bloody and blackened loincloth hung loosely on him, and some of the rich paleness of his skin had seeped through the veneer of dried blood and pus that covered him head to toe. Admist the hurt and pain, he stood defiantly strong and proud. His three companions could do nothing but stare in awe, and the Moombas started fist-pumping in the air and shouting Laguna over and over.

The Squad Leader sighed. "Enough of this softcore bullshit. It's time to get out of here!"

"Damn right!" Zell shouted.

Squall looked at the soldier's swords and then at the chamber of the Magnum and remembered the interesting article he had read in the February issue of _Weapons Mon Monthly_. An article about how to assemble gunblades. He wasn't a master craftsman, but he hated the thought of forking over thousands of gil for a blade. True, gunblades were extremely rare weapons, but still. He walked briskly over to Bigg's sword and then took Wedge's from an awestruck Selphie. He liked the private's better, because the length was longer. _He must've been compensating for something_, he mused. With a quick flick of his wrist, he popped out the bolts of the gunchamber, and the assembly fell apart from the barrel. He caught the hot chamber in his palm and did not wince at the heat. He placed the assembly on the hilt of the sword, and then brought the chamber right square in the open hole. The warmth of the chamber's metal sinewed with the sharp white blade, and he then placed the screws back in its original spots. The makeshift gunblade was rickety as hell and wouldn't survive long after five or so gun triggers, but he didn't have any Mesmerize liquid and he didn't give a fuck. It was time to go.

He waved the gunblade around in a circle to get a feel for it and then looked over to the fallen aide. He hoped they were the same height and weight.

He was right on the height but wrong on the weight. The brown shirt was tight on his chest, and the dark green pants were a little constricting on his valuable spot. The dark brown boots fit well, even if they were sweaty. He looked at the black derby and slowly set it just right on his head. He grabbed the small cartridge of bullets and hooked them in the belt.

The Moombas cheered some more and scurried out to tell the others. His friends looked at him in wonder and knew that he was feeling loads better.

"Hey, Squall," Zell asked.

Squall turned slowly to face him. His skin was still stained, but he looked better than ever. "What is it?"

"Why are these guys calling out Laguna's name?"

_They called me that._ "I have no idea."

"It's like the only thing they've said to us," Selphie said.

"It's all they've said to me, too."

"AH!"

They turned to see Biggs wincing in extreme pain in the corner. It wasn't too long for him to bite the bullet. While Zell and the girls looked on in horrified surprise, Squall regarded him with indifference.

"You little brats.....you... cannot.... escape here. Only.... once.... has _anybody_.... es-escaped.... here!!!!" He clicked a button on his hip before passing out into oblivion onto the floor.

A loud klaxon rang out in their ears, causing Zell, Selphie, and Quistis to panic. Squall, though, was really quite bored. He knew the platoons would find them eventually. If it had to be early.... then, he had a nasty surprise for them. To his friend's surprise, he walked out of the tortue chamber, his tight shirt pressing hard on his chest, and he gazed at the three-man squad of soldiers running up the steep incline. He flipped the improvised gunblade in a sharp clicking circle and fired a deadly Magnum bullet off the white blade. The bullet burst the guts of two of the soldiers wide open, with the shockwave elevating the third soldier and spilling him over the donut hole down to his death fourteen stories below.

Zell waved his hand in front of the girl's faces and said, "Let's get the hell out of here!"

The Moombas watched as the humans crawled out of the tortue chamber to take on the flood of troops. Several of them could see down the donut hole large squadrons of them coming. The loud klaxon had subsided, and by now the prisoners were wondering what the hell was going on. The Moombas could also see that the anti-magicka field connectors were fast changing colors. From yellow to orange to red. A small noise emitted from the cables, and then the red color cooled to a dim blue then to purple and then finally to green. The Moombas looked at each other and realized what was happening.

Two soldiers scaled up the thirteenth floor stairs and then jumped in a somersault over the incline. Zell, though, knew of their plan and somersaulted himself. He was by far the superior martial artist, and he rocketed them backwards with a devastating kick to their stomachs and down the donut hole. Squall expelled the empty casing, and warped the blade again sending a second deadly bullet in a twisting arc killing four guards ascending the thirteenth floor stairs. The girls, weaponless and magic-less, sat hunched against the protective wall covering on the donut hole and waited for the action to subside.

"How do we get out of here?" Quistis yelled above the racket.

Squall and Zell's attacks had taken out a platoon, and more were swiftly attempting to get their way up the vault. The crane was up by the SeeDs as well as the control panel, so they had to use the old-fashioned method of running feet and staircases.

"Squall! Did you come here as Laguna in the dream world?" Zell asked.

"No, I was him in something. But it looked like a small village instead."

"Dammit, that won't help. Then, how did you get all the way up here?"

Squall pointed to the farthest end of the floor at the crane. "That crane over there. It carries a detachable cargo hold from anywhere in the prison and then brings it up here."

"You think we can use it?"

"Maybe, if you know how to work the controls." He craned his neck, found an advancing guard, and rocketed a bullet straight at his feet sending the body flailing backwards. The sword felt flimsy when he brought it down, and he saw the screws coming loose.

"Ward did," Zell thought suddenly.

"You were Ward in the dream world this time?"

"Yeah, he was a janitor here."

"Then, what? You know how to work it?"

"Possibly. I'll have to check. If I remember correctly, it's in the back. Hop aboard and I'll check it out."

"Wait a minute!" Quistis yelled. "All you've got is your fists. What if you get swarmed?"

"Fists are all I need, baby! No need to worry about me!"

"Then get to it," Squall snapped. "I don't think they'll be sending just one or two people at a time for long."

"Right, I'll go see if it's workable!"

Zell hurried farther up the steep incline past the tortue chamber and into the maintenance room. He found it empty and full of computers. He shrugged off the adrenaline rush as best he could and searched in his mind for an answer to the problem. If he remembered correctly, it was a bright blue box. Ward had swept and mopped in here before, and on special occasions he had the priviledge of operating the crane to take prisoners up and down. Zell looked around and found a bright blue box on the wall. A new spot, for in the dream it was on a table. He crossed his fingers and smashed it open. Lots of levers greeted him, and he fist-pumped the air. "Back in business, baby!"

* * *

Squall and the girls could see not just guards but heavy metal robotic creatures ascending the flights below them. Several of the robots saw their small specks above and started spraying bullets against the inner wall. The three SeeDs avoided the spray and entered the crane cargo hold. The front end was different from the back end Squall had remembered coming in. It looked like a cockpit to a plane, and Squall frowned at the mess of buttons, levers, and switches before him. He hated complicated machinery.

Static surprised him, and an intercom linked on. "_Squall! Squall! Can you hear me?"_

"Loud and clear, Zelly!" Selphie shouted jumping up and down.

_"There's a small problem."_

"What?" Squall asked.

_"The wires have been cut. The crane's arm function seems to be unworkable."_

"Well, great. We'll have to take them head on."

_"I was afraid of that. I'm coming out to join you._"

"Coming out to meet you."

"Great," Quistis said, folding her arms, "we don't have weapons, and your's is falling apart."

Squall reloaded his flimsy gunblade. "We'll take them on regardless."

"Are you floating on a cloud now?"

"I'm always floating on a cloud."

Loud, unsettling noises greeted them outside and they ventured out to find a couple of robotic creatures staring them down with gun sights primed.

"No!" Selphie whined. "Not so early."

Squall brought the white blade up to a stabbing position and prepared to do a running strike. A powerful gunshot blast bellowed into the side of one of the mecha creatures, totally dismantling its circuits and crumpling it in a pile of static parts against the prison walls. The second mecha turned to the new source and attempted to fire. The gun wielder was an expert marksman, and he quickly expelled the Blitz shell in the Bismarck and fired a second square in the robotic heart of the mecha, obliterating it in a similar fate.

From across the large donut hole, Squall found Irvine Kinneas blowing the smoke out of the chambers and waving at him. The three of them rushed around the ring and reunited with the separated party member. The raven-haired princess was right behind him, and the first thing she saw was Squall's soiled face and stiff body. Both she and Irvine recognized the extreme pain their Squad Leader had been put through.

"You're alive," she said.

He gave a slow nod and secretly said the same thing in his mind.

"You're alive, too, Rinny," Selphie said. The pet name seemed to make Rinoa smile a bit.

"Yeah.... she is," Irvine said, carefully splicing his words. "Courtesy of me, of course."

"What, courtesy of your escort?" Zell asked, rushing up to meet the gang at the corner of the staircase.

"Y-Yeah..."

Rinoa pushed him aside. "Listen to this. My father pulled some gimmick with the Sorceress herself, and he ordered _me and only me_ out of here alive."

Squall grunted, and the others did as well.

"Yeah, that's what I think too! And this guy here--" she yelled pointing at Irvine, who was now fidgeting, " he came to get me, _and only me!_"

"N-Now wait a minute!" he tried to explain.

"Pah! Isn't that horrible? He escaped from the mass capture and went co-conspiring with my father knowing you all were in danger!"

"What?" Zell shouted.

"Yes!" Irvine's shout scared the whole of them, and he had to calm himself down before speaking again. "What she said is true, and it's not exactly pleasant to hear, but I didn't leave with her and I didn't leave you. And I'm not going to, no matter how much you all might distrust me." He reached into his coat pocket and fished out the Morning Star and the Slaying Tail. "Zell, someone pawned off your Mavericks."

"None to worry about, Irv," the brawler beamed, "my fists are as strong as steel."

"Rinoa's got your magic gems. Including the GFs. I must warn you all, though. Things are about to get nasty in here."

"We can't use magic in here, Irvy," Selphie noted.

"You will shortly if my guess is correct."

"Whatdya mean?" Zell asked.

"Things are--" Rinoa began.

A spray of bullets ringed across the donut hole and slammed hard against the protective covering in front of them. A loose section passed through and slammed into Squall's left shoulder. He grunted and knelt to one knee, elicting shrieks from the girls and worried looks from the guys. A group of soldiers and mechanical assailants had flung ropes up onto the fourteenth floor for a quicker access point and had hauled themselves up to the top. Now, they all unloaded a barrage of bullets. The assault was heavy and thick and none of them could move an inch from their spots. The assault team slowly started ringing around the perimeter, massacring the wall behind the party.

Squall heard a lull in the fire and thought up something crazy. Clicking a fresh bullet in the chamber, he darted forward and swung the blade in an arc, hitting the trigger in mid-swing. The trick was difficult to pull off, but he hit the trigger at the right moment. A flash of light blurred their vision momentarily, and a crisp Magnum bullet flew off the blade and shot straight down the diameter of the donut hole and straight into the power booster of one of the mechas. The robot exploded in the center of the group and dismembered each of their bodies in one fell swoop. Blood and fried circuits sprayed out in a nasty arc in a wide berth.

The makeshift assembly quivered and fell to pieces, shaving off bits of metal from the blade and rusting the hilt. The group was astonished by his actions that had temporarily quelled the sharp uptick of violence, but they were even more astonished and worried about the the embedded shard of metal in his left shoulder. He pawed at it and felt a sharp instance of pain, something that he seemed to be quite familiar with. They heard a squawk and a clacking of claws on the metal floor, and they turned to see a large group of Moombas race towards them with some more essential potions. They studied Squall's injury closely once again, and in one quick move expelled the nasty shard with an intricate swipe of a paw. Immediately, some liquid was thrown on the gaping hole, and several of the Moombas embraced him in a loving manner. The "reddies" were a very strange bunch.

His friends looked on with puzzlement at the scene and then more astonishment when the Squad Leader looked better than he did before, albiet quite exhausted. They saw him look at his ruined blade and knew that he was thinking of a plan B.

However, all of them, humans and Moombas, had become aware of a loud ticking sound rattling inside the cable connectors. They saw that the anti-magicka fields were a very bright green, and the liquid was melting the encasing of the cables so much that steam was enveloping around them. Irvine signalled for them to immediately hit the deck, and they did just as the steam hit its high point.

The fourteen story cable within all three vaulting towers split at the seams, and a massive burst of bright green plasma exploded in all directions, splattering the walls on all the floors and even on the ceiling of the prison and the floors as well. The plasma carried with it an intense microcosm of energy that created a small sonic boom, knocking out every glass object in the prison and even blowing off huge chunks of metal wall. The humans, Moombas, and mechas roaming each of the floors were blown back into the outer wall hard from the blast, and the entire structure of all three towers caved and heaved against its support columns. The top of the columns twisted inward and fell to the center, collapsing against each other and resting precariously twelve stories above the desert floor. The transport deck atop three rows of support railings quivered under the massive pressure and fell onto the stack of three towers threatening to topple down to the ground. Several of the aerial cabbies took off, fleeing with petrified expressions on their faces.

The disruption from Irvine's previous tinkerings had plunged the entire prison's infrastructure into overdrive and consequent meltdown. The enormous crane on the opposite side of where they lay heaved at the impact of the blast, and the support arm broke in two large pieces dropping the massive cargo hold straight to the bottom of the tower. At such high g-forces, it crashed through the floor and hit the boiler room damaging several fuselages and erupting a massive fireball that sent flames up into the fifth story. The southeastern tower rocked slightly off its foundation and scratched the other two dislodged towers, threatening to fall in a gigantic heap all along the desert.

Guards lucky enough to stand up for a few minutes attempted to alert the facility with another klaxon call, but the controls were smashed to bits. The anti-magicka field was destroyed, and so was the security system. The guards aware of this let out a despondent sigh.

Squall and his comrades recognized a great danger when each of the cell doors caved open, falling straight onto the messy floor. The cages were no doubt disconnected and scattered on the floor themselves. Out walked every inmate, surly and timid alike. Some looked too far gone to resort to logical reasoning, and they slowly surveyed the entire field around them. Some looked incredibly unsettled in their now more serious predicament, and they made the first move to flee the compound. The deranged and easily excitable prisoners unsheathed improvised knives and daggers from the insides of their cloaks and began mercilessly hacking anything in their path. Squall and the others watched as a massive prison riot erupted; given the horrible, precarious position _everyone_ was in these inmates were on the brink of setting the entire prison spiralling to the ground with their frantic motions. Every little jarring movement could be felt by the distinct sounds of the three towers's frames rubbing against each other.

The prison staff and their robotic counterparts ignored the SeeDs for the moment and frantically began obliterating the battling prisoners. The six young adults watched helplessly as several mechas fried a dozen prisoners with a huge spasm from a pulse cannon, and several guards decapitated and maimed several more prisoners. Some of the more muscular prisoners easily maimed and butchered several of the guards, taking considerable time out to eat the corpses that littered the floors. Some prisoners even got gutsy and tackled several of the mechas, clamoring to dismantle the wirings controlling them.

A shrieking whine alerted the six youths behind them, and they saw a bug-eyed prisoner with a snake-like scar on his cheek slobber his way frantically to them with a sharp serrated dagger clutched in his hand. He was running fast. Selphie grabbed her nunchaku from Irvine and inserted a bright yellow gem containing powerful Thundara offensive. The added magic created an exhilirating junction rushing throughout her body when she gripped the blunt Morning Star, and she shot the weapon out from her hip connecting with the stomach of the deranged lunatic. At the point of impact, a short burst of electrical energy consumed his body and fried him on the spot.

"Yes!" she screamed excitedly, unaware of the apparant murder she had just committed. "Magic works in here now!"

"Told ya didn't I?" Irvine said, defiantly, loading a full chamber in his Bismarck.

Quistis carefully inserted several magical orbs into her whip. Her Slaying Tail now contained a plentiful use of thunder, fire, and poison artillery to keep more than a few prison inmates at bay. "Did you junction magic to your strength?"

"Yes," the spunky SeeD replied," and my magical skills." She closed her eyes and smiled big. "I can feel it coarsing through my veins right now."

"Yo!" Zell yelled. "I want some too."

"You need a weapon, silly."

He frowned at that, then thought of something better. "Give me Quetzacotyl. That fucker could fry the shit out of these people!" He smiled as the thunder god's gem was thrust in his hand. The bird could be seen floating around inside of it, and he felt its energy fiery in his palm.

A loud scream caught their attention downwards to about the ninth floor or so. A prisoner had leapt the back of another and had plunged his teeth into the throat and ripped out every vein living there. Far below them, more flames were appearing as well the sounds of small popping explosions erupting further below.

Squall rose painfully to his feet, and the others did, too. They were depressed to see that the majority of the Moombas had died in the blast, and the ones still alive were barely holding on. They had no strength in their bright red bodies, except for the mitochondria which they possessed. Unfortunately, they were too weak to cure their ailments and one by one they slowly faded into the black. The humans saw bright lights appear beneath their corpses and something of a twinkle shining in their placid eyes. It was as if they weren't really dead but merely playing the part.

The Squad Leader took a moment to mourn the loss of the reddies, and then he motioned them to huddle together.

"Does anybody think we should go up or down?" he asked.

"The lobby is downstairs," Rinoa said. "There's an exit down there."

"But there's fighting going on all over there!" Zell yelled, admist a great explosion from a friendly fire attack by a Galbadian solider upon a mecha. The explosion rocked the structure to a new breaking point by blowing out a clear hole in the eight floor. Prisoners began crawling toward the opening and throwing themselves out in the desert blue.

"We need to think of something fast, guys," Squall said.

"We got magic now," Selphie said, a manic glee in her eye. "We can blow this place away."

"No!" Rinoa cried. "There are activists here. Antagonists of the Galbadian government."

"In this mess?" Zell asked. "No fucking way!"

"Yes, you dummy! This is where Deling had sent them."

"Rinoa," Quistis said, "we can't save anyone here. There's not much time left for us!"

"She's right," Irvine said looking upwards. "I've got an idea."

"It was _your_ idea to blow up the reactor down there!" the princess snapped, before she could stop herself.

"What?!?" Zell shouted, standing up, then sitting back down quickly when a guard spotted them and started firing in their direction. Irvine fired a responding shot and missed. The guard fired another shot and hit the wall a foot above Quistis's head. Irvine shot a second time and missed, while Squall took a Fira spell from Selphie's grasp and summoned a burst of flame from his palm with the transient effect of a flamethrower straight up the stomach of the guard. The guard fidgeted frantically where he stood, allowing Irvine to blow his brains out with a well-placed shell.

Zell continued, "_You_ caused all this green goo damage?"

"My plans are always foolproof in some way," Irvine said sheepishly. "And this one is no exception."

Selphie seemed to like that, because the previous explosion had formed a big grin on her face. Quistis only sighed and shook her head. Before the other two could reply, Squall addressed the coy cowboy. "What do you got?"

"There's a transport dock on the roof of the tortue chamber. It goes to Watchman's Kneed, an outpost on the northern ridge of the desert. A perfect spot to recuperate."

"What's this transport dock?"

"It's a taxi-like depot, except the cabbies are mechas. They're big enough to carry a dozen people at a time. It's what carried you all here from Deling City. We should be careful, though, and quick. The towers are about to fall, I can feel them."

"Then let's get the fuck out of here!" Squall shouted abruptly and stood up. Not giving them a chance to think things through, he led the way up the steep incline to the tortue area, ignoring the rocking movements of forceful explosions and jarring bodies.

Zell then stepped in front of the gunblader with a twinkle in his eye, following a precise intuition garnered from the confounding dream world. He could envision the view from Ward's eyes, and he led up a couple more inclines into the control room. Searching for a specific place out in no particular planned area, he smacked a fist against a spot on the wall and a secret passageway opened up. It was cold in the annex, and the pathway twisted in two right angles before emptying into a large medical laboratory. Drugs, both medical and illicit, were seen brewing on the counters next to each of the walls with tubes of questionable liquid running through them.

A bullet grazed his shoulder, and the brawler stumbled forward. Squall grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back behind cover before a hail of bullets sliced the tattooed boy's frame into swiss cheese. Deep-throated calls bellowed from the crouching soldiers, and one threw a pineapple cluster the SeeD's way. Squall rushed everyone back, but the incredible blast blew huge chunks out of the wall and knocked everyone off their feet. The soldiers barrelled through to seek and destroy.

Quistis was the first to get up, unsheathing her bladed whip in the process. Breathing slowly and calmly, she waited for the first grunt to appear and she flicked the weapon sharply out and caught the man in the neck. An itchy trigger finger caused the soldier to blast his partner's frame running up behind him in a vertical clip, spraying blood everywhere. The former instructor plucked out the Slaying Tail from the man's neck popping a couple of veins out of the flesh. A third soldier pulled out a combat shotgun and blew a strong buckshot against the corner of the wall, smashing bits of pieces into Quistis' frame knocking her against the opposite side of the wall.

Shock was eminent among the group, and each of their ears were ringing. Irvine knew, though, that there looked to be about six more guards in the drug room, and each of them were firing at the wall of their cover. Another shotgun blast blew a large hole above them, covering Squall and Zell with plaster. Irvine cocked his gun ready, jumped to his feet, and fired a tremendous shot at a drug heater. The hit blew it up, singing five of the six guards instantaneously. The immense shockwave ripped through the entire lab and shattered each of the vials in the room and the lights on the ceiling. With the room plunged in darkness, the remaining soldier pulled out his assault rifle and ran forward firing maniacally. A hit whacked Irvine's right shoulder and left calf, genuflecting him to the floor. A large spray stopped Squall from a running stab. The soldier expelled an empty clip and hastily inserted a new one while rounding the corner. Zell gritted his teeth and did a swinging back kick straight into the shins of the running guard. The weapon dropped, and Selphie leapt up and fried the bastard with a quick spell of Thundara. Rinoa applied some Cura magic to everyone hurt, and Squall thought he saw an aura of light emitting from the back end of the wall.

He gripped Zell's collar angrily. "Is there an exit in this hell?!"

The brawler wrenched away from him. "In the back is a final set of stairs. Ascend those and you'll see the skyline clear as a bell."

"Great Eden, I hope you're right."

"Think we can take a couple of these snows, Mr. Squall?" Irvine said slyly, as he surveyed the laboratory around him. He had taken the brightest magical gem and was using its emanating glow to see an opaque luminescene of all the shattered recreational activities.

"Will you ever stop?" Rinoa snapped, her green eyes shining brightly.

"Hey, after this debacle, _anything_ sounds good right now!"

"How about gay prison sex?" Zell asked, as they started walking. They could feel shattered glass and broken bits of plaster under their feet.

"You know, Zell. I don't think that sounds very fun."

Squall snatched the orb from the cowboy's hand and took out Ifrit's gem. For some reason the Fire Prince was a little annoyed, and his gem was shining really brightly. The GF was probably pissed because nobody was calling upon his services; well, what is one to do if one is stuck in prison?

He brought both gems up together and created a strong glare of reddish-tinged light that flushed across the entire space of the lab. The place was thoroughly smashed, burned, and bloodied up, but there was a way out in the back just as the brawler had said. He figured he would have to one day cut the guy some slack instead of dogging him and doubting his knowledge all the time.

Of course, now was not the time for that.

He made sure the slick white sabre was firmly in his hand. Although it wasn't an official gunblade he knew how to do some serious damage with it. He wondered vaguely what kind of extra security force was being sent to meet them, but they were almost out of the hell, and that was all that was on his mind. He led them up the final set of stairs and across one final stretch of hallway to a barricaded door. A heavy bar had been lodged into the hinges preventing any exit or entrance. Squall and Zell tried to pry it open, but Irvine just pulled them aside, loaded an extra kick of Blitz shells in his chamber, and fired the bolts off the side panel. The heavy bar clanked on the floor, and Squall kicked the door open.

They were met with a heavy glare of light and a blast of hot air so powerful that all six of them caved in their spot.

It was so intense that they couldn't make any normal movements, except to shield their eyes(which was rather useless at the moment) and for moving just slightly forward. Irvine was the least bit affected, having just arrived at the prison for that day only, and he was able to see his surroundings before they could.

He wished he hadn't.

The timing would be extremely short. He grabbed all of them as best as he could and forced them back into the hallway before the mortar shell collided a few feet to their left. The explosive shell shattered the roof of the southeastern loading dock, sending damage plunging down into the tortue chamber and then caving down into the donut hole severing several fighting mechas and sending richocheting wall panels straight into the guts of fleeing people running down each flight of stairs. The force of the explosion shook the foundation to a hair's breadth of fully coming apart. The tower crept far lower underneath the other two pressuring vaults, causing the main transport deck to slip and slide on its flimsy foundation. The cowboy knew the timing was very short.

Outside in the desert, police sirens and mecha klaxons were shrieking. Whatever fired the mortar was preparing to launch a second one. Squall's eyes got better the fastest, largely by ignoring an incredible water build-up splitting between his squished eyelids.

They were high up, of course, but that was the least glaring thing. The towers were almost done for, and all three were significantly warped from the destruction of the anti-magicka field. Various side panels in the northern tower, which looked to be the walls of some of the cells, were gutted and virtually exploded out in a hollow fashion. The southwestern tower was shackled in numerous exploded walls, and several inmates were slaughtering each other and diving out of open cell sides all the way to a nasty death below. The three towers were hooked at their bases by a massive drill pad that been warped and damaged by the massive sonic boom the anti-magicka field had emitted, and the three towers now grated uncomfortably against each other instead of being connected by rail pathways to the transport deck. A couple of nervous robotic cabbies were still stuck ontop of the deck as it was slowly sliding off the severed connectors. The most horrible thing the Squad Leader saw though was what lay underneath the tangled tops of the towers. A small bit of succubus energy was glowing in a bright green ball, loosely spinning unattached to anything. It looked liable to be detonated: the next horrible thing to occur most likely to the facility. He and the others gave a quicker look further down to the rough desert floor and saw many prisoners attempting to escape, but many more turning instead to battle the prison staff. Blood was flying everywhere, as a nauseating draw was billowing up between the dueling sides. The huge mecha arming mortar shells was their biggest concern, though, and the gunblader hastily got to his feet and plotted a quick route.

The guys hauled the frightened girls up and carefully followed Squall out into the open and along the rickety dishevled railing from the southeastern tower over to the southwestern. The railing connecting to the northern tower was destroyed and led only to a nasty plunge below. The northern tower offered a far easier access to the transport deck, being that it was ontop the other two at the moment. Their movement on the railing threatened to put new holes in the metal scaffolding, and they had to walk excruciatingly slow.

They were three-quarters of the way to the southwestern tower, when a distinct click sound occurred loudly far below them, and they watched as the mecha shot a second mortar shell. The blast severed completely the connectors holding the railing to the southeastern tower, and that vault blew the top off of that tower. Where they had been standing just minutes before, that roof deck melted off and the top of the southeastern tower crumbled to the ground below. The blast affected the rest of the complex. The other two towers sunk lower with the absence of the southeastern support and threatened to crumble all the way down as well. However, the southeastern tower gracefully saved the complex from complete dismantlement; the other two towers rested with a jolt on the stubby jagged edge of the ninth floor. Bits and fragments of metal missed thankfully the spinning ball of succubus energy, and the railings holding the towers together remained stressfully connected. The six of them collapsed on the southwestern tower and watched their travailing walkway shatter completely and crumble to the earth below. The decreased weight shift twisted the tower they were on around in a circle, came off its foundation, and crashed into the northern towers again, resting flimsily at a roughshod sixty-degree angle. Rinoa and Zell almost slipped off the steep incline, and Irvine was having trouble keeping his footing.

The succubus energy was shifting its green colors into a much brighter tone. Squall figured the explosion would not be too far away at the moment. He cursed aloud, surprising the others, for one of the robotic cabbies had had enough and had flown off the transport deck. They saw its great wingspan billowed out and grasping the wind beneath. The second one was still clinging to the deck, a look of fright on its face.

The mortar-firing mecha below unsheathed its short-range missiles and heaved a great sigh. Hydraulic pumps on its back shot up two beams on its shoulders, and a jetpack shot out of its back and lit. Frying unintentionally a couple of police guards, the mecha left the ground and seared the air up towards the fleeing prisoners. No one would again commit a massive evacuation of the prison facility. It happened two decades ago in the first years of ; it would _not _happen again.

Squall heard the noise and saw that the mecha had six arms, each with a nasty-looking scimitar clutched like mad in the grasp. "Damn, it's coming quick!" The mecha shot straight above them and then dove back down. It wasn't very big, but it was agile. Squall flicked his blade out and stopped a devastating hit from his right side. Irvine helped by firing a buckshot in the chest driving it back, and Selphie fired another blast of Thundara in the open wound. The mecha retreated to the stubby edge of the destroyed southeastern tower and prepared a second offensive.

Squall found ample footing on one side of the southwestern tower and motioned for them to follow. The mecha's antics and rappings against the towers were causing the balance to be displaced in the field, and each motion tore away at the hopes of survival. As they scurried up the tattered ledges, the mecha whirled around in a circle and then shot upward with two swords stretched out breaking the connectors grafting the railing from the southwestern to the northern tower. Fully snapped, the railing fell to the desert floor and the towers collapsed further downward grinding the stubby southeastern vault. Stranded atop the open roof of the vault, they crouched face-to-face with the swirling mecha.

Irvine pulled out a piece of rock that looked like quartz. He glanced quickly at the puzzled expressions on his teammate's faces. "This is something called Scan. I got it from your old man, Rinoa. Or, rather, I stole it but that's a matter best saved for later. I've got some other interesting things, too. But I'm gonna use this first." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the mecha was levitating in the air, its jetpack spinning round and round behind it, a lascivious grin on its face.

"What does it do?" Selphie asked.

"Your checking the enemy's weakness?" Quistis asked.

Irvine gripped it tightly and felt the energy flow through him. "Among other things."

"Wait," Zell said, "I thought you didn't utilize magic!"

"How can I refuse it?" He closed his eyes hard, and the next minute his voice was very deep. "_Intelligencia academio!!_" Time seemed to stop for a moment, and both his friends and his enemy saw a swirling blue wave materialize from his brain and swifty travel to the supposed brain core of the mecha. The impact on the mecha's skin caused a glow of light, and something green transferred back and poured into Irvine's skull. The mecha recoiled and became slightly confused giving Irvine plenty of time to distribute the magicka he had stolen from it. "I only use magic I steal. Like from the General earlier today. Check this out."

Squall was amazed at the feat. He had heard about the Scan quartz, an extremely rare find up in the Galbadian canyons, lodged admist the waterfall den in the center oasis. The Scan quartz found out details about your enemy's health, endurance, strengths, weaknesses, and whatever magic it possessed. In this case, what appeared on the cowboy's gunbelt was two bright yellow and green gems.

Quistis recognized them immediately. "Protect and Thundaga." Her voice seemed satisfied.

The mecha was gaining awareness again, and Irvine rejected his protocol against magic use even further by taking the Thundaga gem and siphoning off some of its power. Unfortunately, not being prone to use magic all that often, he mixed up the wordage and zapped his own hand instead. He almost dropped the gem, but Selphie retrieved it, and the mecha sprang forward with a scimitar waiting to strike. The spunky SeeD corrected the mistake and blew it against the mecha. The enemy was in the process of swinging at Squall's head when an unseen force twirled it twice in the air, and a dark cloud appeared above it. A jagged lightning bolt hit the back of the creature and exploded the circuits in its body, severing off two of its six arms. A second unseen force on the heels of the bolt sashayed the mecha into the northern tower, blasting through the wall and out the back end. The second robotic cabby left in fright from the transport deck, and all six humans gasped in fear at the moment. The cabby stayed, though, by the grace of Eden, intrigued by the commotion below it.

Severely injured, the mecha sprang higher and worked on firing its backup engines to perform a third and hopefully successful offensive.

"I've got this one, cowboy," Quistis said, plucking the Protect gem from his belt. "_Prozectio veramboso._" She had to gasp for a tremor ran through her body and a bright blue light encompassed her and then vanished in thin air. Seemingly nothing appeared to be visible, but she felt an immense barricade surrounding her, protecting her. The others were impressed, and she quickly administered one to each of them. She was on to Squall, when the mecha saw what was going on and cut short the backup warming. Not fully functional, it nevertheless zipped down with a more jagged scimitar at the ready. Quistis got the spell going while Squall pulled out his blade and deflected the mecha's thrust. The mecha circled around and thrust a strong uppercut that Squall was able to block but propelled him back slightly. A third strike was coming, and Squall felt the Protect spell filling him. He was not quick enough to deflect the third swipe, and he should've been dead by the hit. Except, the scimitar stopped short inches away from his chest and jammed backwards creating a bright spark that blew Squall backwards and over the edge of the roof. The blue shield of the Protect spell came visible for a moment and rocked the mecha back as well.

Zell grabbed Squall's free hand and held on tightly, as the frantic battle was jarring the tower way too much. The robotic cabbie knew the result was imminent, so it swooped down and glided steadily beneath them. Giving them a look to hurry up, the cabbie waited. Zell let Squall go, and the gunblader fell into the cockpit. The mecha was injured by attacking the protected Squall, and its jetpack was malfunctioning. Zell held Selphie's waiting magic-casting hand down and unleashed the GF Quetzacotyl for a finishing blow. A storm cloud materialized high above the prison, and everyone near the complex looked and beheld the great thunder god spit itself straight out of the cloud and land hard on the transport dock, thoroughly destabilizing it and knocking off Rinoa, Quistis, and Irvine off the ledge. The robotic cabbie reacted quickly to catch them, and Selphie hopped off as well to join them. The thunder god used its high power to keep the towers from falling for a moment, and it just held the steel gaze of the mecha for several moments before spreading its greenish-yellow wings in a sharp snap that cracked the desert skyline for several miles. Squawking a loud and terrible squawk, it craned its head back and developed an electrified ball on its beak. The mecha and Zell were caught up in the beauty of the shiny orb, and Quetzacotyl let it gently fly off its beak but kept it supported before it. It turned to Zell and whispered words in his brain: _Get out little one, before I change my mind._

Zell did not rebuke. He leapt off the tattered ledge onto a seat of the robotic cab, and the cabbie sped off away from the tower. Everybody realized what was happening, for the succubus energy was splitting apart at the same time. Every prisoner, sane or not, fled across the desert along with the guards and mechas as fast as they could. Quetzacotyl laughed a manaical laugh and spat into the ball, shooting the electrical storm at lightning speed into the skull of the mortar jetpack mecha, splitting it instantly down the middle and sending the remnants straight into the heart of the succubus energy.

The three-pronged Desert-District Prison exploded in a fantastic fireball with as much force as an Ultima bomb. The robotic cabbie zipped as quickly as it could, becoming lost in the subsequent sandstorm enveloped immediately following the explosion, before reappearing safely on the other side, Watchman's Kneed plain in sight. The six-man group looked sharply behind them and found that from the desert floor up, a red-orange hourglass-shaped explosion was visible. Fire licked everywhere around the bottom, and dark smoke curled lazily at the top. For at least two miles around the blast, everything looked flattened. The people and mechas who had attempted to flee were most definitely incinerated in the process.

The only one with a glimpse of excitement on their face was Selphie. Explosions were very awesome in her mind, and even despite the harsh circumstances of her current situation, she was nevertheless thoroughly pleased with the end result. Zell sat back on its haunches and gave a resounding sigh of relief. Rinoa let out the same thing and then fussed at all the sand coarsing through her raven-colored hair. Quistis had bloodshot eyes same as the rest of them, but unlike them she neglected to rub them; it had been a long time since she had cared about little things like that. Irvine wondered briefly about the consequences of his actions against Galbadia, Deling, and Westonia, but he eventually decided that being here amongst these five young people was by far better and more exhilirating than anything else he had ever come across. Squall seemed to be the only one angry at the moment.

That was because he knew a little bit about the future.

"We've got a big problem," he said flatly, drawing nervous looks from his friends.

"A _big_ problem."


	14. Operation Silent Kilo

OPERATION SILENT KILO

_Large splinter missiles_

_Torch the sky into fire._

_Burn the Gardens down_

Watchman's Kneed was a one-room waystation run by a bespectacled prospector by the name of Hermann Khan. A bushy wiry bastard, old Hermann had seen a lot of things. Sitting in his usual three-legged chair with the dusty padding on the rickety wrap-around porch that constantly needed repairs from the promiscuous desert termites, Hermann pulled out a big packet of tobacco and his favorite sky blue pipe. The slick whisper of the match sliding sharply against the handle was music to his ears, and the fluffy black tar resting comfortably in the bowl was a sweetner to his lips. He sat there now, with his feet propped up, and he lit the fucking pipe and tossed the spent match away.

He felt the pipe press against his lips hard as well as the sudden tenseness of his vest, when the sonic boom rapidly whiplashed the desert floor. A huge duststorm immediately whipped itself up in a frenzy, and a tall reddish-orange hourglass formed up above it.

He had been staring at the usual sight from his porch, the Desert-District Prison No. Five.

He slowly took the pipe from his lips and strangely did not care that some of his tobacco spilt out onto the porch. The hourglass was amazingly beautiful, a wonderful replacement for that ridiculous hunk of towering metal that was formerly the prison. The damn thing was too big. Too tall. And yes, too evil. He knew what went on inside, and he had sent in that really young fellow in the cowboy suit. He didn't quite approve of the message, but the young man seemed defiantly determined to get a hold of someone there.

His ears were reminded of a loud barking from inside the Kneed. The cowboy had left some dog behind him, some stupid animal he had said belonged to a girl in there. He had half a mind to kick the damn thing in the arse, it was barking too loud. Ah, that incessant barking. He put the pipe back into his vest, whipped out a belt from a barrel, and then slowly got up to administer a swift hit.

However, he was distracted again. One of those fucking cabbies was flying this way. He shielded his eyes and saw six young people atop it, the cowboy being one of them.

"Well I'll be a monkey sonofabitch," his voice croaked. He was an old man, but still quick on his feet and one of those types of cronies who think they can still take on the world at eighty-five years old.

The robotic cabby slicked its hovercraft way through the air and promptly landed gracefully and graciously onto the desert sand. It was no doubt pleased to escape the raging inferno in one piece. Its six occupents quickly got off, and the mecha immediately took off and went back to its Galbadian depot to soup back up.

Irvine wanted to continue the conversation Squall had previously alluded to, but old man Hermann caught his eye. "Hey, old timer! Sa'prised to see me?"

The prospector said nothing but spat out some of his dip. He fidgeted with the belt in his grasp before loosely discarding it to the side.

Zell's gait was slow and warbly, for now he realized his back was hurting. Sprained? Cut open? He didn't know, it just fucking hurt! He crouched down to satiate the pain and noticed all three of the girls felt off-kilter as well. Their Squad Leader was more than likely bushed, he figured, but for some reason the gunblader seemed incredibly diffused in thought. The brawler pulled out his Quetzacotyl gem, but the thunder god had had enough for one day, and it wasn't answering Zell's prayers for relief. How very likely in a time of need.

"Son," the prospector croaked, "I got a right fine med'cine cab'net inside. Help yoself."

Zell jerked himself up and steered toward the door. Opening it, a flash of brown darted out and made a beeline for Rinoa. The brawler cursed in surprise, but the princess shouted in delight. Eyes alit, she hugged sweet ol Angelo til he gave a bark of annoyance from the squeezing.

The cowboy chuckled slightly. "I got your old man to release him. I'd figure you really wanted to see him."

She laughed. "Well, at least you got something right."

Squall sighed rather loudly and left them there with confused expressions. He entered Hermann's waystation and took immediately-in-fact the acrid odor of dust. The place was littered with old newpaper clippings of anarchists, rabblerousers, and defiant vocal powers against the former Vinzer Deling regime; Squall figured the old man was probably a distinguished member of the Timber Socialist Agents. He confirmed that notion by recognizing the signature red ribbon hanging above the deer head mantle.

He saw Zell nervously insert a hypodermic needle in his arm filled with some turquoise liquid-- what the medical quacks called a Hi-Potion, a wonderful little drug liquid that gave the ailed a rousing high while simultaneously curing a large proportion of their injuries, whether burn or cut or infection. He had to grimace, though, for it seemed the brawler was enjoying himself a little too much.

His ears picked up on a telescreen operating near the Kneed's kitchen area. The talking head reporting from the Dollet Dukedom was saying how over the last week, research scientists and humanitarian facilities had been attempting to rebuild the trampled residential areas. It seemed, according to the reporter, that it would be nearly a decade before the commercial and downtown districts would be fully rebuilt. Too much Ultima radiation was infecting the groundwater within. The reporter reverted back to the main HQ in Deling City, where the two pretty female anchors were reporting on the just-recently passed Westonia Patriot Act: "_Events arising from that terrible night now known affectionately as Black Friday have conjured up as a fairly lucrative opportunity for the Sorceress Edea. The attempted assassins of Her Highness are as of this moment within the Desert-District Prison No. Five, where they will undergo significant enhanced interrogation techniques the likes of which have not been administered to previous occupants of the prison before. The Grand Knight, Heir Seifer Almasy, as of this moment has signed into law the provisions of the H.R. 0758 Westonia Patriot Act._

_"Great viewers of Westonia affairs, the WPA will provide for the safety and defense of the Westonian people: all people inhabiting this continent from Deling to Dollet to Galbadia to Timber to Winhill to Kelso. All people against the tyrannical abuses of the SeeD programs of Trabia and Balamb, and against the elusive Centra Coast Guard and the ever-elusive regime of Esthar, whereever they may be. _

_"New developments reporting concerning Her Highness, the Sorceress Edea will officially hold the World Economic Forum at Galbadia Garden. The SeeDs serving there are now thoroughly under her protection and code of honor. Her morning speech today regarding the safety of the Galbadian military and Galbadian citizens was her direct consideration. Her speech this morning also clarified the rumors being spread here in Deling City about the launching of missiles at all SeeD locations. The missiles will be launched. It is 1300 hours, though, and the Missile Launch was supposed to be in effect at High Noon." _ (The co-anchor nudged her shoulder and took the transmitter) "_Reports from Col. Blum report technical difficulties within the surrounding area. However, the two dozen missiles are locked and ready to meet its first destination. Launch should result in precisely five minutes."_ (The lead anchor retook the transmitter) "_Well, then, we'll just have a live feed from the Army's country outpost overlooking the facility. Enjoy the view!"_

"Goddamn fucking jackasses," Squall muttered. _So Seifer was without a doubt for real. That fucking son of a bitch!_

A scream jarred him and Zell, who had dropped the needle without covering up the wound. Selphie barged into the Kneed and looked at the live feed on the telescreen. A gigantic missile base out in the desert was being shown, with active missiles rising on the deck. Not taking her eyes off the screen, she blurted, "What is going on?!?"

Irvine slowly walked in, trailed by a nervous Quistis and Rinoa. Old man Hermann stayed on the porch but kept a keen ear on the conversation. He had resolved all previous doubts about the young motley bunch after seeing that they weren't really hard-nosed criminals after all. Irvine slowly looked from Selphie to Squall and back again. He turned to Squall and sighed, getting his attention. "You said you got bad news, too?"

Confusion lapsed Squall's face. "Too?"

"W-What? " Selphie asked, turning to both the men. "What bad news?"

"There's missiles being launched at Garden," Squall said bluntly.

"WHAT!!!" Zell, Selphie, Quistis, and Rinoa said in unison.

Irvine slowly scratched the back of his head, taking the black fedora off. "Yeah. That's what my bad news was about, too."

"NO!" Selphie screamed. "Why?"

"SeeD is responsible for the attempted assassination," Squall replied. "When Seifer was tortuing me, he explained that Edea wishes it to be so. Not all the SeeDs will die from the explosion, so he in turn will rout them out and execute them as soon as the dust settles."

"Shit," Quistis breathed, raising a hand to her temple and shaking her head slowly. She inadvertantly pictured the massacre taking place in her head and shuddered at the thought.

Zell walked slowly over to where they all stood bringing some healing vials for the girls to use. His eyes were a mixture of blankness and unbelievability. "Don't tell me... our Garden's in trouble?"

"Not just ours," Irvine said solemnly.

The five of them looked at his forlorn face. He gave a discontented sigh. "Trabia's on the rocks as well."

Selphie's eyes fluttered as wide as they possibly could. The brown hues went bright and furious, yet the corners furrowed from the weight of the impending tears. "Trabia? No."

"Yes. They're responsible for reconniasance training and backup support. Edea believes T-Garden may end up holding refugees from Balamb, besides being a treasure trove of ancient knowledge."

"Ancient knowledge?" Zell asked. "How so?"

"They're the ones closest to Esthar. Just about a hundred miles distance and completely surrounded by the great Blue Mountains and the Dragon Forests. Galbadia has long since believed Trabia held the key to unlocking the mysterious invisible gates barring circumspecting access to the metropolis."

"She can't do this," Selphie said softly, small traces of tears beginning to flow.

Irvine turned toward her, and he felt a great figurative rending impose on his heart. He had regarded her pretty brown eyes before at their first meeting as being angelic, and to see them now at the great point of murkiness was a very unpleasant sight. "I don't believe they will stop their plans."

"Did you learn this from that man?" Rinoa asked bitterly, her eyes narrowing at the most recent developments she had heard from the cowboy. The only good thing the General had done was send Angelo back to her; the cute three-year old mutt was excitedly panting at his master's feet and whacking her leg with his tail. The raven-haired resistance fighter recalled Irvine's testament that Carroway had wanted her and only her to be freed-- not out of love or anything, just a way to save his sorry ass from cold-blooded murder. She realized that goosebumps were crawling on her skin.

Irvine looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "You mean, your father?"

"That man? Yes."

He grunted. "Yes, I did. Indirectly, though. I was in the foyer waiting to be sent to this Kneed, when an aide to the Sorceress received him in his study. I'm afraid that the call was an all-or-nothing deal."

"Regardless," Squall chimed in, "we have only one option to do."

"What?" Selphie said, her voice breaking.

All eyes were on him, and he suddenly realized he was treading waters that made him uncomfortable. Their questioning and dependent looks, all five of them, backed him up to a corner so hard that he had to pause before setting forth the rest of his statement. "The only thing we can do right now is go back to Garden as soon as possible and warn the students."

"Ooh boy," croaked the old prospector. Groaning slightly, Hermann relished the bones cracking in his back as he stood up from his chair and addressed the young adults. "You'll never get back to Balamb fast enough on foot. The missiles clock in at five hun'dret knots."

Squall sucked in breath. He hated obvious anomolies like that. "Then, what's the best way to get there?"

"Wat I was about to tell ya there." He pointed a crooked finger to the back of the Kneed, seemingly to some place behind the wall outside in the back lot. "Out there in tha shed, a couple of dune buggies. Nice pieces of work. Should getcha to tha nearest train depot in time."

Squall scratched his chin and nodded. "Sounds reasonable enough. That would be much appreciated."

Selphie whacked the floor with her fist. "They're targeting both Balamb and Trabia Gardens!"

All of them looked at her. It seemed like she was stating the obvious.

She looked up to Irvine and then Squall with some wet bug-eyes. "We have to interfere. We have to stop those missiles!"

"What?" Rinoa asked, startled.

"Selphie?" Quistis inquired, equally startled.

"Preposterous," Zell blurted. A big word like that was not something he would normally say.

Squall looked at her, confused and annoyed. Unlike Irvine, he regarded the wet sloppy treatment around her eyes with a great disdain. Strange that he felt that way, but little subtle things were never a big hit for him. Yet, he found himself wondering why she would bring some confounded thing like this up. Something burned at the back of his mind. Something he had remembered she had said a couple of months earlier.

"Selphie," Irvine was saying, "I truly understand what you are feeling, but this is one of the Galbadian military's greatest assets. You understand?"

"Yeah, but so was the prison. Look at it now!"

"Shit," Zell griped, "I feel like someone tossed me into a fucking meat grinder! If you call that an easy waltz and picnic splatter, then your as loony as the next scumbag in that hellhole."

"We were only in that place because our intelligence was screwed up. But look! We beat the guards, we got some much-needed assistance from a good informant (_she was pointing to Irvine_), and Squall is pretty much the best fighter I have ever seen." She looked towards him, but his eyes were staring off into space. "We can do this!" Her last sentence was engulfed in pleading.

"The Missile Base," Rinoa stated, "like Irvine said is the G-Army's pride and glory. Besides Galbadia Garden, of course. Even if Squall... _is_ an excellent fighter, there's no way we can fight all them and save the Gardens at the same time."

"We could try," Quistis started in, to Rinoa and Zell's surprise, "but I can guarantee it'll be really tough, and we might not make it back alive."

"Then it's a sacrifice for the ones we love back at home," Selphie shouted. Her voice was meaningful, and her eyes were thoroughly wet.

"Selphie," Irvine sighed.

"Dammit!" She gasped at her blurted anger. "P-Please."

"You transferred from Trabia didn't you?" Squall said softly, finally remembering that day he had shown her around the Garden, albiet somewhat reluctantly.

Everyone stared at him, and Selphie took a second before nodding in approval.

"You've got almost a family thing going on up there right?"

"More than that. I've transferred only a taste of what I had there over to Balamb. Please, Squall. I cannot just sit back knowing that Trabia is in danger."

Squall looked at her, knowing and dreading what would come next.

"Decide who's going to the Missile Base!"

The others raised their eyebrows, and he let out a collective sigh. _Easier said than done, you silly girl. How can I make a simple decision like that? Of all the things! What if you die? What if the friends I send with you die as well? How... how could I possibly live with that?_

"Hm."

The party turned to Rinoa, who had sat down next to Angelo and was at the moment rubbing his ears gently to calm the excitable mutt down. She knew the statement was bold and audacious, but she had had just about enough of the Galbadian military. A quick and decisive hit on that horrible weapons palace would be a most delectable success in her book. The Gardens, though, had to be saved. Both Gardens were over water, but the tram system was currently only functional under the Balamb rail system, so that was the first target to warn. And, above all else, she had been getting really impressed with Squall's efficiency and seemingly imperviousness towards pain. The sight of his shoulder being impaled and him not giving a damn about it set her mind in a slight wonder, and she was curious to explore that a bit. "I think we should seriously consider this option."

Selphie brightened a little at the interest.

"Let's take a vote," the princess said over an affirmative bark from her pet. "Squall here will decide on the party and take two of us back to Balamb Garden. I think he should take the best capable ones of us back to warn the citizens about the impending danger. He is our Squad Leader and, thus, the leader of our group."

The gunblader stared at her wide-eyed. _What?_

"Anybody like to change the plan?" She actually had a bit of a smile on her face, and nobody was interested in challenging the plan. She looked at him briefly and smiled inside at the astonished look on his face.

Quistis giggled, causing the others to look at her. "I like that plan. I like it indeed."

_I bet you do,_ Squall mused.

"Squall, you're the leader. What are the teams?"

_I aint the leader. Sorry, y'all._ He couldn't bring himself to utter it, though. With all five of them staring at him, the pressure was more than a little tight.

He was about to respond when a loud klaxon sounded. A one-note alarm, it raced across the entire desert like a wayward spirit run amok. Old man Hermann let out a long trilling whistle that sounded real despondent, and the six young ones raced outside and followed his pointing finger to the southwest expanse. Shielding their eyes, they saw a small fortified complex settled in a crook of dusty brown mountains and the salty glimmering sea in the background. The desert heat was shimmering and rippling the faraway object, but they each saw seven large arrowheads shoot straight out from somewhere within it. Three or four seconds later, an erupting crescendo of their takeoffs reached their ears. They remained silent watching their smoky coattails festoon behind them as they each made a more northerly track to one of the two Gardens.

Selphie immediately crumpled to the hot sand and burst into silent sobs. Zell hid his taut jaw with a clenched fist. Quistis and Rinoa both looked at the coattails in silence, and Squall started looking towards the shed with the supposed dune buggies resting inside. Irvine slowly took off his fedora and swallowed twice before speaking the last of his heavy news. "I... heard they were hitting Trabia first... before attacking Balamb."

The spunky SeeD wasn't feeling at all the least bit spunky. Even though her hands were covered in sand from scratching the dirt beneath her, she ignored it and wiped her streaming cheeks. "Trabia... I'm sorry... I... I couldn't save you in time." She gritted her teeth and breathed in sharply. Her eyes had been closed, and when she opened them the harsh sunlight bit into her wet eyes, and she winced and scrunched them up. Yet, she was reminded of the cruelty of Galbadia and the pain and the suppression and the hard-line foreign policy they had just enacted on something deeply meaningful to her. She got up quickly, startling them, and whirled onto Squall. "We have to do something! And I'm not gonna receive a no for an answer!"

"Yeah, come on Squall!" Zell shouted, hitting his fists together and practically jumping out of his skin at the thought.

Quistis's face lightened. She wasn't about to let Balamb take the next hit. "Squall, who are you taking?"

"Think carefully now," Rinoa added, with Angelo barking and running in circles.

Squall looked at all five of them, slowly, one-by-one. He could see no end to it all, and he could not let himself see another missile attack take place. He slowly nodded to their relief, and he walked slowly in front of them with his hands behind his back and his eyes to the ground.

This was a major decision, difficult to assign, and difficult to accept. Selphie, he knew, would lead the Missile Team while he led the Warning Team. He knew she would make the raid attempt a successful one, even if the odds were stacked against her and him. Yet, where would the other four go? He looked at each of them in turn and hated himself more and more for routing out their capabilities, advantages, and disadvantages. He did not want this, this was Headmaster Cid's job. He was a follower, not a leader. Ever since his graduation into SeeD, he had been forced as the so-called "Squad Leader". What the fuck kind of trick was that? The Timber mission, the reconniassance at G-Garden, Operation Sepulcher, the Witchhunt fiasco, the escape of D-District No 5, and now... this? No, he couldn't take it.

But he had to.

The cowboy was looking at him. An inquiringly impatient look. Squall figured maybe something more. The cowboy had a definite affection for the pretty bob-haired girl, or maybe that was just simple admiration. Either way, despite the chemistry, the odds of better success between them based on Selphie's dogged determination and Irvine's mastery of Galbadian affairs were a tagteam of superiority. Two-thirds of the Missile Team was complete.

Squall looked at the other three. Rinoa was fairly new, an outsider, and an enigma. She was too fucking bubbly, but was that really it? Was that really the correct feeling? If he lost her to the destruction of Galbadia's prized possession, would he ever feel good about that? Wait, why did he fucking think that idea? He gave her a thorough glance with her staring at him. Maybe her green eyes did it, or maybe her boisterous pooch did it, but he decided to keep her on the Warning Team.

Zell and Quistis. A major tough choice. Quistis was smart as a whip and also an enigma for him. He remembered that awkward night after he had passed the SeeD exam and how she had seemingly poured her heart out for him. She was a wealth of extensive knowledge as well on the Galbadian core, having held numerous instructorship training sessions at G-Garden. Yet, he could use that extensive knowledge to make good concessions at Balamb and possibly a truce deal with the Sorceress. Zell was not as smart but definitely a plus to deliver a good smashing with the boot and fist. Of course he was too belligerent, but that was what the Galbadian forces needed right this minute. Of course, his hometown _was_ Balamb. What to do?

He looked between Zell to Quistis and back again.

He closed his eyes, sighed, and made a decision.

"Selphie," he began. He saw her slowly get up and imploringly look at him. "You are the leader of what I will call Operation Silent Kilo. Weird name I suppose, but I want you to be silent and the place is loaded with major kilo bombs. A good way to disrupt, and I'm sure you got a treasure trove of intricate ways to dispatch them."

"Yes, I do, and thank you, Squall." She gave a very big grin, returning to her depressed face a bit of her old cheer. "I have to represent my fallen. I have to be on the infiltration group."

Squall nodded and looked at Irvine. "You will help in as well."

He put the fedora back on and nodded once.

Squall looked at Zell. "It was a tough decision, brawler, but I trust that you will do a fine job as their aide."

Zell smacked his fists together again and saluted his Squad Leader. "You can count on me, sir. I won't let you down."

Squall turned to Quistis and Rinoa. "You two will come with me to Balamb Garden." A curious thought suddenly struck him, and he turned to old man Hermann. "Do you know how long it takes for them to reload for a second strike?"

Hermann spat another round of dip and leaned back against a post. "Y'all's mess wit da prison set them back graciously enaugh. I suspect it'll take two ta three hours for the second strike to commence. They'll also wanta know tha feedback on tha Trabia hit. So, put it around three hours."

"Two to three hours then. We'll return to Balamb and warn Cid and the others." He waited a bit to let their pleasant looks suffice. "Listen up, everybody, this is a mission unlike any other we have ever done. It is neither a request nor an order, it is a mandate. All of us or none of us or some of us could die today. I want _none_ of us to die today, and I intend to have that happen. Selphie, do you have a specific plan in mind?"

"Well, this kind man here who owns the Kneed has allowed us to use his vehicles. So, I figure we take ours and drive it towards the base and look for a chink in its armor."

"Yeah," Irvine chimed in. "I know the layout of the place. I trained there in sharpshooting school several years ago, and on the entire southeastern side is a shooting range facility. An easy access to get into that shouldn't be too much of a problem."

"Once inside," Zell chimed in, "we bust the living shit out of them!"

Squall pointed at him. "Now that right there will get you in trouble."

"Yeah, but, if we're gonna blow the damn place up--"

"Now, wait a minute!" His shout startled them a bit. "First and foremost, stop the missile launch. Avert their target accuracy as much as you can. Do that and get out without being caught. That's all that needs to be done."

"But--"

"If the shit hits the fan, blast your way out. Alright?"

Irvine steadied Zell. "Alright, Squall. Nothing to worry about."

Squall looked at each of the three Silent Kilo members and then stood at attention. They did the same and saluted him, and he returned it. They followed old man Hermann, as he slowly made his way to the planked shed and opened it. Two dune buggies, one bright yellow and the other gray, lay inside. Selphie eyed the yellow one, and the decision was final. Zell and Irvine got inside, and she took one last look at Squall before entering the vehicle herself. He, Quistis, and Rinoa watched as the yellow buggy slowly pulled out and raced across the dunes southwest to the prized possession.

Squall silently prayed a real prayer for the first time in his life. The moment on the slab when Seifer was tortuing him had been one of conceitedness. This time, he was praying for real.

He hadn't the slightest notion if he would ever see them again.

* * *

Silent Kilo crested the sandy dune and found the square-shaped, barb-wired compound known technically as Deling Kilo Sector No. Three and affectionately as the "Missile Base". Brown slabs of cement made up all four walls that sat on a foundation of land roughly twenty acres in total. A sniper's box sat in the front with a bead on the front gate, and a nest of entrance guards hung around the northern perimeter. Most of the base was a drill pad and tracting field for which to pull up the warheads, while the facility itself sat in the center. True to Irvine's word, the shooting range was in the southeast portion of the base and seemingly non-monitored. Of course, there could be no doubt about guards running around inside.

Irvine put a hand on Selphie's shoulder to alert her to a stop. Normally, he always took the wheel of a transportation, but this spunky little chick here was enormously enthusiastic _and_ a good driver. He was as impressed as he could possibly get, and he had to laugh a little at the annoyed expression on her face she gave him for stopping her acceleration. The drive from the Kneed had spent close to an hour on them, and time was of the essence.

"Irvy, what gives?" she asked.

Zell raised an eyebrow at the pet name, but Irvine ignored the look. "The Galbadians have never been the brightest of soldiers. Something about their chain of command really pulled out a lot of the dregs of the barrel. Still, I am quite familiar about their methods and practices."

"Wait," Zell butted in, "is the going going to be too rough?"

"Come on, man. We're going to bust up a missile base. You tellin' me our job's just gonna be going in their, donning some uniforms, and sneaking through all quietly?"

"Then what then?"

Irvine reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a slick ID badge. The signature logo of the Galbadian warhawk symbol coated half of it blood-red. A few lines of numbers ran across it next to a mugshot of himself looking all dapper and clean-shaven.

"That's not exactly making me feel better," Zell said queasily.

The cowboy sighed. "Nothing I say or do is gonna make you the least bit happier, huh?"

"Enough you two," Selphie snapped, "what's this all about, Irvy?"

"They know exactly who I am. I am pretty much the youngest and most respected Galbadian sharpshooter on this continent. I can walk anywhere in there, except the brig. So.... now here's a tricky part... and it requires a lot of good acting skills."

".....What?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Irvine slowly took off his fedora and scratched the back of his head. "Sharpshooters and.... whomever is available... tend to bring in prisoners over here to this Kilo base from the D-District Prison. The prisoners are chained together and formed up in a line at the shooting range. I guess you can figure out what comes next."

"...So?..." Zell asked.

"So, I chain you two together and bring you to a part of the facility that's essential to our plan to stop the launches. I'll make it seem like paperwork is being filled out. Believe me, these guys are a sucker for dirty deeds like that, even when they have to be doing something important like launching missiles."

"Prisoners from D-District Prison?" Selphie asked.

"Yes."

"But that place is destroyed now," Zell shouted. "Totally destroyed!"

"Doesn't matter. In fact, that's even better! Word's probably rippling through the corridors there of the destruction. All people really know at this point is a big thunder GF came down and fucked the place up. Nobody knows the SeeDs escaped yet, and everybody knows I was in Deling City. I'll just craft a story that the SeeDs were partially responsible for the destruction of the prison and that you two were the only survivors. I take you to a private spot in the back, we'll quickly run over some essential material, and then I'll leave to 'fill out paperwork', and then we meet up at... some place I can't remember the name of right now."

"What?" Selphie shouted. "I like the plan, but you got to remember the name."

He gave her a sly smile. "Don't you worry, I've got it all straight."

"I don't like it," Zell said, tight-lipped, and his arms folded across his chest.

"Why not?"

"It seems too rushed and too hopeful. How can you guarantee they'll still treat you kindly even when you were a part of the Black Friday assassination?"

Irvine paused and reluctantly admitted that to himself. He twisted his mouth a bit. "What do you want to do? Have me bust in there with a salvo of big guns and you two rush in there with fire and lightning magicka. We unleash a few GFs and make to torch the place down. Then not only would they summarily execute us, but then they'll make an early smack on the launch and end up blowing away millions of innocent people elsewhere?"

"Of course I don't want that."

"Then fucking shit, man! I sure as hell don't want that either!"

"Boys!"

"I know you're a big fucking Galbadian hotshot, Irvine, but this idea is too loose, man."

"I'm telling you, it's a fool-proof plan."

"Enough you two." Selphie grabbed both of their shoulders and pressed into them hard. "I like _both_ ideas."

"What?" both boys said in unison.

"We are gonna do both plans, but Irvine's first. Zell, I am intent on kicking some ass in there, alright? Irvine, don't set the chains too tight, alright? I don't want to cut myself."

"They're fake chains on the inside, easily manipulable. On the outside, though, the soldiers'll never know the difference."

"Good. Take us in there to... whereever it is back there. Leave, we'll escape. Then, we'll go from there. Stop the launch. Do some other things. And then murder them all!"

Irvine thought the glee in her eyes was... interesting. "Let's not say 'murder'."

"Yeah, alright. _Incapacitate_ then."

He paused. "Right, sure. Whatever."

"What-ever," she sighed happily and restarted the buggy. Zell slowly sat back in his seat and pondered the plausibility of success in this foolhardy mission. Irvine blocked out all those thoughts and set himself ready to give directions to the trucker's depot nearest the shooting range.

* * *

The Deling Kilo Sector No. Three was cement wall on all four sides, but the southern side had a fenced in sub-railing that allowed for oil truckers to top off and deliver their goods. The depot had five filling stations and a couple armed guards packing some major heat patrolling the lot. The shooting range lay adjacent to the lot with several off-duty officers practicing their marksman skills and watching the missile bay room on digital telescreens within.

Irvine had managed to convince the spunky SeeD to get out of the driver's seat and into the cuffs before they came in the sight of the guards. The two "prisoners" were now in their cuffs, and the cowboy slowly pulled up next to a couple trucks. The closest guard shielded his eyes against the glare of the buggy's gleam and gave a terse expression. The submachine gun in his arms, aptly dubbed the G-PK015, was the top of the line in accuracy and firepower, and the soldier was quite curious on whether he would get the first opportunity to squeeze the trigger-- something he had been waiting to do since his graduation from basic training eight months ago. Guarding the Missile Base out in the middle of the Dingo Desert never really called for serious firepower, for hardly anyone knew there was a missile base in the desert.

Irvine shifted into park and slowly got out. He unsheathed the Bismarck and the improvised assault rifle from his trenchcoat and walked carefully in front of the dune buggy. He saw the soldier tense up, but Irvine kept his composure. "Galbadian cadet, sir. No. 33456." He held the two guns at the side, chambers pointing up.

The soldier remained uneasy. "I am not a registry, sir. Put your weapons down and identify yourself."

Irvine sighed and put the guns down, keeping his face locked on to the guard's. He slowly stood back up and brought one hand to his coat pocket. He was aware of two more guards walking cautiously up to the scene each with G-PK015s at the ready. They watched him take out a wallet and then open it. He flashed the distinctive badge, and the forefront guard walked quickly to check it. He smiled then.

"Mr. Kinneas, what the fuck are you doing here?" he laughed. His associates relaxed and laughed as well, lowering their weapons to a respectable level.

"Oh," Irvine said shrugging his shoulders, "I've been around in Deling. Got pardoned by the Sorceress and all that junk."

"Really? Damn. You're one of the lucky ones."

"She wanted the gunblader mostly, and she felt I was a valuable asset to the relief effort."

"Well, let me tell you. She's making good on her promises to curtail G-Garden. Woo boy!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, the SeeDs there have found a way to disattach the Garden and fly it across the landscape. They're wondering if it can go overseas, too."

"Disattach the Garden? How?"

"Shit, like I have any idea. But I think they're going to use it against Balamb and whoever's left from the smoking husk it'll be in two hours."

"Shit, it's gonna take two hours?"

"I know, I know. We'd have it up sooner, but the control panel is malfunctioning again. We've been having some electrical malfunctions after that sonic boom we had earlier."

"From the prison?"

"Yeah! How'd you know that?"

"I was at the Kneed with two of the Black Friday would-be assassins when it happened." He looked in the general direction of the three-pronged tower, or where it once stood. Smoke was still prevalent in the center of a large duststorm. He gestured to the dune buggy. "These two were the only survivors."

All three of the guards looked at the buggy, and the forefront one asked, "The Leader in there?"

"Sadly, no, after the Knight had left, they ended up frying him on the slab. These ones are the nunchaku expert and the brawler. The instructor and the General's daughter were incinerated in the explosion. Sad, but true."

"Damn. Both of them were really hot, too."

"You telling me."

"You gonna let us kill them, Mr. Kinneas?" one of the other guards asked, with a glee in his eyes.

"How about a little interrogation first? Sort of...rough them up a bit?"

"Bring em on in!" said the forefront one.

Irvine saluted and brought Zell and Selphie out, each with mock anger plastered on their faces. The three submachine soldiers had sheathed their weapons now, unfearing any plausible interference. They snickered at the two in chains, and the two behind the main speaking guard exchanged a raunchy joke about the spunky SeeD _and_ about the tattooed SeeD. The cowboy made a bit more showiness by pushing both of them with the butt of the Bismarck, cajoling some guffaws from the three G-soldiers. The three armed men walked off onto their patrol, and Irvine led the "prisoners" into the facility.

It would be good to get out of the hot sun. The tarmac lot was hot like molten lava, and except for the five filling stations there was no shaded areas. The sniper box contained one lone sniper that currently had his sights set to the eastern side of the compound. Irvine walked in front of the chained duo and swiped his card into the reader by the metal door. It swung open hitting the side loudly, and he kept up the act by forcing them roughly through the door.

Zell unthinkingly blurted out, "Goddamn fool, if I wasn't in these chains--"

"Shut up, man, you're blowin the cover."

Zell gritted his teeth and grunted. _This cowboy is a damn fool_.

There was no one in the immediate vicinty or in the nearby corridors. Irvine closed the door behind them, ignored Zell's glaring face, and did a quick mental checkup of the layout of the facility. He had been here probably two dozen times but mostly in the shooting range. He did remember there wasn't a feasible surveillance system throughout the majority. Not even in the missile bay!

Selphie grunted. Silence was definitely not one of her favorite things. "We have to stop the missiles! That's all there is to it, right?"

Irvine did not respond immediately, and she said louder, "Right?"

He sighed. "Yes, that's right."

"How many people are in here right now?"

He tried to remember; it had been a while. "Normally, ten on the tarmac outside, five in the brig, three in the missile bay, and four or five patrolling the halls. Though, since this is a special occasion, almost all of them should be in the missile bay."

"Good! Then, you lead us to the room with the special controls, we mess them up, and then we blow this place to smithereens."

Irvine gave her a look with a sly smile. "I like your attitude, girl, but that might be some hard trudging right there."

"Well, you gonna keep us in chains forever?" Zell asked.

Irvine sighed. "No, but let's just walk around and familiarize ourselves with the place."

"Why? Do you know where you're going?"

"Of course I do. Just need a little refreshing, that's all."

"Yeah, right."

Noticing a guard's shadow appearing on the side of a wall, he prodded him in the back. "Come on, Mr. Tattoo. Get a move on!"

The brawler was just about to curse when he caught sight of the armed smiling guard, and he resorted back to the act again. The guard waved cordially to Irvine, as the cowboy prodded the "prisoners" down the hallway and down a flight of stairs.

The lighting in the room was warbly and vague. Slits in the ceiling were illuminated with greenish-yellow bulbs that emitted a piercing shriek from the copious amount of energy ingested in them. Two doors lay at the bottom of the stairs, one to the missile bay and the other to the brig. A special card key was needed for the brig, but Irvine had one for the regular door, and he swiped it through. They could hear a low throbbing sound churning behind the door, and they could only speculate what lay behind it. When the door opened, the sounds were louder and grating. Shadows moved ominously against the glares on the wall.

They entered onto a narrow catwalk. Down below, a rack of warheads red-ringed and yellow-tipped were pulling forward on a set of electrical tracks. It came from the storage facility and was running slowly into the bay. Each missile seemed to be roughly fifty feet long, three feet around, and loaded with about twenty times more capacity than a typical Ultima bomb the world's navies utilized. Selphie looked down at the rack and pictured them hitting her Trabia Garden, pictured them flattening that beautifully carved academy and flattening the beautiful forests surrounding it. She wanted to cry again, but now was not the time. She was slightly surprised at the anger flowing through her veins, and she secretly delighted in it.

Loud footsteps on the catwalk alerted all three of them to an unarmed guard walking from his guarding position. He was capless, being indoors, and he was holding a clipboard stacked with yellowed papers under his armpit. "Mr. Kinneas, it's been a while, sir."

Irvine saluted, and the guard nodded his head. "Taking some prisoners from the D-District."

"Oh my, that place is gone once again, you know."

"Yes, unfortunately."

Zell fought hard to suppress a grunt.

The capless guard looked the two chained SeeDs over closely. "Hey, are these the SeeDs who threatened the Sorceress last month?"

Irvine copped a smile and said, "Yep. These are the ones. Well... two of them at least."

"Goddamn fucking jackasses," the guard said, spitting at their shoes. "You should thank your lucky stars she didn't kill you outright back then."

Zell's nostrils flared, and it was all it took to keep him at bay. If the cuffs weren't on his wrists right now....

Selphie looked bored.

The guard continued. "What were you planning to do with them, good sir?"

"Well... it was sort of thrown on me back at the Kneed, and I--"

The guard snapped his fingers. "I've got a perfect solution! Send them down to the missile bay, and see if you can put them to work. Always like to see those fishheads worked as serfs before you nail em in the head, know what I mean?" He nudged Irvine in the stomach, snickering to himself.

Irvine nervously returned the nudge, and the capless guard went back inside the room where he had initially been guarding.

Zell grunted audibly. "Boy, if you weren't on our side, I'd kill you right now, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Zell," Selphie said softly, "we need to be calm, alright?"

"I'm as calm as fucking rain. Tell me, Irvine, what the fuck are _fishheads_, huh?"

"Galbadia's pet name for Balambians. Balamb Port is known for fish, so naturally the name sticks."

"Sounds racist."

"You all call Galbadians _Blugus_ for the uniforms they wear."

"Damn right they're blugus. Fucking assholes."

Selphie elbowed both of them in the sides. "Enough! Let's be 'serfs' for a moment."

"Right," Irvine said. "This might be an ample opportunity."

"Good info?"

"Most definitely. Come on." He prodded them across the catwalk. It snaked around two sets of wall panels and opened up into a vast arching great room. The missile bay could be seen, cut off of course by a partition. Yet, five of the eight racks of missiles were in place, and the sixth rack was slowly pulling in to its spot in the western side. Six guards were busy checking the valve pressures on the racks, and a superior officer was barking some orders at them. Irvine led them carefully down the steep steps and over to the enlisted blugu standing watch at the door. The guard must have been a newbie, for he didn't recognize the fedora-wearing SeeD.

The guard brought out a pistol and cocked the chamber. "Who the hell are you?"

Irvine held up his hands and slowly brought out his ID. The guard looked at it and brought down the gun, but did not sheathe it. He just stood there with his lips pursed.

"Uh..." Irvine started, "your seargant up there told me to send these prisoners in here to help you."

The guard looked at him, unamused, and then he looked at the two SeeDs long and hard. He then turned back to Irvine. "Why?"

"Well, maybe you should ask him."

"Maybe you should just tell me."

"They're prisoners convicted as Black Friday assassins."

"Oh.... wait." The guard scratched his chin. "Weren't _you_ a part of that. If I remember correctly, you were the sniper that fired at her."

Irvine always got irritated at overly-prying people. Yet, he breathed deeply and replied, "She's given an executive pardon on my behalf."

"Hm." He took another long look at the SeeDs before sheathing his pistol. "There's too many people in there, right now. But.... " he pointed behind them to a platform in the back behind the staircase. "Check out with the two guards down there. Maybe these fishheads can help with the circuit room."

_Circuit room?_ Selphie thought, her eyes glistening. _Hey, hey! Shut off the electricity._

"Heh!" the guard laughed. "This bitch seems to like that!"

Irvine unthinkingly flinched his hand forward in a clenched fist. He brought it back sharply, though, to keep up the act, but the guard caught it and gave him another cautious look. Irvine could feel the hairs on the back of his neck bristling. Why was he so angry about that? He could feel the air getting tense and their eyes staring at him, and he coughed a bit. "You said, the room behind the staircase?"

".........Yeah. Just down there."

Irvine saluted him, and the guard nodded. He prodded the "prisoners" down the hallway and was aware of the guard watching them. The room opened up width-wise and featured a railing that wrapped around the perimeter of a giant hole. Another rack of missiles was grating across the tracks below, and two guards were watching and smoking cigarettes. They probably knew better than to smoke in highly flammable areas, but they were blugus and grade school dropouts. They didn't give a damn about that. To be in the Galbadian military did not require a lot of intelligence or creativity.

They looked up and recognized the Galbadian sharpshooter but took better attention at the busty female he had in cuffs. They also took note of the man with the ugly tattoo on his face, and they tried to suppress a snicker. One of them turned his attention back to the missiles, but he kept looking out of the corner of his eye at Selphie's rack. The other addressed Irvine with an outstretched hand. "Irvine, you scalawag, come to do some more shooting at the range?"

Irvine shook the man's hand and took in the sweet-sour tinge of tobacco. "Nah, I've come to give these prisoners some jobs to do."

The guard raised his eyebrows. "From D-District?"

"Yep."

"That place is a smoking husk right now. Damn whoever done it."

"A damn thunderbird did it," sneered the other guard.

"Thunderbird, pah. Who believes that shit?"

"I dunno. The fishheads out east use some magicka shit that fucks up their brain cells or somethan'. I dunno. But that's what's goin' through the grapevine."

"Guys," Irvine said, "the private down at the missile bay said there's too many people working in there. Said to come see you two for serf work."

"Serf work, eh?" the first guard asked.

"Yeah, maybe check on some circuits or maintenance or--"

"Hm, maintenance sounds good."

"Yeah!" shouted the second guard. He breathed in a big gulp of smoke from his cig and started coughing.

"You goddamn bastard," the first guard said hitting him upside the head. "The fuck is your problem?"

"Man, fuck you! I'm dying here."

"Well, breathe another puff again."

He did, and he coughed some more. Irvine cocked an eyebrow. The first guard snickered some more, and the second guard gritted his teeth. "Why'd you do that?"

"Cuz you're a dumbass."

"Well, shit man. You were talking about some---" he coughed again, "some maintenance?"

"Yeah, it's that time again. It's a big day, you know. Trabia's toast. Now it's Balamb's turn."

"Pah! They should just send troops over there and torch the place instead."

"Indeed. But that'd cost too much money. Warheads are better."

"Heh, yeah they are."

The first guard turned to Irvine and then looked at Zell and Selphie. "Hm. Yeah, that sounds good. Take them down there and see what you can do."

All three SeeDs widened their eyes. Irvine asked, "Wh-What do you mean?"

The first guard hit the air with his hand and made a raspberry noise. "Shit. Man, I don't want to go up there. Too far to walk."

Irvine cocked an eyebrow.

"Tell Capless Joe up there to take a break. Then see what you can do. You remember the circuit room, right?"

"Yeah, he showed it to me one time."

"Yeah, just check to make sure everything's working up there, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Irvine said cheerily, saluting the guard.

The two of them watched Selphie's hips sway as Irvine prodded them back up the stairs, and then turned back to inhaling big gulps of cigarette smoke.

Out of sight of the guards, Selphie whispered in Irvine's ear, "Yea! Blow the place to smithereens."

"Not quite. Maybe just shut the place down."

"Really?"

"Possibly."

"You better be right," Zell said, snarkily. "I can't take much more of this shit."

They made their way up top and turned back momentarily to get a quick look at the missile bay. One more rack of missiles had yet to be put in place, and they grew slightly nervous. Time was of the essence. Irvine walked slightly forward and slipped the Quetzacotyl gem and a thundara gem in Zell's pocket and the Shiva gem and a blizarra gem in Selphie's pocket. He pawed Ifrit's gem in his pocket and cursed the day he first used magic. He had felt drained by it, like his strength and vitality had been instantly sapped from him. He wondered if that was truly a healthy long-term effect on his mental skills.

The capless guard, Mr. Joe or whomever he was, was outside of the room again studying something on his clipboard. He seemed too busy to acknowledge the impending footsteps.

"Hey, man," Irvine called out.

The guard looked up and smiled.

"The maintenance team asked us to take their place with the inspection."

"Ah, the missile bay is full?"

"Yeah, they got like six or seven people in there already."

The guard looked at his watch and smiled bigger. "Hell yeah! Fifteen minutes early. My shift is over! Take care, Irvine. Put these fuckers to work!"

"I will, sir."

The capless guard left, and Irvine unhooked the cuffs on their wrists and pocketed them. Zell gave a collective sigh, and Selphie only smiled and rubbed her wrists. She led the way in and smiled bigger at the sight within. A loud whirring sound greeted them along with a large energized capacitor behind a glass shield. Yellow fusion buzzed around the cap of the capacitor, junctioning all the energy powering the missile facility. Thick tubes, casings, and wires inserted into the capacitor and ran along the ceiling all the way to a massive control panel with row upon row of buttons, switches, and plugs. Three large monitors lay built into the incline wall stretching to the ceiling with pictures of the island of Alcauld and the Trabian continent. A red marker with an X planted near Trabia Garden seemed to signal a direct hit. The island of Alcauld had an orange dashed trace leading to Balamb Garden, a signal for a primed and ready attack.

Selphie walked up to the control panel. "This must be it. Hmmmm. I'd say screw it. Let's just hit whatever!"

Both of the guys watched with fascination as she smacked button after button after button until her hands got red. A smack on the red knob, a smack on the yellow knob, a harsh thrust of the green handle, and an actual kick on the blue bar. The three monitors started warbling and flashing brightly, and steam started erupting out of the thick wires. The two guys whirled behind them at the screeching sounds coming from the capacitor. Finally, tired, Selphie stopped her whacking and looked around her. The capacitor vibrated harshly once and then stopped. The room was plunged into darkness, and a loud sound clicked throughout the facility. A red light flicked on in the corner.

Irvine chuckled slightly to himself. "A backup generator. This should be interesting."

A dinging sound echoed, and the intercom buzzed. "_Backup generators commencing. Electrical system malfunction. Capacitor at blown overdrive. Maintenance team: Investigate immediately._:"

"Shit," Zell said.

"Hmmph," Irvine grunted.

"Come on guys," Selphie chirped. "I'm tired of being all goody-goody. Let's kick some ass!" She stuffed her hand in her pocket and gripped the blizzara gem tightly. Sweet blue energy encircled her palm and invigorated her veins and bloodstream-- a familiar wonderful feeling she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Oh, sweet Eden," Irvine said, smacking himself in the forehead.

The door immediately opened, and the two smoking maintenance guards came in. "Holy shit, dog, what happened?" one of them asked.

"This," Selphie said slyly, jutting her hand out swiftly and firing a thick shard of ice that lay suspended in the air in front of the guard that spoke. Behind the shard, a crystalline fan of ice splayed out in a semi-circle and was deeply shiny. Both guards looked at it stupidly. Having never seen magic used in person, they gaped at it awestruck and dribble formed on their bottom lip. Selphie snapped her fingers, and the fan of ice slammed hard in the butt of the shard and impaled the first guard in the throat, knocking him straight to the ground. The second guard reached for his pistol, but Zell bounded forward and powerhoused the legs from underneath him. Swiftly, the brawler punched the open jugular in the man's neck, and the guard instantly saw white and died.

Irvine looked at his charged-up companions and relished the acts of violence. He looked at Selphie and did not know what to say. That rush she just assumed, he didn't know where that came from. _She looks so sweet and innocent. She just _murdered _some dude!_ Then he thought, _Aw, fuck it. That was awesome!_ "Boy, you are something."

"Ha!" she said, playing with her hair. "Let's keep movin!"

"Wait," he said.

"Irvine!" Zell shouted. The rush was still embedded in him, and he was hopping from one foot to the other punching the air like a maniac. "I'm not playing any shenanigans anymore."

"Well, we have to. Nobody knows these two are dead. Everybody thinks they're fixing up the circuit room. This could've delayed the launch for all we know."

"Then, let's just fuck em up!"

"No!" Selphie said. "Let's do this quietly. And then... er.. _you know _them up."

Irvine and Zell giggled at her coyness, sensing the hypocrisy of it, and followed her out the door. It was brightly lit before, but now the ever-present red glare from the backup lights were prevalent everywhere. No racks were grating on the tracks below, but hardly a sound stirred the air anyway. Except for a distant grunting shouting from an order-happy officer. They made their way to the missile bay, and from overhead they could see all eight racks of missiles located inside. The eighth rack, though, was stuck right in front of its designated spot. The electricity powering the tracks was cut off, and now the guards were trying desperately to move it. The damn thing weighed a ton, and nine people pushing on it were only making centimeters of movement. The three SeeDs made their way again slowly down the steps and tried to walk past the unguarded door.

The unguarded door opened, and the private from earlier walked out with a frustrated expression on his face. He had taken his cap and uniform shirt off, revealing a sweaty bald head and a sweaty undershirt. He wiped his brow with a greasy hand and stared at Irvine with an annoyed glance. He saw the two "prisoners" unchained, and he grew equally suspicious.

"Hey, sir, the maintenance team said they'd handle the situation in the circuit room."

The private licked his lips in frustration and glanced at all three one at a time again. He glared at Irvine and snapped, "Are you busy?!?"

"Ah...." the cowboy was caught off guard.

The private looked at him, seeming to satisfy his suspicions.

"Ah, no, we're not busy."

"......Then help us out in here. We need to get the rack uploaded quickly or else the damn delay's gonna be unbearable."

"Help you out?"

"Yes, it doesn't matter who does it. We need this up-and-running now. Can you lend us a hand?"

"Yeah." Both of them ignored Zell's astonished glance, and the private walked stiltedly back inside. Irvine steadied Zell's shaking shoulders and prodded both him and Selphie inside. It was darker here than inside the rest of the facility, and one of the guards had brought in a portable spotlight to shine on the lone rack of missiles stuck in the middle of the room. All it needed was five feet to the east, and it could be firmly locked in place by the backup hydraulics. Nine guards were busy trying with all their might to push the monstrosity forward, but one suddenly fell to the ground and snagged his arm hard on a jagged edge of the rack. A smack of blood hit the scaffolding, and the other eight steered away from him.

"Goddammit!" the superior officer snapped. "People! Time is not on our side. Get that fucker to the side and get back to pushin!"

"Aye, sir, aye," shouted the enlisted with frustrated grunts.

The wounded seargant was hauled carefully to a medic room, where he had to apply his own gauze and treatment. The superior officer punched a support column hard with his fist, shocking the three SeeDs. "Fuck it all to hell! Power failure at a crucial time like this!!" He slammed the column hard again, causing a big hole to appear in it. "The hell are those maintenance people doing?"

The private walked up to him. "Mr. Kinneas is here, sir."

"Mr. Who?"

The private indicated the cowboy. The officer looked at the young man skeptically and then recalled the familiar face. "Well, holy shit. Carroway's favorite pawn. And who are those fuckers!" He pointed at Selphie and Zell, paying particular attention to the girl.

"Prisoners convicted on the Black Friday assassination attempt, sir."

Loud murmurs rose from the eight soldiers standing ready at the rack. The officer raised his eyebrows and shook his head slowly. "Well, I'll be a monkey's ass. Funny how things work out sometimes. I guess, before we kill you two, we'll let you sweat it out a bit. Get the fuck over there, and just be thankful we don't cop a feel on the missy over here!"

The eight soldiers snickered loudly and got into position. Irvine, Selphie, and Zell slowly walked over and filled in spots empty between the eight soldiers. The superior officer cracked the muscles in his neck and back and crouched low. "Alright, you mangy bastards, heave and ho!!!"

All eleven of them pushed, and the officer saw the movement of the rack gradually gaining ground. A buzz sounded in his earpiece, and he recognized the voice of Seifer Almasy talking in his ear. He affirmed his codename and ventured outside and into the brig to have the conversation. Meanwhile, the rack of missiles grated so loudly across the tarmac rails that sparks flew out the sides. Some burned the knuckles of the guards on the sides and corners, but they all kept up the pace. Selphie, with her thin arms, felt an intense burn entwining her, but she felt an exhilirating rush enveloping her as well and far greater. _The power of Shiva, maybe?_ A few minutes of grating and flying sparks ruptured the rack of missiles onto the platform, and the backup hydraulics secured a bar straight through the contraption and secured itself in place.

The eight soldiers sighed in relief and started singing a song about a burning city, except they substituted the city for a burning Garden. Completely ignoring the three SeeDs, they started dancing over bars on the floor and pulling out pictures of porn from the _Girl Next Door_ magazine. Irvine, Selphie, and Zell looked at them and then looked at each and quietly walked out the door. Outside, there was no around, and they quickly surveyed the surrounding. The main staircase led back up to the circuit room, but a second smaller staircase led eastward to a small walled-off room.

"That's the brig," Irvine noted, pointing at it.

"Hey, what's that?" Selphie asked, pointing at a console panel in the southeast nook, underneath the entrance to the brig.

"I think that is something valuable."

"Good, something valuable," Zell snorted sarcastically.

Selphie ran towards it and then smiled ecstatically. "The missile coordinates!"

Zell looked at it. A big keyboard hooked up to a small monitor that was at the moment flashing a bright blue light of a map grid of Alcauld. "Good. Let's smash this sonofabitch up."

"Smash it up?" Irvine inquired.

"Yeah, man, what else?"

"That'd be nice," Selphie said, "but it'd be a mega bummer if we set the missiles off by accident, right?"

"Er.... yeah, that'd kinda suck."

"Let's just mess with it a bit."

"Good enough."

"Sounds great," Irvine added.

Selphie looked at the console and then frowned.

"What?" Zell asked.

She tapped on the screen. "A password required."

"Aw, shit," Irvine snorted. "Here." He swiped his card in front of the laser eye, and the laser dot flashed on the ID line. A few tense seconds later, a green light appeared, and the screen changed:

_Logging in System_

_~Checking ID~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OK_

_Setting Parameters_

_~~~System Bio~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OK_

_~~~RAM~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OK_

_~~~Kilo Network~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OPERATIONAL_

_~Safety Network~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~HIgh Capacity_

The screen changed to yellow and then back to sky blue. A map of the world with all four landmasses and islands appeared, in green outline. The distinctive symbol of Galbadia and Deling appeared in the top right corner, and a set of four blocks appeared on the left-hand side. The blocks said "Target", "Error Ratio", "Data Upload", and "Exit". Selphie clicked on the Target block, but a red flash appeared freezing her blood cold. A loud buzz emitted, and a Caution flag appeared telling her that only an officer could access that page.

"Damn," she snapped. The boys mumbled softly.

She calmed her nerves and hit the Error Ratio button instead. Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then, the screens shifted and the map disappeared. A big horizontal bar appeared with two words on each side: Minimum, Maximum. The blue trigger at the bottom of the bar was currently at Minimum. "Must be the accuracy meter, huh?" she asked.

They nodded with a shrug of their shoulders. "Maybe," Zell said.

"I bet it is." She clicked a button and held it until the blue trigger went all the way to the Maximum side. "Hopefully this works."

"Upload the data so it registers," Irvine said.

"Good thinkin."

The screen saved itself, and three bars began spinning and filling up until a message of successful upload popped up.

CLICK, CLICK.

All three of them looked up sharply to see a pistol cocked and loaded straight at them. The superior officer had slowly and softly descended the stairs, and the pistol was held trembling in his grip. What he had heard from the Knight was enough to make his blood freeze. "Mr. Irvine, I am surprised at you."

"Surprised?" The cowboy glanced at his comrades and saw Zell looking ready to take on a bullet before bashing the officer's face in. "Why should you be?"

"I know. Your story on escaping the wrath of the Sorceress is outlandish at best. Sir Seifer Almasy just radioed me, warning about a possible attack on the Kilo Sector here. He seemed to think you all would survive the destruction of Desert District No. Five."

"I'm sure he did, but we've already disrupted enough here to stop the launch."

The officer grunted. "Ha! We've got loads of backup plans. If we can't launch all the missiles, we'll launch at least one of them. Plus, the G-Army is ten times greater than any pussy-footing fishhead army you all can conjure up. What the fuck are you thinking, sharpshooter?"

Irvine regarded him angrily. He had grown bitter against Galbadia before Squall had come to G-Garden the month before, and the superior officer standing in front of him had known it. No doubt the going now would be tough.

Zell snorted. "You can't defeat us, not after we've bypassed you all here."

"Ha!" the officer snorted. "You think you're so tough, cuz you have a... whatever kind of tattoo that is on there. What, a scar thing or something?"

"Keep guessin you fuck!"

The officer prodded his gun forward. "I want you all to watch the launch first before you die, so you know that your friends are concretely dead."

"You don't have the guts to pull the trigger!" Selphie shouted.

"I'd rather pull _my_ trigger in you, sweetheart."

"Not when I rip it off with my bare hand."

The officer snickered slyly. "I like a woman who knows what she wants."

"And she wants you to shut the fuck up!" Irvine quickly brought out a flash grenade and detonated it at the feet of the officer, scaring the piss out of him and flinging him back in the wall. Irvine pulled out the Bismarck and plugged a fat bloody hole in the officer's chest.

A bullet hit the wall by his head, causing fragments of metal to slice into his temple. Both Selphie and Zell crouched to the floor, and the guard who had fired the shot ran from his hiding spot towards them, firing multiple shots. Most grazed the wall, but one sliced open Zell's partially exposed back and another hit the back of Irvine's leg.

The missile bay door opened, and the guards within poured out with pistols blazing. Selphie unsheathed the Morning Star and flung one end of the weapon straight into the balls of the forefront guard, spun in a circle, and flung the other end straight into the jugular of the guard. He dropped his pistol, fell to his knees, and coughed up copious amounts of blood. The guard behind him fired a bullet straight into Selphie's shoulder, ripping it apart, and she cried out in pain and sat down in a corner. Irvine cursed bitterly and fired shot after shot at the crowd of guards, emasculating two of them bloodily and blowing huge wide chunks out of three more. The two guards left from the missile bay raced back inside and fled to higher ground. Zell charred the running guard with a devastating lightning bolt that incinerated the man full-frontal.

A klaxon started. Bright flashing red lights illuminated the facility, and they turned to see the dying officer laugh weakly at them, blood gushing out of his mouth. He pointed with a trembling finger to a emergency button on his belt before succumbing to the abyss. Irvine grunted and administered a Hi-Potion he had taken from old man Hermann back at the Kneed to Selphie. She grunted at the horrible feeling of her skin grafting together against the bloody hole. He wiped the blood smears away, and she gave him an admiring smile before clumsily standing up. "This sucks!" she exclaimed.

"Are they launching the missiles?" Zell asked.

"Not yet," Irvine stated. "This is an alert call. We need to get into the brig." He helped Selphie up, and all three of them raced up the steps and came across the locked door to the brig. A bullet smacked at the door from the poor aim of the G-soldier. Selphie swung in front of Irvine brandishing a pistol from a fallen enlisted man and fired a shot straight into the heart of the guard.

"Damn," Zell whistled.

"The G-soldiers were never good at weapons firing," Irvine said shakily. He looked at Selphie. _Where the hell did that accuracy come from?_

Selphie blew the smoke away from the chamber. "Never mess with a pissed-off woman."

"I'll try to remember that," Irvine said. He kicked open the door at the knob and found a guard with sights on the door. The cowboy narrowly dodged a bullet in the gut. Leaping back in, the Bismarck sounded and blew the guard's head off, spraying blood over the computer console behind him, short-circuiting the wires.

"Shit, you're a monster," Zell snorted, with a gleam in his eye. This is what he wanted to see from the fey-looking cowboy.

"Come on," Selphie shouted breathlessly, "where's the controls for the missile launch?!"

Irvine barged in and voraciously looked. "Ohhhhh.... there somewhere in here."

"No shit, Sherlock. Where?"

"There." He pointed to a console on the western side, unobstructed by anything. Selphie ran towards it and messed with some buttons, ignoring their astonished looks. One wrong slip could set off the missiles! Of course, the klaxons were blaring steadily on.

A click was heard, and she smiled big. "There we go. All set. Now let's blow this motherfucker up!!"

"Wow! So unlike you," Zell shouted.

"I love it!!" Irvine yelled.

"Where to now?"

"In the back!" He led them to the back end, and a computer with a small telescreen illuminated in the background. "There it is."

Selphie ran forward and slammed her fist straight onto the keyboard. The telescreen went blank, and the klaxons changed into a peculiar warbly pick. The intercom buzzed on, and a squeaky electronic voice bellowed out: _Ten minutes to complete and total destruction of Deling Kilo Sector No Three. All staff evacuate the base immediately. I repeat. All staff evacuate the base immediately._

Selphie swung her nunchaku around in a circle, and Zell fist-pumped the air. Irvine cleared his throat and noted the timer. "We can't waste too much time here, gang. Let's go!" They took note of the officer's secret door behind them, and Irvine kicked it open. It was a shortcut to the main entrance, and the cowboy readied a few rounds with an extra kick of Blitz power to his gun. The guards were fleeing and not paying too much attention to them. They knew they were there, but their asses were on the line. The three SeeDs followed them out and into the open air. The Sun was incredibly hotter now, despite being roughly four o clock in the afternoon.

About a dozen officers and enlisted men were sashaying out the complex as fast as they could, boarding oil trucks and dune buggies and anything that had wheels. A particularly big blue mecha vehicle, however, was not leaving the facility. The frustrated and suspicious private from earlier was standing in front of it, armed with a G-PK015, and eyeing them warily.

"Its not over yet!!!" he shouted as loud as he could.

The three of them stopped and stared at him, for they doubted that he was at all stable enough not to fire the gun. They did not have the time for this.

It appeared it was only him and the big blue machine behind him.

The gates were closed behind them.

"You fucked with the wrong Galbadian soldier, Irvine Kinneas!"

"Goddammit," Irvine hissed to himself.

A sharp grating sound broke the standoff, and all four of them looked to the side of them to see a large floor covering slide all the way back. Eight pillars rose from the depths below, and eight racks of missiles rocketed into the sky. Roughly forty missiles blitzkrieged the air on a direct course for Balamb Garden.

The private watched the smoky coattails billow in the wind and the heat from the Sun, and he snickered to himself. He hummed a song inside his head and closed his eyes to the beat.

Enraged, Irvine brought the Bismarck up and blew a hole in the private's stomach.

The private dropped his assault rifle and smashed into the front of the mecha. Sparks of Blitz electricity zapped in his open stomach. Blood ran out of his eyes and nose, yet he smiled at the sharpshooter and gestured to the mecha. He raised a hand weakly to his belt and hit a control on the latch, then died like the officer had done.

The three SeeDs watched lights appear on the mecha, watched spigots fire up on the side, and then watched it transform into a lumbering mechanical creature. It rose to a gigantic height and sprouted arms from within its frame, arms decked out in serrated knives. Three rows of mechanical wheeled feet supported the girth of its body to the ground, but despite its massive size it was agile enough to swoop from side to side like the grace of a swan. It cackled with a raspy grinding voice and bellowed towards them like a drunken skater with both knives edged out at the ready.

Irvine had the Protect magicka on him, and he had remembered the proper verses this time around. With quick reflexes that beguiled him, he managed to douse himself and Selphie with the blue shields before the maniacal mecha plunged straight downwards. Zell twirled in a somersault over one of the hind legs and out of the knife plunge. Both serrated blades crashed down on Selphie and Irvine and sent them straight to the ground. The blue auras shone bright against the hit, but the pain was incredible. The force of impact was fatal to be sure, but the Protects shielded roughly seventy-five percent of the blow. Both of their bodies felt compressed on both ends by the weight of the knives, and the mecha was stumbled backwards from the shields. Stumbling backwards, it tried to counter by opening up its chestplate and revealing a gatling gun within.

Zell tackled the opportunity. He grasped one hind leg, scaled up to the mecha's back, and searched for an open pile of circuits similar to the joints of a human being. He crawled up to the mecha's neck and started ripping apart the creature's wirings with his fists. Strange guttural sounds emerged from its innards, and it slammed a hind leg into the tarmac leaving a large crater-like hole. It blindly fired its gatling gun, ripping to shredded cheese the missile facility, the shooting range, the empty husks of the missile racks, and one of the filling stations. A fireball erupted catching another filling station on fire and spilling flammable oil over the tarmac. Selphie and Irvine worked overtime to dodge the lumbering legs and the aimless gatling gun. Zell, annoyed, fired a lightning bolt straight into the mess of wires. A circuit nerve shut off in the mecha, and one set of hind legs lopped off, downsizing the mecha. Zell fell off his perched stance, landed hard on another of the hind legs, and bounced off to the floor, his blood pouring from three large wounds. The gatling gun picked up speed before overheating and shutting off, destroying one wall of the facility and inching into Irvine's Protect field. Fresh deep wounds appeared on the cowboy's skin and flung him into a wall of the compound.

The mecha made a nasty sound and leapt clumsily backwards, creating more crater-size holes. Selphie deployed two magickas at once, healing Zell with a mild Cura spell and summoning the GF Shiva. The Ice Queen descended from a large shard of ice and eyed the mecha warily. With a lithe snap of her fingers, she surrounded the enemy with blades of her ice and then spun in a circle. Snapping her fingers again, she watched the blades of ice penetrate the mecha on all sides. Some had no effect, but others penetrated so deep more circuits snapped under the wet conditions, and another hind leg contraption fell off. Pissed off and gesticulating, the mecha unloaded a fresh salvo of bullets into Shiva's skin. Blue blood splattered the tarmac, and she let out a frail cry. The mecha stumbled to its feet still firing its gatling gun and barrelled forward slicing her body into two pieces with its sharp knives. Shiva disappeared in a bright blue cacophany of blood, yet a sky blue waft of smoke dissipated into the air and chunks of ice littered the floor. Selphie gulped and backed up into a corner, now looking really timid with the spark she had before gone now.

Irvine hollered for Zell to get up and use some thunder to fry the sonofabitch. He fired some covering shots with increasing Blitz uses. One shot sprayed harmlessly against blue metal. The second hit an open circuit connection, stumbling the mecha to its sets of knees. The third shot hit right on the gatling gun itself, stalling it and stumbling the mecha some more. However, the mecha flung sharply forward with its right-hand knife and smacked into Irvine's Protect shield flinging him backwards and opening up more wounds on his body.

Zell coughed up blood and stumbled to his feet. The mecha spotted him and lunged forward with its left-hand knife. The brawler clumsily avoided it, fell to the ground, and summoned Quetzacotyl. The thunder god appeared above the compound wall and perched itself atop the edge of barbed wire. The mecha eyed its electrified body warily, but was pleased to find its gatling gun primed once more. It opened fire on the bird's belly, but the GF readied a Protect shield of its own, and most of the bullets ricocheted off and splattered everywhere including into the bodies of Zell, Selphie, and Irvine. A few hit the chest of Quetzacotyl, but it didn't seem to mind. When the salvo ended, the god dropped the shield, created an electrical ball on the end of its beak and then spat into the ball sending it straight into the chest of the mecha. The impact blew it into the air and crashed it in an electrified mess straight into the empty husks of missile racks. Four limbs lobbed off: both knife-wielding arms and two hind legs. Smoke churned and curled forward, enveloping the compound, and Quetzacotyl twirled in a circle and vanished in a heap of feathers.

The mecha malfunctioned and shut down. It had only one set of hind leg left, but it transformed back into a dilapidated vehicle, banged up, and most definitely unable to make an escape journey.

The three SeeDs coughed up some more blood and vaguely looked at the Cura gems and Hi-Potions in their inventory. They looked at the closed gates to the compound. They looked at the nine-foot high ceilings with barbed wiring at the top. They listened to the blaring klaxons sounding the death call in the background.

They looked at each other.

"We're....." Selphie began, her voice hurt, her stomach hurt, her mind hurt, "we're locked in."

Irvine was crouched down, but he decided that it wouldn't matter what he was doing. The explosion would happen. He sat down on his haunches, took off his fedora, and lit a cigarette he had in his pocket.

"Hey.... hey, man," Zell said weakly. He was on his back looking up at the sky, but he slowly sat up and pawed at the sharpshooter's shoulder. "You... gonna smoke all those?"

Irvine laughed. "Hell no man. Here." He handed him one. He noticed Selphie's inquiring glance and smiled big. "I knew there was something interesting about you."

"R-Really?"

"Yeah." He handed her one and lit it for her.

She took a deep drag, coughed on it, and took another one. The smoke cooled down the rough taste of coppery blood in her throat. It gave her great comfort.

All three of them mused into silence. Any second, the place was fire. The klaxons eventually ebbed out, and nothing but silence permeated their minds.

_Squall will find a way,_ Selphie thought. _I know he will. He's the most determined man I've ever seen. I wonder..... I wonder if he'll organize the Garden Festival?_ She thought about that. She thought about the Quad and everything that lay inside it. The massive commons grounds where musical festivals the humanities department put on were held. The places the Guardians always tried to keep boyfriends and girlfriends out of because they were "off-limits". She thought of the play she had in mind that she had composed at Trabia. She thought of Squall manning the helm of that.

And she laughed.

_Nah, I can't count on Squall to do that._

She sighed.

_It's all over._

Zell blew out an agitated puff of smoke. "All these times, death was a mystery to me. And now, here! Here at this moment. I... I don't want to go just yet."

"So.... so much to do. So much," Irvine cooed.

"I have lived a life full of battles. I've trained for them day after day after day. I'm prepared for the inevitable!" Zell fist-pumped the air, but was disappointed to see weak punches hit the sky out of him. "But this can't be it. This cannot be it!!! Fuck!!! Fuck, fuck, fuck!! Why! W----hy!!!"

Irvine sighed. "Squall. He didn't trust me. Nobody ever did. But, him especially. He was just liberally consoling me atop that clocktower last month. He didn't mean those things. He probably really wanted to kill me back at the prison for my irresponsibility." He sighed again, longer this time, and shivered as if he were cold. "That's probably why he put me on this team."

"No," Selphie said, slowly getting up. She kicked the butt of the cig to the ground and stomped out the flame. Both guys looked at her as she spoke. "He _ had _faith in us. That is why he put us on this team. Squall chose us, because he believed in us. He's so silent about everything. He's so _quirky _about everything. But he believed in us, I'm sure of it! He believed we could pull this off. And dammit! I think we did."

"How can you be so sure?" Zell asked.

"Because I have faith in him. There's more than meets the eye in that man."

* * *

At Watchman's Kneed, old man Hermann had seen the missiles launch, and his heart had sank. Sitting on his porch, though, he felt worse when a gigantic fireball erupted where the Deling Kilo Sector No. Three was. The Missile Base had exploded.

The world would now be plunged into chaos.

Yet, he breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly.

He had made peace to the great High God Eden.

Grabbing the shotgun placed beside him, he propped it underneath his chin, and pulled the trigger.


	15. Faction Gang Wars

**Author's Note:** A rapid-fire action chapter this one is. Some NPCs are used to aid the Missile Warning Team in this chapter, something that I think adds flavor to the game's several instances of banality. Plus, if anyone's seen _Mimic_, you might find the Guardians to be very interesting characters.

Enjoy the read and review as you please~~~ACJ

_Torrential matters_

_Abound in impending war_

_Garden factions dwell_

The gunblader was at the wheel, the princess rode shotgun, and the former instructor sat bolt upright in the rear with eyes alert as the gray dune buggy sped a bumpy gait over the desert terrain. Old timer Hermann Khan had underestimated the horsepower of the vehicle, and all three of them were astonished at the time-saving potential this dune buggy had to offer.

Quistis kept them posted on the time, as her watch was the only device that survived the prison ordeal; they had left at 1325, and if Hermann was right in his assessment the Warning Team had roughly two-and-a-half hours to reach Balamb Garden and somehow find a way to produce a set of workable shields to defend against the Galbadian missiles. The missiles clocked in at five hundred knots and would probably make the Garden in no less than twenty minutes after the launch. Garden did not have a valid strategic defense program, since no prior precedent had seen the need for destroying missiles out of the sky.

Her brow furled, and her eyes narrowed. Being too adept on domestic policy issues, she knew without a doubt that this was almost an impossible mission to accomplish. What the hell were they supposed to accomplish without the proper abilities to accomplish it with?

She let out a distressed sigh a little too audibly. Rinoa picked up on it, causing her to turn around with concerned eyes, but Squall didn't seem to register. One hand was on the wheel, and the other was gripping the side panel above him, and his eyes were narrow dark blue slits focused intently on the path toward the Delta Outpost-- a train station along the outskirts of the Galbadian-Deling border, where there was most certainly a fast-moving transport available.

"What's wrong?" Rinoa asked, in her usual sweet, lilting voice. Her mutt was curled at her feet enjoying the coolness of her legs.

Quistis Trepe, despite everything they'd been through in the past month, narrowed her eyes at her and snapped, "Apart from the fact that the Gardens are being obliterated one-at-a-time and that all SeeDs not associated with Galbadia are targeted for assassination? Apart from _that_? No, nothing's wrong."

Rinoa looked at her for a second, before giving a sly smile. "That's what I thought. Squall's got a plan for us." She turned slightly to look at his stern face. "Right?"

He snorted, twitched his jaw, and did not respond.

"Yeah, I'm sure he does," Quistis muttered, "yet the clear fact remains. Both Balamb and Trabia do not have capable methods to shoot down incoming missiles." She paused as she saw Squall twitch at that. "So, we get there, we warn every higher-up, and.... then what? Shields? We don't have any shields. Are we going to fight off the missiles with our fists, our weapons, magic?" She threw her hands up in the air. "What then?"

Squall snorted again, catching her attention. "You're such a downer all the time, Instructor."

"I'm not an instructor anymore. You know that."

A fly buzzed onto his brow; all he did was twitch it slightly, and it was gone. "I know too much about too many things."

"Like what? All it is is fighting, combat, pain, battle, and.. oh did I forget... combat, fighting, pain..."

"Great Eden, what _is _wrong with you?" Rinoa asked.

Again, Quistis narrowed her eyes at her, and this time Rinoa returned the gesture. She clarified, "Really, what gives? Maybe the Garden has some sort of secret to it that you don't know about."

"Uh-huh."

"It probably does," Squall admitted, "but that is not my concern at the moment."

Rinoa looked at him sharply, and Angelo whimpered awake at the remark.

Quistis gripped his headrest and was moments away from rapping him upside the head. "Not your _concern_ at the moment?!?"

The Delta Outpost was in sight. With her arms on the headrest, Squall nonchalantly reached up and swiftly twisted off her watch and checked the face. Five minutes to 1400. He figured the train ride, depending on the ubiquitous maintenance issues, would be a one-hour ride. They would approach from Balamb Port at a running pace to the Garden that would take roughly fifteen to twenty minutes, and then.... _Shit, after that it's just mere speculation_, he mused. He could feel both of their eyes on him, but he enjoyed the silence of the moment and cruised the buggy into the Outpost.

Galbadian vehicles were present here, encroaching on some trade gypsie's dried goods stand, apparantly conducting some trial searches in order to "keep the Westonian people safe". He cruised behind a stack of crates and took note of the especially fast Silver Bullet train near the back end of the Outpost. The Silver Bullet trams were not quite the fastest rides but far more efficient than the standard trams. About five or six were parked in the dock, and several G-soldiers were patrolling with assault rifles at the ready.

"The question still stands," she repeated with annoying inflections.

Squall shifted to park and felt relieved that the Galbadians had not witnessed their entrance. "Once the missiles strike, as they have done to Trabia, Seifer will commence his bloodletting. He will kill all the SeeDs that he can get to. Yet, if _we_ can evacuate everyone from Balamb, make it to Trabia, reunite with those SeeDs still left standing, and get back in contact with the Silent Kilo team we can possibly go toe-to-toe with the bastard." He looked at both of them and smirked. "That is _my_ plan."

"Foolish," Quistis answered, although a faint smile was slowly building up on her face.

"Well, then I'll let you use your fireball spells to stop the missiles."

Angelo barked once, before Rinoa clasped his muzzle. All three of them looked around them but found no one coming to investigate.

"He's likely to raise some noise," she responded.

Squall nodded. "We haven't got much time, though, so we need to hurry." He reached over in front of Rinoa and opened the glove box. The shiny leftover magic jewels gleamed at him-- the Brothers, Diablos and that weird red jewel GF he had gotten earlier from the lizard monsters in Vinzer Deling's Presidential Palace. The mystery of the musty red orb was overpowering, yet not even Quistis knew what the heck it was. Whatever lay inside it sure didn't make its presence known, either. A handful of higher-up magicka was also in the box, a worthy concoction the former instructor had assembled on the drive from the Kneed, from balancing out a proportion of both the Brothers's and Diablos's mana sources with some of the mid-level magics. Thus, a weak form of Firaga, Blizzaga, and Thundaga spells were at the group's disposal; however, it was clear that the combined power of the two GFs seemed to be mysteriously weakened through the concoction-- they definitely weren't glowing as brightly as they should've been. Always a downside in life, there was.

Squall divied up the higher-up spells giving fire for himself, ice for Rinoa, and thunder for Quistis and pocketed the three GFs in his pocket. With the warmth of the magic corraling through them, they scuttled Angelo closer to them and quietly hopped off the gray buggy. The armed soldiers were patrolling at a snail's pace around the perimeter of the Outpost, not necessarily taking a long time to inspect the area. Trains and crates were blocking swaths of the pathways, and the trio had an easy going to trek.

The Silver Bullets were to the southeast and looked unguarded for the moment. Squall kept a hand on the hilt of his flimsy sabre he had jacked from the dead private Wedge, and the girls kept a hand on their weapons. Lightly as possible, their feet led them around three snaking crate lines until they reached the cabousse of the closest Bullet. Angelo kept as quiet as he could for a dog and trotted swiftly behind his master's feet. One guard doing detail near the engine of the Bullet left to the right and walked over to the main control building of the Delta Outpost, and Squall signalled to run.

All four of them clamored onto the train and surprised the elderly conductor sitting in the engineer's seat. Squall unsheathed the sabre in a slick movement and touched the man's neck with it. Putting a finger to his lips, the gunblader motioned with his head, and the conductor dutifully complied and got off the train quickly. Studying the control panel, Squall flipped a couple switches and the tram roared to life. It was a cargo train with coal deposits set to reach Timber for a delivery run, yet Squall fixed the coordinates to set sights on Balamb Port-- destination time at fifty-five minutes and twelve seconds.

The wheels grated on the tracks, and the nine-cart rig sped off to the tunnels. The guards aware of the commotion opened fire on the tram, splintering glass windows and drilling holes in the sides. One fray swiped into the conductor's box, causing them to duck, but the train pulled away so fast the G-army could not catch up.

A klaxon sounded, but nobody could follow. The captain of the Outpost signalled a halt on a chase. The missiles would be launching soon. A hijacked train was expendable in this moment of triumph.

* * *

It was roughly an hour to Alcauld, and Squall shifted the box into automatic drive and sat back in the chair. A loud sigh escaped him, and the girls took it as a sign of annoyance, so they let him be.

Squall Leonhart finally realized just how tired he was... and just how lucky he was to be alive. For over a month now, he had gone from a botched hijacking job in the countryside of Timber to a calamitous situation in the city of Timber itself to an interesting mission in a puzzle-filled tomb to finally the botched assassination job in Deling City. The President of Westonia was dead, murdered in front of millions of people in that city and worldwide. The commander-in-chief of the Deling Guard now seemed a blunt figurehead for the Sorceress Edea to exploit not to mention fulfill more bumbling missions for SeeDs to handle. On top of everything, the job in Deling City landed him and four of his pals into the worst prison in the world. He looked at his hands and looked at the scars. God, the scars. That needle pushing his fingernail cap up and over. That pain when it went through. The subsequent knife. The sharpened baton. The electrocution.

He put a hand to his temple.

And that fucking Seifer Almasy. He enjoyed _all_ of it. He enjoyed all of it.

He wanted nothing more than to sleep. Sleep sounded especially good. Except when he slept he normally dreamed. As all people do, probably. Yet _his _dreams ended up being nightmares. Images of rainy days and weird ambiguous buildings that generally resembled each other the more he slept. If it wasn't those anomalies, then it was this constantly recurring nightmare of the Galbadian soldier Laguna Loire. Three times now, he was walking in the shoes of this fucking klutz. This stooge of a man who now apparantly was quitting, or had quit, the Galbadian army since he now apparantly found a new squeeze to settle for.

Really, though, the sight of this Raine Hart seemed to comfort Squall. He was strangely caught off guard by this woman's beauty, so much that he suddenly forgot about his tiredness. He forgot about the pain and suffering he had endured; all there was to feel was the warmth and radiance of this petite woman from Winhill.

Why?

He wished he knew. He sat instead watching the underground view of rocky and dirt terrain shift gradually into the salty seas of the Central Ocean. The Silver Bullet was moving along at a great clip, and he expected the arrival time to be quicker than he first thought.

He suddenly thought about Selphie and Irvine and Zell. Did he do the right thing by sending them to the death trap? Couldn't they all have just gone together? Or gone and warn Balamb as a whole? Will they get out of that place alive?

His thoughts merged and blended into a thick soup, and he gradually faded back to a brooding pout that was his signature trademark.

So much so that Quistis bumped Rinoa on the shoulder and whispered in her ear the meanings of that. It seemed the raven-haired princess had caught on well before that, for a sparkling glimmer alighted in her eyes, and she almost burst out laughing. Angelo was panting up a storm, for the air was too hot for a long-haired dog to find comfortable in.

The train sped on, and within forty minutes to their surprise, the sea drifted away to rocky terrain again, and bright light began to enter the scene. Squall got up and shielded his eyes at the tell-tale ceiling lights of Balamb Port Station. He pressed hard on the brake, and the Silver Bullet came to a stop. He could see several people inside the terminal looking curiously at the freight, but he realized they might be more interested in the events happening in the next two hours.

They got off the tram and hurried out the station. Adjusting their eyes to the brightness and filling themselves with the sweet-salt smell of the sea, they plowed forward for the exits. Squall looked at the watch when they arrived at the exit gates and saw the minute hand on five past three o clock. If the missiles were launched now, time was not on their side. But.....

He shoved the thoughts aside and ran across the fields, hardly waiting for the girls to catch up. The long-haired dog was enjoying the run, regardless of the circumstances. He ran ahead of Squall even, tongue whacking his chin, eyes alit with joy.

Ten minutes later, the trio crested a hill and caught their breath. The Garden was in sight.

A single twirl of black smoke was wafting up from somewhere inside the facility.

"Is....Is that smoke?!!" Quistis asked, fear in her eyes.

"The missiles?" Rinoa questioned.

Squall scratched the back of head hard. "No. Missiles would have demolished the place. I have no idea why there's smoke here."

"Great Eden," Quistis muttered.

"Come on," Squall demanded, "we'll find out what it is." He took off again, and they hurried to catch up.

* * *

A couple of blue bug swarms were about, but the trio wasted no time in dispatching them, and they came across the front gates. They slowed their pace when the sounds of battle and hoarse throat calls reached their ears. An explosion rocked the facility somewhere inside, and another smokestack rose into the air.

"In--Internal fighting?" Squall mused.

"What?" Rinoa and Quistis asked in unison. Angelo gave a bark of disapproval.

They saw a fireball casted way in the distance, and Squall led again. They entered Balamb Garden and saw charred grass and broken walls and windows smashed to pieces. The front gates emptied into a cobblestone walkway that was dishelved as if smashed by lightning magicka; the walkway led into the campus commons that eventually led to the circular disc leading to all seven major crystalline buildings and the three-story ivory tower.

On the campus commons, SeeDs, cadets, junior classmen, and instructors ran in all directions. Most were running with arms flailing and throats screaming. Some took up arms and fought. Swords scraped each other and gutted several students. Magic flared intensely with fire, thunder, lightning, and water spells blasting apart every minute detail of the Garden. At least five people lay dead on the commons, and everybody was moving in a gradual direction toward the main crux of the school. One lone Guardian stood in the center, clad in the excruciating garb as usual-- oversized yellow ornate hat, long red robes with the white shawl draping it, and golden shoes. He was gesticulating wildly with his finger and yelling in an indescribable language.

Squall, Rinoa, and Quistis looked on in astonishment as the majority of the students routed to the circular disc. Two SeeDs stayed behind and began interrogating a cadet. The Guardian looked on the questioning before shouting comprehensibly to "kill the bastard of Cid!" Squall, Rinoa, and Quistis widened their eyes as the two SeeDs nonchalantly decapitated the young cadet right where she stood. Gleefully, they tore her body straight down the middle and severed each limb one at a time, screaming "Bastard of Cid! Bastard of Cid!" all the while commencing the dirty deed.

Squall stepped forward unaware of what he was doing. "The fuck is going on here!"

The Guardian turnd abruptly to him, and the two SeeDs watched. "State your rank, person!" the raspy yellow hat roared.

"41269."

"Leonhart. Good! What side are you on?"

"Side?"

"Yes! Side!" If the Guardian was at first cheeful, even if he didn't show it, he seemed to be rapidly losing that edge.

Out of the corner of his eye, Squall saw the two SeeDs start walking slowly towards him. They knew who he was, and they had the gall to touch the hilts of their sabres on their belts. He asked the Guardian, "What is going on here?"

"Goddammit!!! I'm the one asking the questions here! You're supposed to follow orders."

"The fuck are you shitting for?"

The two SeeDs stopped walking. The Guardian gave a guttural sound. "Fucking hell. You're with _Cid_, aren't you?" He uttered Cid's name with a visceral hiss, so insipid that Squall felt utterly repulsed. "Good gracious me, I fucking knew you were a bad seed, Leonhart."

Squall blinked at the crazy man, but the Guardian snapped his fingers at the two SeeDs, and they charged. Squall grabbed the hilt of the crappy sabre and flipped it several circles out of his hilt, corkscrewed to the left, and plunged it into the gut of the foremost SeeD. Quickly, he churned up one Firaga and shot it at the second SeeD. A ball of orange light smacked the SeeD's stomach and stopped his movement. Slowly the ball of light ripped his body apart in flames before exploding in a large molten fireball that incinerated his flesh in five seconds flat.

Squall regarded the enormous event he had just committed before glaring at the Guardian once more. "I... say... again. What is going on here?!!"

Quistis and Rinoa looked at him, astonished at what he had just done. Equally more astonished they were at the act the two SeeDs had previously done to the female cadet, her body now cut in pieces on the beautiful campus greens.

The Guardian uttered another despicable guttural sound and produced a whistle. The blow emitted from it caused something to rustle in the bushes, and a deformed plant-like creature popped out. It was more despicable than the creatures fought in the training center. Five long spindly arms draped in claw-like pincers sprouted out of a bulbous ruby body. A maw resembling a Venus flytrap attached to the ruby body, while the body was supported on three vine-like legs. It looked blind but agile and alert enough to recognize distant sounds. The Guardian laughed again. "NORG is the true ruler of Garden!!"

"NORG?" Quistis asked, but was cut off for explanation.

The plant creature, a despicable thing affectionately called a Grat, lunged forward and barfed out a thick pasty vomit that coated the former instructor and lightly drenched Rinoa. Quistis felt an instant poison inflict her, but the princess escaped intoxication. Squall whirled around and ripped a slice in the ruby body stumbling the Grat in its stance. The Grat responded with a punch of its arms across his chest. Rinoa fired a dart into the maw that embedded into the Grat's neck and continued to slice downwards, spilling much of its green blood across the grass. Angelo barked in approval, pawed the grass violently, and then rushed forward to Squall's surprise. With muzzle to the ground, the dog lunged forward with great intensity and slammed into the body of the Grat tearing a large hole in the ruby flesh. The Grat stumbled to its side, and Quistis fought her poisoned state long enough to swing a lethal arc of her whip that severed the Grat's body in half. That action, though, caused the poison to intensify, and she ended up vomiting onto the ground.

Yet, Angelo was even more helpful. A trick he had learned in _Pet Pals_, he examined the dead bodies of the two SeeDs and found a blue vial in one of their pockets. Barking madly, he urged Rinoa to come to him, and she picked up the Antidote vial. Giving him two cookies as a reward, she hastily inserted the needle into Quistis's skin and plunged the liquid in. Quistis felt her stomach wrench from the effect, and after one more cough-up she felt loads better.

"Fucking hell!" screeched the Guardian. All three of them turned to the raging man, and their eyes widened. He threw off his hat and disrobed in a flash. His insectoid body, hidden within the massive red robes, unsheathed from their sticky constraints; he resembled a cockroach, a seven-foot tall roach with a massive girth. His cockroach body furled in the newfound breeze. One hairy leg hooked onto the scepter that lay attached to his back and brandished the blunt weapon out wildly in front of his body. His face, hidden for so many years by that horrible ornate yellow hat, was a roach's maw. Three sets of mandibles allowed for a crusty and raspy voice. He had beady yellow eyes and peeling molten flesh brown like the Centran dirt. "Bastards of Cid, you will die!!"

He lunged forward with the scepter and met Squall's sabre. A connection high and a connection low. He whirled around and struck it again to the side. Angelo came around and bit his ass, stumbling him to one knee. Quistis swung the Slaying Tail and caught the roach's jugular and plucked it out spraying black blood everywhere. The roach sprang up again and received a dart in the chest from Rinoa and four deep gashes across the stomach from Squall. The roach hobbled backwards and released a dark gravity spell onto the trio that plunged straight down on them and caved them to the ground. It was a weak spell, but it bought him enough time to rout, his black blood spilling over the ground. He had made the exit gates, before the upper half of his body was sliced apart. Squall got off the ground with only minor wounds opened up on him to find a male SeeD looking down at the horrible dead Guardian. He looked strangely familiar.

The SeeD looked up at Squall and the girls and hurried over. Squall held the blackened blade at the ready, but the SeeD sheathed his double-bladed weapon. "No need for that, Squall!"

The girls got up confused, and Squall slowly set his blade down. "Now, who are you?"

"You don't remember?" The man shrugged his shoulders in an exuberant way. "SeeD graduation day. One of only five members that passed, even though Seifer didn't really graduate."

Squall recognized the face. Not the name. "I think I remember now."

"23231. Dylan Williams. However, you can call me Nida."

"Ah, Williams. I remember you." A faint smile came across Squall's face, something that surprised Williams and the two girls. Squall shook the man's hand. "Why do you want to be called Nida?"

"That's my middle name. Damn parents thought 'Dylan' would be a better first name."

"Ah."

Nida brought out the double-bladed sword again and looked defiant. "The Garden's in chaos, Squall. The Garden Master's faction has unsealed the locks on the training center, and now all the monsters inhabiting there are being set loose throughout the Academy."

"What, all of them?"

"Yes. Even the T-Rexaur."

"Son of a bitch. Why?"

Another explosion rocked a building somewhere north of them, accompanied by the unmistakable roar of the giant dinosaur. More smokestacks rose up.

"I dunno, Squall. Now's not the time for explanations."

"You're damn right there's not. We don't need this shit right now. Missiles are heading this way."

"Missiles!" Nida looked at the girls and received nods in return. "Where?"

"From Galbadia. They've already laid Trabia to waste."

"Damn. I don't know why that's happening, but I'll try to calm everyone down."

"That'd be most appreciated."

Nida twirled the double-bladed sword once. "Watch your back, buddy, it's hell in there!" He ran north, and the trio followed. Across the commons, they encountered more dead bodies both of humans and monsters at the fountain and turnstyle areas. The pathway leading to the great circular disc came into view and was strewn in red, green, and black blood. Three SeeDs, four cadets, a junior classmen, eight Grats, and a Guardian lay dead on the path. Pools of blood and guts splashed across the white cement. The ivory tower and the seven crystalline buildings came into view; the Quad building was a gaping hole with fresh fire and smoke eschewing out of it, and the Parking Lot was about to explode as well. To the northwest by the Cafeteria, a major fight was sparring between cadets and SeeDs fighting for Headmaster Cid against two cockroach Guardians and a plethora of Grats. The trio watched as Grat after Grat eliminated the nubile cadets one-by-one. Thankfully, a proficient SeeD obilterated a frontline of Grats with a spectacular thunderbolt. One of the roaches retaliated with a thunderous smack of his scepter that bashed the brains out of the SeeD.

Angelo alerted them and then pounced the sneaky Grat behind them, ripping off two of its five spindly arms. Rinoa fired first with a dart and then a great Blizzaga spell that gutted the creature with tremendous frost damage. Quistis fired a Thundaga spell into the second Grat charging behind the fallen one, and a great electrical storm ripped open the ruby flesh in four separate areas.

Squall looked at the sabre and noticed the blade was incredible damaged. He saw a third Grat approaching, raised the blade behind him, focused, and then hurled it fast into the maw. It embedded and propelled the creature like a ragdoll end over end across the walkway.

"Wow," Quistis cooed.

"Your weapon," Rinoa whined.

"I can't do anything with that," Squall muttered. "Head for the dorms!"

"The dorms?"

"I keep an extra Revolver in there, just for emergencies like these."

"What?"

"He's right," Quistis said. "He comes prepared."

They ran onto the disc and made an easterly trek away from the major northwest battle. Smaller battles frayed in the southeast and northeast, but all the action was apparantly happening in the buildings themselves. They could see through the crystal Guardians directing and SeeDs duking. The battle was intensely bloodletting, and the casualty rate was high. Squall could deduce something of a gang war was taking place, all in the name of both Headmaster Cid and this Garden Master NORG thing. From what he could tell at first glance, Squall deduced that Cid had lost thirty men, while NORG had lost twenty. Yet, the playing field seemed to be at a draw since Cid had all the experienced SeeDs on his side.

The Library was for the moment safe, as was the Infirmary way on the western side. On the steps leading to the Ivory tower, dozens of students were routing to get into the classrooms; thankfully, the Guardians hadn't spotted their location yet. The Quad was flaming, and fights were still happening there. The Cafeteria and Parking Lot looked the next to go under, for several sections of crystalline metal on the Lot section were slipping downwards and the Cafeteria had three smokestacks wafting out of it. The Training Center was busted wide open with dozens of combatants from both factions splattering each other with magic and swords. The distant roars of the dinosaur were having great effect on directing the battle more into the sunlight-- any minute now the goddamn monstrosity would emerge. The Dorms were free of damage, but several swordfights were happening near the entrance.

Three NORG SeeDs were fighting three of Cid's SeeDs, and a stalemate was occurring. The Missile Warning trio narrowly sidestepped a fantastic firebomb attack from one of NORG's. The bomb tore off the arm of one of Cid's; the SeeD fell to the ground and gave one last lunging throw of his shuriken. The four-bladed weapon sailed through the defenses and impaled a NORG SeeD, flinging his body over the edge of the walkway and down into the murky pool waters below. The uninjured four SeeDs spilled the battle into the dorms and eventually drew blood by bashing each other into dorm rooms. One SeeD fired an electrical storm and burned a large hole in the wall, slaying down a frightened junior classmen hiding in the back corner. Cid's SeeDs fell injured to the floor and looked up helplessly at the two barraging opponents. Yet, NORG's followers noticed Squall and smiled wickedly, setting their hands glowing in the air for a magic attack. Quistis wasted no time and produced the musty red GF orb. She could think of no other way to wake it, so she slammed it to the ground. A large ripple swam toward the two SeeDs, knocking them off-balance, followed by a small cone of light that appeared on the battered ceiling and shot straight into a specific point on the floor. A hole appeared, and something green poked its head out. Everyone watched the small green creature look left and right before chirping delightfully. It leaped into the air and twirled in three circles, before levitating smoothly. It was no more than three feet tall with an unusually spiked headdress. A bright shiny ruby was impaled in its forehead, and it touched it gently creating a red spark that shot straight out at Squall, Quistis, and Rinoa. Chirping happily, it sank back into the hole, and the environment returned to normal.

Squall and Rinoa looked at each other with confusion on their faces. The two NORG SeeDs laughed at the effect and said something incomprehensible. Alighting their hands once more, they fired an enormous firebolt at the three and laughed some more. The trio watched as the bolt came, and then they watched as a dark green field met the firebolt and encapsulated it. They could feel the force of the contact and the redirection of the magic. The green shield twisted the firebolt spell back to the SeeDs and then shot it at breakneck speed at them. The two NORG SeeDs gulped and were severely burned by the bolt.

"Ha, I figured so," Quistis said with arms crossed on her chest. "Carbuncle. A dafty little creature."

"Carbuncle?" Squall asked.

"A GF that inhabited Trabia for a time. There's a shrine dedicated to him in the Dragon Forests. I'm sure Selphie would've recognized him immediately. That was a Reflect spell he cast on us, rejects all magic cast and uses it against them. Wonderful spell." They could feel the green shield dissipate. "Unfortunately, it doesn't last too long, I'm afraid."

An explosion ripped apart behind them, and they turned to see the Parking Lot cleave in two. Several cars inside burst into fireballs, no doubt leaking precious fuel. More explosions were ripe to happen.

Squall checked the watch: 1530. Time seemed to be creeping faster.

The battle in the dorms was finished at the moment, but there was blood and destruction all over the entrance. Several of the rooms were busted open, too, with dead bodies inside. _A raid must've happened,_ Squall thought,_ Dammit! What is happening here?_ He found his room near the back of the first hall with the door busted open. When he came in, a fireball spewed at him singing his chest and flinging him out into the hall. The NORG cadet inside howled madly and charged out. Angelo leaped forward with jaws snapped firmly on the cadet's crotch. The cadet dropped the staff he held, and Squall helped Rinoa pry the dog's vice grip off. The cadet had some serious long-term damage, and he made no effort to get back up. Squall ignored the burns on his chest and entered his ransacked room. Cursing to himself, he searched everywhere for the spare Revolver. Quistis and Rinoa took a short moment to take in all the wonderful battle intricacies of his room, and they almost could not stifle a giggle. They were about to lose themselves when Squall, thankfully, grinned widely and pulled out the shiny gunblade from his dresser. It was the weakest gunblade on the market, yet it was still powerful enough to cut down any cadet, SeeD, or even a Guardian. He found a box of bullets with six spare ones left, and he loaded them into the chamber. Giving a click-click, he holstered the weapon and proceeded out. His eye, though, chanced upon a window from the bathroom, and he noticed his godawful physique. He had dried blood on his face and healing scars.

He would get Seifer for this.

Another explosion ripped from the Parking Lot when they exited the dorms, followed by another. The entire roof fell to the ground, crushing five escaping students and routing at least six dozen all across the circular disc.

"That must've been the first shelter area," Squall muttered sadly.

The battle was still raging by the Cafeteria and inside the Quad. Shielding his eyes from the Sun, Squall saw small strafes hitting the inside of the Library and a nasty scrape occurring in the Infirmary.

"You're back!"

They turned to the voice and found Raijin yelling and running toward them. Fujin was right behind. "Damn, I didn't believe him when he said you might escape."

"Him?" Squall asked.

"Seifer. We dropped him off at Galbadia before heading back here. He said you all would probably escape, and, ya know, you did."

"EXPLOSION," Fujin snapped.

"Holy shit, yeah! You blew the damn thing up, too, ya know."

Squall looked at the two of them first before nodding. "Can you please tell me what's going on here?"

Raijin scratched the back of his head. "Ah, I really cannot help you there, ya know."

"No, I don't know. Why not?!"

"We just got here about an hour ago. Here's what I can gather. At first, everything was pretty quiet. Yet, the Guardian people were sayin something bout roundin' up the SeeDs, ya know. Tensions mounted very quickly, and then all of a sudden somebody fired a shot and a gang war erupted. Now, everybody's siding with the Garden Master or with the Headmaster. There's fighting everywhere, ya know!"

Fujin made a nasty sound in the back of her throat. "DISTURBING."

"Oh my god, yes, ya know. All the hard work the Disciplinary Committee made is gone. Kaput, ya know."

"Goddammit," Squall snapped, scaring the hell out of all of them, "why are SeeDs being targeted? Where is the Headmaster?"

"Ah, hell, I don't know."

"This is important. We need to see him now. Galbadian missiles are heading this way."

"What! Galbadian missiles!"

"Yes, the other three of our team are trying to stop them right now, but I need everyone here at this Garden evacuated. Immediately!" Squall gave the last word a sweeping fling of his arm.

"Great Eden, we got to get out of here, ya know!"

Fujin kicked the back of his leg, and Raijin let out a shrill yell. "Dammit, alright! Don't worry, Squall. We'll warn everyone. Or as many as we can find willing to listen!"

"Make sure that's all of them!" Squall ordered.

"Right as rain, ya know."

"CAUTION!"

"Yeah, ya know. The fightin is intense everywhere!"

"Wait," Rinoa asked, "who do you support here?"

"Ha!" Raijin laughed, hands on his hips. "Seifer, of course, always have always will."

The duo left and and went straight to the ensuing battle at the Cafeteria. The Guardian in charge lunged forward at Raijin, but the brown-skinned burly man unleashed a hard jab from his quarterstaff into the roach flesh. Fujin unhooked her purple-spiked shuriken and boomeranged it around in a circle that decapitated the Guardian in one fell swoop. Several NORG supporters attempted to flee, but Raijin somersaulted in front of them and halted their advances. The duo then corralled the dozen fighters in a circle with enough force to beat off the three Grats still left over. As the battle ended, Raijin and Fujin began to spread the news. The dozen students listened intently and begrudgingly shook hands on the deal.

Squall unsheathed the Revolver. "We need to find Cid."

"Where could he be?" Rinoa asked.

"I haven't the faintest idea." He checked the watch again: 1540.

"Let's go to the Library," Quistis suggested. "If the Guardians have just struck there, then maybe that's where he's hiding."

Squall nodded and led the way. Nida, Raijin, and Fujin were spreading the word; more and more cadets and SeeDs were dropping arms and routing. Squall frowned, though, for the people weren't fleeing the Academy so much as finding minute holes to hide in _within_ the Academy. _Dammit, were they telling them the wrong information?_ The battle in the Training Center was still raging, even though the majority had fled from the jungle interior. Squall didn't want to see what it looked like in there.

Their eyes caught two Guardians racing into the library corridors, scepters drawn, but still robed. The trio quickened the pace and entered the crystalline complex. Several librarian were inside cowering by the bookshelves against the Guardians and one maniacal SeeD. A girl with pigtails was being singled out by the SeeD. He slapped her across the face and said something negative along the lines of her having a crush on a tattooed person. The Guardians laughed despicably when he drew a knife from his belt and held it to her chin. Squall wasted no time, leapt forward, sliced open the backs of both the Guardians, and fired one bullet into the spine of the SeeD. The man dropped the knife and writhed on the ground in agony.

"Gah!!" snapped one of the Guardians. "Another one of Cid's followers!"

Angelo barked in disapproval and pounced the Guardian. The dog clamored up to his neck and started tearing into the nasty flesh. Disliking the taste, he spat the goo out of his mouth, allowing for the Guardian to brush him off. Angelo fell to the floor and saw the scepter swinging toward him. Rinoa fired two darts into the scepter arm, and Quistis electrified the body with a Thundaga spell. The yellow magicka orb was dimming now with each continued use, so she discarded it and brandished the Slaying Tail.

The second Guardian looked at his wounded partner and then blew on his whistle. The wounded Guardian transformed into a Grat, as healthy as ever, and lunged forward with a belching attack of vomit. The spray narrowly missed Angelo and Rinoa and minorly scraped Squall and Quistis. Nasty green goo covered the walls and damaged several ancient texts. The head librarian grabbed a staff she kept in the back copy room and conjured up a Flare spell at the Guardian. The Guardian transformed into its roachlike appearance and deployed a flimsy Reflect spell on himself. The Flare spell was more powerful, though, and it destroyed the Reflect shield and mildly scarred the brown exterior. Mandibles clicking, the roach lunged forward with its gnarled scepter and crushed the checkout desk with a giant swing.

Squall spun in a circle and sliced open the ruby body of the Grat. Its green blood poured in droves on the library carpet, and its spindly arms flailed wildly. The five pincers smacked the walls and bookcases, sliced open the leg of a female cadet, and gashed the chest open of the Guardian. Rinoa formed a Blizzaga spell, the last of her usage, and flung it into the gaping hole in the Guardian, spraying his roach blood everywhere in the room.

The male SeeD of Cid's stepped over the dead maniacal SeeD and knelt beside the scared bleeding cadet. Her leg was torn open from the deadly pincer, and she was going into shock. The head librarian rushed out with a Curaga spell brimming in her hand, and she applied it as swiftly as she could.

The girl with the pigtails looked at Squall and smiled, "Thanks, Mr. Squall. He was about to lead all of them here to start a search."

"Is Cid here?" he asked, growing hopeful.

"No," the male SeeD said, "we don't know where he is. The Guardians have already destroyed countless precious documents in here, and we're trying with all our might to keep them all safe."

"We're spreading the NORG followers thin," the head librarian said wiping her bloody hand with a rag. "It's not my idea, but it seems to be working to stave off an increase of casualties."

"Whose idea is it?" Quistis asked.

"Xu's," the pigtail girl said, "she took charge immediately when the fighting started."

"Where is she?" Squall asked.

The three uninjured students shook their heads. The cadet with the gash in her leg, fast closing up, uttered weakly, "She... was.. over..at the ..in-infirmary... just a short.. while ago."

"Right, listen you four, Galbadian missiles are heading this way."

"What?" all four of them yelled in unison.

"Yes, no time to explain, just take my word for it. I've got three helpers already spreading the news. We need to stop this fighting at once and leave as quickly as we can."

"Damn, we can't do that, Squall," the male SeeD said.

"Why not?"

"We need to find shelter here and then fix up what's broken afterwards."

Squall looked at Rinoa and Quistis, who seemed to be pressuring him to leave the scene. He sighed and turned back to the four. "Just get as many people as you can and find shelter at once!"

"Yes, sir!!" they all yelled, to his annoyance. He hated being addressed in a leadership role.

The trio plus Angelo left the Library and took note of the Guardians. Six of them had grown wings-- nasty wasp-like feathers-- and were flying incessantly around the ivory towers trying to pick off routing SeeDs and cadets. The fighting was dying down thanks to the incredible work of Nida, Raijin, and Fujin; but, the path to the Infirmary was now engaged in a firefight. Students still loyal to NORG were battling the routing students. Grats and bomb-like creatures now swarmed the circular disc. The Bombs spouted fireballs at several junior classmen incinerating three of them and injuring four others. A couple of SeeDs sprayed ice magicka at three of the nine Bomb creatures, obliterating their fiery bodies in a melted goo.

One of the six flying palmettos spotted Squall, Rinoa, and Quistis. "Die, Bastards of Cid!!" He flew down so fast Squall could not react in time. The brown body smashed into Squall and rocketed him into the air and onto his back. Several times, he rolled and his back was bruised and cut. The girls whirled in fright at Squall's injury then whirled again to see four of the Guardians watch another one race down towards them. It twisted its shape, though, and formed into a new type of monster. The Guardian somersaulted across the battered disc walkway and transformed into a four-legged creature with gold and blue skin, leathery to the touch. A snarling muzzle dripping with green saliva matched equally with golden terrifying eyes. It gave a loud howl and sprang towards Rinoa and gashed her front with two powerful claws. The raven-haired princess fell backwards, and Angelo rushed to defend his master.

The other four Guardians circled around and drew their scepters for cheapshot attacks. "The Garden belongs to NORG," they yelled in unison. They attacked at once. Quistis Trepe drew the Slaying Tail and flung it out in a wide arc. It caught the stomach of one Guardian, even as a second whacked her head with a scepter. The former instructor fell to the ground, and so did her ensnared hook. The plucked Guardian flailed wildly against the nasty wound and accidentally hit a third Guardian with the sharpened end of the scepter, ripping the roach's head off. Quistis clumsily took the bladed whip out and then received a blow from the fourth Guardian in the back.

Squall found the Guardian who had attacked him attempting to smash a scepter to his face. The gunblader dodged a swing and punched the Guardian in the gut. Flipping the Revolver out, he slashed the stomach open and then the neck, and the roach fell to the floor dead. He grabbed both of the GFs, Diablos and Brothers. The three surviving Guardians looked at Squall and flew towards him, out of the reach of Angelo's snapping jaws. Squall closed his eyes for a brief second, prayed for their assistance, and was met with approval.

The three Guardians stopped in mid-flight as the light dimmed to a purplish hue. A great dark orb appeared in the sky, and a great ripple appeared in the floor. The dark orb grew wet with pus, and Diablos appeared with a maniacal gleam in his eye. From the great ripple, some of the floorboards came apart and the two mythic brothers appeared, Sacred and Minotaur. The three Guardians paused once and then attacked with a sharpened scepter thrown straight into Sacred's bulky chest. Minotaur jumped up and deflected it with his huge morning star, and Diablos created a furious ball of gravital magic and hurled it at two of the Guardians. Their bodies warped in the mega-light and microwaved into millions of bloody pieces. Sacred grabbed his maul, leapt up towards the last Guardian, and cleaved the body in two.

Diablos chuckled excitedly, flipped over several times in a circle, and disappeared in a cloud of bats. The Brothers stayed for a minute, as more Grats sprang up from the front gates and the Quad. The disgusting plant creatures hurled vomit goo at the two mythic summons, splattering both of them; however, the brothers were impervious to poison, and they just laughed as the sticky vomit dripped harmlessly down their chests. The dozen-man squad advanced as fast as their viney legs could carry them, and the Brothers met them with mauls cleaved. The battle lasted twelve seconds, a second for each bulbous body exploded into millions of green bits. The pathway was murky in cold, green blood. A cackling roar erupted from the burning Quad, and another golden blue leathery monster hurled out of a broken window. Snarl and spittle dripped from it, and it charged the smaller Guardian Force and barrelled him into a stone pillar. Sacred came to his brother's aid and smashed his maul hard on the spittle creature's tail. The creature flailed and cawed, and Minotaur signalled Sacred down below. Sacred obeyed and plunged his hands down into the floorboards. Somehow, he garned a mysterious strength and uprooted a massive chunk of floor that the golden blue creature sat on and hurled it into the air. Then, with a comedic effect, the two Brothers played a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. One fist, two fist, and then the third fist came, and the little Brother mixed the count up. Sacred brought out a rock, and Minotaur changed in mid-swing to paper, pissing off Sacred immensely. Yet, the little Brother ignored his brother's qualms and hurled him into the air straight into the falling chunk of floor. At a hundred miles an hour, Sacred slammed into the chunk and the golden blue creature atop it splintered into fragments of bloody pieces. Both Guardian Forces vanished in a pinpoint of light, and the bloody broken floorboards collapsed onto the ruined walkway.

Squall, Quistis, and Rinoa looked at each other in confused happiness and then cleaned themselves up. Squall checked the watch and saw that 1550 went immediately to 1551. He sighed and scratched his head furiously.

"Are we running out of time?" Quistis asked.

He scratched his head again and continued walking. "That's an understatement."

The Quad held intact, and more people ran out of it with Raijin and Fujin running behind them. They saw the trio and gave a thumbs-up. Squall returned it, and the three of them entered the corridor leading towards the infirmary. The air was musty and stale, for the fighting had disabled the air conditioning units and collapsed several of the ceiling glass panels. Shattered glass strewn the floor, and several blood stains emanated from the corpses of seven Grats, a Bomb creature, and two cadets that bore Garden Master insignia on their jackets. Shouts gesticulated from one lone Guardian who was at the end of the hallway with a rapidly waving finger at a large group of students. Both factions were at a standoff at the entrance to the infirmary and were evenly divided between each other, eight man a piece. Blades and staves were drawn and at the ready, and the Guardian was getting impatient.

"Kill all Bastards of Cid!"

"Really, I can't do this," yelled the leader of this particular group of Garden Master followers. "Jameson's my friend, sir."

"He's not your friend, you squalid piece of shit," the Guardian yelled. "He's a follower of the sadistic terrorist Cid Kramer. You call that a friend?"

"I... I.."

"Enough!" The Guardian slammed a clean window to bits with his gnarled scepter. "Kill them!!!"

A subordinate of the leader shot forward first and slammed his sword against the blue shield of one of Cid's followers. The whole group erupted then, and the Guardian cackled madly. Yet, the nonsense ended quickly for Squall, Rinoa, and Quistis made their presence known with the slick unsheathing sounds of their weapons.

Only one cadet was injured: the NORG fighter who had drawn first. He had a wound to his stomach, and the fifteen other students were crowding around him trying to stop the bleeding. The Guardian whirled between the two sets of people before finally turning all enraged attention on Squall. "Leonhart, you have murdered dozens of my colleagues! You will be stripped of your rank and sentenced to capital punishment for this!"

"Oh, please," cried a voice as the infirmary doors burst open. Nida appeared, bandaging up a wound on his arm. "You swing a harsh scepter, Guardian, but you deserve death more than any of us."

"Worthless fools!" The Guardian uttered the nastiest guttural sound any of them had ever heard, a horrible nails-on-chalkboard tone and rapidly thrust the robes off of him. Two of his cockroach arms smashed the windows by Squall's group, flooding sharp glass over the trio. The roach doubled quickly and hurled himself over the sixteen students with raised sharpened scepter toward Nida. The SeeD stiffened his nerves and brought the double-bladed sword around in an arc and clanged against the roach's scepter. Squall joined the battle and ripped open the roach's back. The roach stumbled and fell into the glass window but pulled himself back from a death below. He sputtered and clicked and swung hard at Squall, knocking the gunblader to the floor. Nida swung hard and opened up the gap in the roach's back. Squall loaded a second bullet to the ready and blew the fucker's mandible head off, spraying black blood all over the wall.

"Damn straight, Squall," Nida cheered. "They don't call you the gunblade master for nothing!"

"Thanks, but we can't have this anymore."

"I know. This is the only area I've found that was still problematic. I'm hoping the rest of Garden is under control."

The NORG fighter groaned from his pain, as one of the students pressed a little too hard on the wound. The infirmary door opened again, and the good doctor Kadowaki appeared with shock evident on her face. "Great Eden, I've had enough of this shit!"

Squall, Nida, and the sixteen students reeled in shock at the coarse statement from the elderly medic. Dr. Kadowaki with a foul mouth? Preposterous.

Quistis laughed, drawing their attention. "That's the Kadowaki I remember four years ago."

"Damn right, Quistis." She looked down at the bleeding cadet. "Can you stand up, Thompson?"

NORG fighter Thompson spat up blood but infuriatingly declined the outstretched hand with a jerk of his head. "I'm more than fine, ma'am."

"Oh, yeah? Then stand for me."

Thompson hesitated at first, aware of his false bravado, and then he pushed himself up. His stomach ripped slightly, and a huge tremor flooded his spine, and he gasped in great pain.

"See, you silly boy, you're as hurt as they come."

"I'm with the Garden Master, dammit! Why are you insisting on helping me?"

"My god, we can't have such ludicrousy at this point in time. I don't care which side you all are on. An injury's an injury. We _need_ to take care of those wounds. Now." She turned and addressed the fifteen other students. "Clear out for safety, alright? We don't need any more fighting here." They saluted and left, and she turned to Squall and Nida and rapped them both on the shoulders. "Don't just stand there. Give me a hand."

Carefully, Squall hooked his arms under both of Thompson's, and Nida carefully grabbed the legs. They took care to get only small winces out of him and carried him into the infirmary and onto a bed. Thompson thanked them shyly and then fell asleep, still clutching gently his stomach. Kadowaki inserted a needle in his arm and hooked him up to a defibrillator. "Factions. Sides. What nonsense," she said repeatedly.

Squall checked the watch and double-checked the clock on the wall. Two minutes to four o clock. _Any minute now._ "Doctor, where is Cid?"

Kadowaki cleaned her hands in the sink and looked toward the two boys and two girls. "I have no idea. But Xu might know. She was here just twenty minutes ago, getting ready to go meet with him. I think Cid's hiding in the tower, if I'm not mistaken."

"This is very important. Galbadian missiles are heading this way, straight from the Desert Missile Base. They've already destroyed Trabia."

"Oh my, then I have to stay here."

"What?"

"What if somebody gets hurt?"

"Well, yeah. That's probably what will happen."

"Squall, don't be silly now. There's no one on this campus who's better skilled at medicine than me. I'll be fine. Find Cid and Xu and see if you can put a stop to this."

"I'll come with you, Squall," Nida said, excitedly," this sounds like a mission I can handle."

Squall sighed. His prior planning was going up in smoke. It seemed no one wanted to leave the Academy. "Fine. We'll check the tower. Find some place to lay low at once."

"Be careful," Kadowaki said.

* * *

Squall, Nida, Quistis, and Rinoa ran out of the infirmary corridor with Angelo panting fast behind them. The Academy was bloodied and broken, but the fighting had ceased. Raijin and Fujin stood on the steps near the ivory tower and were waving at them. They jogged across the broken disc pathway and reached their exuberant poses.

Before pleasantries and questionings could commence, a deafening roar erupted from the Training Center.

One lone Guardian in his palmetto transformation flew out of the Center just in time to escape the crashing of the great goldent doors barring entrance to the crystalling facility. The T-Rexaur emerged, bloodied but stronger than ever, and let out a triumphant roar. It weighed a ton, and the support structure on the walkway looked ready to give. The dimwitted palmetto Guardian chuckled at the SeeD's way and did not notice the dinosaur's hungry eyes. The great T-rexaur swooped its head first low and then sideways and caught the Guardian in between its jaws. A great snapping of bones was heard, and the roach body split into two large pieces. Lots of black blood splashed the broken floor below. The dinosaur let out a triumphant roar, spilling pieces of body parts everywhere in the air. It spotted the half-dozen squad and rushed madly toward them, head bent down low and gaping maw wide open. Angelo fled to the dorms, and the group split into two directions as the dinosaur crashed through barricades, smashed up the floor, and ultimately came within inches of gobbling up Raijin and Quistis. Fujin readied her purple-spiked shuriken in her left hand and a wind spell in her right hand. With quick movements, she cast the Aero wind spell at the dinosaur's head temporarily blinding its left yellow eye, and then she flung the shuriken directly into the pupil. The dinosaur reared up and roared fiercely, flinging the bloodied shuriken away in the distance. The creature started madly stepping hard on the floor, creating a hole in one area that stumbled the T-Rexaur's footing.

Squall leapt backwards and flung a Firaga spell. The fire caught the dinosaur's belly but did little damage to its hide. Squall cursed and got smacked hard in the chest by a sharp thrust of the dinosaur's tail. Quistis brandished her Slaying Tail and flung once but missed as the T-Rexaur dislodged its footing and dodged the strike. It jabbed forward towards her, and she escaped direct impact. A few teeth slashed her back, and she rolled painfully along the broken pathway. The tail whirled around, flipped her in a circle, and flung her further down the walkway.

Rinoa fired a full clip of ten darts from her Cardinal that all made contact in the dinosaur's thick belly fat. The creature roared in pain and slammed a hind leg hard on the floor, opening up another hole by Rinoa's feet and plummeting her down to a lower tier of the circular disc, knocking her unconscious. Angelo, infuriated, doubled back from his rout and propelled himself toward the dinosaur and barrelled into it. The T-Rexaur yelped in pain as big chunk of its meaty flesh ripped off and splattered Angelo's sleek sandy coating. The dinosaur retaliated and flung Angelo hard across the floor with a swift thrust of its tail.

Nida helped Squall up and together with Raijin, the three powerhouses advanced upon the wounded T-Rexaur. The double-bladed sword sounded off after the gunblade fired a bullet straight into the dinosaur's chestplate. Nida slashed multiple times, switching angles and patterns as both steel blades cut deep gashes in the brown thick hide. Raijin ran to the rear and climbed up the bastard's hind leg and crawled up on the dinosaur's back. He conjured up a lightning flare on the end of his quarterstaff and then jammed the lit end onto the top of the T-Rexaur's spine. Electrical energy shot straight down every bone of the creature and stumbled it further. Squall shot a fourth bullet into the skull of the dinosaur and was amazed at the creature's vitality.

Rinoa woke up with a wound on the back of her head. She felt her stomach go queasy when she reached back to touch it and found blood on her hand. Yet, she summoned as much strength as she could muster and crawled back up the leaning piles of rock, stubble, and floorboard. She saw the men fighting brilliantly and Angelo's bloody frame nuzzling Quistis to her feet. Fujin grabbed her shoulders and hauled her up to the levelled walkway. She had retrieved her bloody, pus-coated shuriken, and together they encircled the fighters and shot both their weapons into the hide of the dinosaur. The T-Rexaur howled furiously, yet refused to die. It stumbled more and more, but its maw nearly twice gobbled up all three of the men. One such jarring attack cut Raijin's back apart severely and flung him wildly into the air. The dinosaur whirled quickly to their amazement and flung Nida into the air with its tail. Squall brought the Revolver up and sliced off a piece of the dinosaur's tail. The T-Rexaur stumbled hard and took a long time to get up. Squall grew pissed at the fact that the time was draining by too quickly. He twirled his blade in a circle and recalled his Renzokuken training. Closing his eyes briefly, he let the memories flood through him, and then he charged the dinosaur. He slashed open the left kneecap, somersaulted up onto the wobbly right shin, uppercutted the belly and abdomen, leapt off of the chest, gashed open the neck, and then sliced horizontally the ridge above the eyes. The dinosaur stumbled backwards, and Squall twirled gently to the ground, and he wasn't finished. The adrenaline rush filled him, and he sped toward the T-Rexaur at a furious clip with lightning flaring all around him. He brought the Revolver down to the ground and then uppercutted furiously while leaping into the air. Lightning sparks accompanied the severe cut and sliced a deep gash from the dinosaur's crotch all the way to its maw. Splashes of red inchor wafted away, and the T-Rexaur drunk from loss of blood, collapsed in a big heap on one of the many garden fields dotting the Academy. Squall twirled back to the ground and flipped the gunblade back to its hilt, the adrenaline rush subsiding.

"Hell yeah, ya know!" Raijin cheered, applying pressure to the open wound on his back.

"HURT," Fujin cried running toward him.

"Don't worry about me, Fu. Squall, hurry. If the missiles are coming, we've wasted too much time here."

"Right, Raijin. You two get to safety at once." Squall watched them nod their heads and hobble to the Infirmary, before addressing the other tired companions. He checked the watch, and his heart sank. 1610. "God, I hope we're not too late."

* * *

It was 1612 when the forty missiles left Deling Kilo Sector No Three. They sailed through the air, twelve minutes behind schedule due to the power failure but well sure of their destination.

Balamb Garden would be toast by 1630.

* * *

The elevator ride to the second floor of the tower was too slow for the time. The hydraulic doors opened up, and all four of them unsheathed their blades. The students were here huddled in fetal positions. Squall frowned in disappointment; this was absolutely the worst place to hide out from a missile strike. Yet, he couldn't waste time now to clear out the house. That was for sure.

At least fifty junior classmen, another fifty non-militant students, and some seventy cadets and full-fledged SeeDs crammed the narrow hallways in the entire second floor. The classrooms were filled, and the desks were pushed aside computers and all. As the four-man group along with a trotting pus-soaked Angelo carefully trekked through the waiting bodies, movement trickled by somewhere in the back.

A woman with short auburn hair sashayed from one classroom to the next.

"Xu!!" Quistis called out, directing most of the crowd's attention to her and then to the high-ranking female SeeD.

Hesitant at first, the woman pulled out a magicka-laced mace and seemed slightly defiant. "Whose side are you on?"

"Neither side. We need Cid now," Squall demanded. "Galbadian missiles are on their way, and time is not of the essence."

Xu relaxed her face. She hadn't wanted to strike in the first place anyway. Hearing him say the same thing the students were gabbering about, she felt reasonably certain that that was the truth. "It's been a mess in here for at least an hour."

"I can see that. Where is the Headmaster?"

"Where he has always been. Up on the third floor."

Murmurs of both astonishment and understanding crept through the crowd, and Squall looked puzzled. "He's been up there the whole time?"

"Of course. The idea is to make it _look_ like he's somewhere where he's not. Those roach monstrosities won't ever think to find him up here."

"I'm glad by that, but why?"

Xu reached the four of them and played with her hair a bit. "They're only concerned about money. Not about logic. This Garden Master they speak of is all of their concern as well. Plus, holograms are a perfect tool to fool the Guardians. Every time."

Some cheers and affirmations rose in the crowd. Xu touched Squall's shoulder. "Come on, let's go up there. We haven't got time."

"Right."

The five of them worked their way through the huddling bodies and rose up to the third floor. Squall for the second time viewed the ornate golden doors of Cid's office, yet this time he forcefully pried them open and was shocked to find the bespectacled man sitting comfortably at his desk with a smile on his face.

"Squall, my boy! You are an excellent SeeD if I do say so myself." Despite all the hell Squall had been through, Headmaster Cid still had a disarming smile to him, and the gunblader almost forgot the report with which he had to give.

"Sir!" Squall barked, forming a crisp salute. "I have come to report that there is--"

"--Galbadian missiles?"

"Y-Yes."

"Before the intercom died, several students phoned in the news you've been spreading. This is unexpected of Edea, but I guess you can't always have what you want done, eh?"

"N-No, sir. We need to evacuate the students immediately while there's still a slim amount of time. There's a separate Parking lot right? Besides the one that's been demolished."

"Yes, but the intercom is down. Even with most of the student body crammed into this tower, it'll take a while for that to fully commence. Yet, Squall you should lead in the assistance of that and then evacuate yourself."

_What? Something's on your mind._ "Sir, I've also got another report. A grave one."

"Well, you can tell me later." Cid stood up sharply from his chair and slowly walked around the desk. He regarded Squall's unappreciative expression with high interest. "Is there a problem with that statement, Mr. Leonhart?"

_Yeah, you could be dead later. What can you possibly do? _ "Sir, what are you going to do?"

"Heh, I'm going to see this crisis through. This is my second home pretty much. Well, more like my first. I haven't been to my primary home in so, so long." His face grew slightly melancholy.

"No way!!" Rinoa shouted suddenly. "You can always rebuild this place! Come with us!"

"Absolutely!" Quistis agreed, along with Xu and Nida nodding their heads. "Sir, you cannot seriously stay here with those missiles coming!"

"Don't be so nihilistic," Cid chuckled. "There may still be a way to save Garden." He started walking away from them over to the desk, but his knee gave out and he fell sharply to the ground.

Squall started, but the Headmaster put up a hand and started chuckling again. Squall mused to himself, _Against missiles? Daft piece of shit._

Cid laughed louder and more audibly. "Oh my. Too old for adventures nowadays. Not like the Sorceress War two decades ago."

Squall took one step forward. "Sir, let me handle what it is you're planning."

Cid raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Squall blinked. _Why? You're too damn old, that's why. You would screw everything up. Plus, I can do more than just assist evacuation orders. Plus, again, this place is important to me, too. And this place is home. And your plan is intriguing me. Dammit, there's a million reasons why. Too many reasons. Who cares?_ "My feelings have nothing to do with this matter."

Nida snorted, and the three girls stared wide-eyed at him. Cid chuckled even louder, causing Squall to tense up a bit. The Headmaster gestured towards Quistis. "Heh, you're right. He does have a hard time expressing his feelings!"

Quistis chuckled as well, sparking some red to form in Squall's cheeks. _Dammit, why am I being judged?_ "Sir! Please tell us your plan!"

Cid gave a final short chuckle and made it to the desk. "Well, this place used to be a bomb shelter, if I can recall correctly. I think it sat atop something else, too. It was eventually remolded with a concrete foundation, and Garden was built atop it." He opened a drawer and pulled out a blue envelope. Unsealing it, he produced a keycard and chucked it to Squall. The tag on the end read _M.D._ "Use that key to open the lock on the elevator. Further down in the MD level of the Academy lies a control system, according to the Guardians of this facility. It was used when this place was a bomb shelter, so I've never seen it. I have no idea what it does. Here's what I'm betting on: the control system could have a usage of setting up a powerful shield to deflect the missiles. Check it out and see what you can do."

_Fucking farfetched, if you ask me. Still.... better than nothing, eh?_ He saluted, along with Quistis, Xu, and Nida. "Alright, sir. We'll find the control system, and we'll see if it's operable."

Cid returned the salute. "Who knows what you may run into down there. Best of luck to you all." He handed them each a couple vials of Hi-Potions, Antidotes, and Remedies and bade them good luck.

* * *

White clouds were a staple over the Westonian continent, particularly around the Dollet region and northern Deling. Yet, a supersonic boom pushed several of them backwards, and then the forty-man squad of missiles raced through each of them making pockmark holes through their mists.

The missiles had now approached the Central Ocean.

* * *

Angelo stayed behind after a final wave from Rinoa, and the five humans entered the elevator and proceeded downwards. Squall swiped the MD card through, and the elevator made a distinct clicking sound and went down a bit faster.

Suddenly, it stopped, and the lights blew out.

"Well, I'll be a monkey's ass!" Nida joked.

"Now, is that something to say in front of ladies?" Xu asked.

"Nah, but's that how it feels right now."

Squall clicked the buttons on the elevator panel, but nothing responded."Ooh, great," Rinoa whined, "now what?"

With all five of them in there, the space was very cramped. Yet, Squall noticed the floor panel was intricately made. He bent down as best he could with both Nida's ass and Quistis's front directly in his face. He hooked his fingers against the edge and pulled forward, revealing an emergency exit connecting to a rickety ladder. Several feet down, he could see a hole resembling a corridor to the MD level. The elevator was swaying from the movement.

"Alright, Squall!" Quistis cheered. "You found a way out."

"Hm," he muttered, drawing nervous looks among them. "Nobody's been here for a while. Maintenance is horrible." It was hot down here, so badly that he was already sweating. He wiped his brow. "Best be careful, you hear?"

They all nodded and followed his lead down the stairs. The rungs were a little slippery, but they all carefully descended. The air was muggy, and a sweet-sour smell of oil was omnipresent. The lighting was bad, too. Squall felt his foot touch the edge of the corridor wall, and he sashayed down into it. Quistis followed with Xu right behind. As Rinoa reached the corridor, the elevator gave way from its hold. Nida cursed loudly and rushed to descend the ladder. Rinoa fell to her side on the corridor floor, and Squall reached up and pulled Nida in as the elevator shot straight down. Part of the elevator's rigging sliced open Nida's back, and he let out a sharp cry. The damned elevator fell straight to the bottom and crashed and splintered on the floor. Part of it caught fire, and a small gas explosion ripped upwards. The squad drilled backwards and felt the intense heat shoot straight up the shaft. Sweat poured on all of them, and it was difficult to breathe.

Squall was the first to get up, and he stumbled over to a hatch blocking the way. It was heavy and laden in dirt and grime. He grounded his weight, breathed deeply once, and pulled with all his might. He failed the first attempt. Breathing twice this time to collect his composure, he pulled with all his might again. He failed the second attempt. He took his hands off the hatch and loosened them and then set them back. He heaved the hatch open, and it slammed against the wall creating a loud noise that deafened them.

"Well, that was a bitch," he joked, getting uneasy chuckles from them.

They hopped downwards, and Nida followed with a clumsy landing. Xu and Quistis applied some bandages and a Hi-Potion to him, and he eventually felt much better.

Squall plugged his nose, and they did the same. Oil wells were everywhere, and several pipes were busted open spilling fresh black gold everywhere. "It's a goddamn oil stratum this _bomb shelter_ is built on."

"My god, it stinks down here," Rinoa said through plugged nose.

"We can't stay here for too long," Xu noted, "the smell will consume us if we do."

"Then we'd best hurry," Squall ordered. "Watch out for surprises."

"Right as rain, Mr. Leader," Nida smiled, brandishing his double-bladed sword.

Quistis unhooked the Slaying Tail, Rinoa readied her crossbow, and Xu twirled around the magicka-laced mace. Squall sighed at the mention of _him_ being called "Leader" once again, and then he pulled out the Revolver and loaded the last two bullets in. Cocking the chamber, he advanced forward down the three-level stratum.

The path was a gradual sloping curve downward, yet the group came across a seemingly dead end. A large circular disc was in the center of the small room, and a door led somewhere in the southwest corner. They opened it, went through, and found a rusty valve littered in grime and soot.

"A mechanism to open the disc?" Xu asked.

"More than likely," Squall admitted. He walked towards it and touched it. It was coated in slime, so much that _he_ was appalled by it. Stiffening the nerves, he and Nida grabbed opposite sides and pulled counterclockwise. It would not budge at first. A slight grating noise was all they could do before their hands started bleeding from the effort. The girls healed their hands and then got behind them to offer support. Even with the effort of five people, the valve only moved a few inches. Squall, after breathing heavily, noticed some cable wires running through the valve's casing. He took one of Xu's thunder gems and lit the cables alive. The reaction was quick, and a thruster shot out and narrowly clipped his skull, which would have been a fatal blow. The group grabbed a hold of the valve and forced it open. An outside grating noise was heard, and they opened the valve to maximum capacity.

Covered in slime, the girls gagged a little while the boys shrugged it off and ran outside. The circular disc was gone, and only a ladder remained leading far down into an unseen abyss. They didn't waste time thinking about logic and reasoning. Time was of the essence!

The ladder rungs were even more slimier and slicker, and all of them lost their grip more than once. Sometimes, they fell on top of each other and only managed to hang on by a thread. The descent took about five minutes, but the scenery opened up greatly to a wide berth. Hundreds of oil rigs were littered everywhere in the expanse, and free-flowing blackness was the river bottom. A platform greeted the end of the ladder, and they descended carefully down the sloping plank structure. A large storage facility lay near the end, where a big drill pad lay suspended above the oil.

Strange noises fluttered around the vicinity, and each of them kept their weapons close. Squall figured the control panel was inside that storage facility, and he wasted no time in the pace towards it.

An oil slick shot out of the river and scalded his right leg, dropping him to the ground. Two giant beetle-like creatures with elephant snouts shot out of the black gold and landed sloppily in oil grease on the drill pad. The burn on Squall's leg was tremendous, and he could do nothing except scream in pain. The nasty oil beetles spurted more slicks at them, but Xu raised a Protect spell upon the group blocking the sluggish oil slicks from caving through. Rinoa forced Squall's mouth open and poured a Hi-Potion down his throat.

Nida sidestepped out of the shield and slashed hard with both blades, spinning around in several circles completely damaging one of the beetles. The other doubled back and fired a slick at the SeeD, who ducked it but slipped on the oily deck, almost slipping into the hot oil river. Quistis hooked the bladed whip into the severely wounded oil beetle and ripped open a major oily hole in the body, ending the creature's life.

Xu twirled the mace in a vicious circle with small fire lights brimming out of the spiked top and brought it down fiercely on the oil beetle's skull. The soft flesh caved from the fiery weight, and it gargled a nasty scream of death and melted in hot oily grease. Some of it caught Xu's feet, and she rushed to get out of the way.

The oil deck was loaded in grease, and they clumsily waded their way across it and to the door of the storage facility. Squall kicked the door opened only to be revealed with another infuriating ladder. Stretching his back and hearing the muscles crack and ache, he breathed once and led the way down.

* * *

The forty missiles made huge sweeping coattails behind them and increased their downward track as the island of Alcauld came into view. The people of Balamb Port looked up abruptly at the first sounds of the sonic boom. Some dropped their dinner. Some slapped their faces. Some crapped their pants.

Yet, all of them lay entranced as the sky became filled to the brim with yellow-tipped warheads.

* * *

They hopped off the ladder with their noses free of the oil smell. Loud whirring and humming was prevalent, and they walked slowly admist the heavy machinery dotting the new interior. A huge structure stood in the center--three large combines hooked to loads of electrical wires and capacitors lay in the center directly in front of them on their metal path. It looked ancient and unusable. A podium with three purple buttons, the colors fading on them, and three brown switches lay in front of it.

"Looks like this is it," Squall noted.

"What are we supposed to do?" Rinoa asked.

_How am I supposed to know?_ Squall cursed and mused. _The Headmaster doesn't even know!_ He saw the others go to examine the combine structure, but he just stood there looking at the damn thing. It was hideous and inoperable. Rusted beyond belief, what the fuck could this thing possibly do?

"What do we do?" Xu asked, a tremor in her voice. She was never the type to be thoroughly confused over something.

"Squall!" Quistis yelled. "What do we do?"

Squall involuntarily curled his hand into a fist and walked over to the podium. Three purple buttons. Three brown switches. He pushed one button and pulled one switch.

Nothing.

He scratched his chin.

He pushed another button and pulled another switch.

Nothing.

"Hey, man," Nida asked annoyingly. "Do you know what you're doing?"

Squall grunted. "I don't know, what else can I do?!?"

He hit the console hard, and a loud tremor sounded on the combine tower. Electrical sparks flourished, and slowly the machinery started to turn.

All five of them looked in shock, as the combine tower turned on.


	16. Drifting

**Author's Note:** What? You thought I'd given up on this story, hell no. We're at over 200,000 words now and at the meatiest part of the tale. In real life news for me, things have gotten quite busy so updates will probably be slower than I like to have. Anyway, sink your teeth into this one and enjoy mateys.

~~~ACJ

_Silence reigns supreme;_

_The School rebounds from violence,_

_Drifting slowly on_

The electricity flourished, and the combine tower turned.

Up the shaft of the ivory tower, hidden spigots thrust out of the side panels and lights hurried to catch them. The students inside studied the changes with fascination, as the whole of the tower shifted ever so slightly to make room for the massive hull that was sprouting up from the lowermost floor. Across the campus, the outermost walls shifted as well inward, pushing the bomb-struck buildings in a short distance to the center, and a pervasive feeling of a buffer penetrated the campus. Loud grating sounds emitted all over the circular disc.

Cid Kramer saw the giant yellow halo cresting the apex of the campus slowly spiral down to the base, uprooting the connectors, and levitating Balamb Garden several feet off the dirt.

At the same time, he felt sharp pressure coarse underneath his feet and saw bright lights encircling his office. He could hear something approaching fast, and he figured the best thing to do would be to crouch. Good thing he did. The floor heaved violently underneath him, shooting him up three meters into the vaulting glass ceiling, stopping short of the topmost glass panel. A panoramic view of Alcauld greeted him and his five new visitors. The massive hull now stuck in his quarters had seamlessly shifted and expanded the whole of the tower so greatly that it was unrecognizable.

He could see that they were as shocked as he was. He himself had no idea that the Garden had this capability.

Blue light flashed around the base of the academy, sparking a small duststorm across the earth. The golden halo started spinning rapidly in a circle, rotating the Garden around ninty degrees to the left. The outside structures reverted and morphed into a conch shell, and twin motors reared in the back end causing extra power to blast out the end.

Squall Leonhart leapt to his feet from his earlier fall when the hull sprang up from the MD level. His eyes widened to their fullest.

Forty missiles dotted the sky, yellow-tipped cones glistening in the sunset-bathed clouds.

"Great Eden!!" Quistis screamed, standing sharply. "They're coming!!"

Cid and Xu stayed in their fallen positions, while Rinoa and Nida stood near the glass window in shock.

The missiles soared at incredible speed, their smoketails noticeably melting various landmarks of Balamb Port like the clocktower and nooks of the pier itself. They dipped low, aimed at the halo base, and then up they soared in zigzag pattern. Time seemed to stop, as they lay suspended high in the air. Slightly they tilted gracing the reddening sky with a gentle touch. The rough whiplash of air from the sonic boom they had rode in on caught up to them and slammed them back to the ground. Forty direct hits on the Garden. Except, they passed the moving campus by without so much as scratching the surface. They exploded the earth behind the Garden, propelling the massive conch forward at a greater clip than the twin motors allowed it. Dust and firestorms blanketed the Balamb landscape and caked the glass panels in mud and soot. From the air, nothing could be seen of the island except a huge cone of blackness between the two great forests of Alcauld.

For a breathless minute. A gleam of light from the ebbing Sun caught the glass and crystal, and Balamb Garden emerged a dusty but beautiful spectacle travelling at high speed five or six feet above the earth, golden halo and blue light levitating beneath it.

"Holy shit!" Nida gasped, dropping his double-bladed weapon and looking ready to shit his pants.

"This rig moves?" Squall asked.

Headmaster Cid slowly got to his feet, picking up his dropped spectacles. "So this is the secret."

"Oh my gosh," Rinoa cooed, her hands covering her mouth, "oh, Squall. Let's go and check it out outside!"

Squall raised an eyebrow, but he saw Quistis looking equally intrigued. Xu was already heading down to check up on the students, and Nida just needed to sit down. Squall nodded his head and followed the two exuberant girls out.

The entire throng of students were on their feet, looking everywhere with panicked faces. Whispers and gasps erupted from open mouths, and the student's feet seemed glued to the floor. As the trio departed the elevator, one muscular cadet took the first sprint and started running like a chicken with its head cut off. Squall hurried to him and steadied his shoulders roughly, before walking past him. The murmurs continued as they snaked their way through the dishelved pattern of students to the far end of the tower. Squall opened the padlock on the door, and they felt the crisp breeze of air once again.

It was an hour or just a little over an hour before the Sun would set, yet the Balamb gulls were still chirping away.

They could feel the powerful whir of the motors churning the large conch Garden across the earth. Trees and plains moved effortlessly by, and they just had to take a closer look. The lookout deck was small but tidy, and they leaned against the covered railing to peer over the edge. That golden halo that hung previously above the ivory steeple now rotated around the bottom fixture, suspending the craft five or six feet above the earth. The gulls were playing down there, challenging each other to fly through the rapidly spinning blades without getting hurt.

With the Sun setting for the night, the glow of the earth was a peaceful orange-brown, and the glint from the sea down south was shimmering. Clouds of dust from the missile strikes were still prevalent in the east, and a blackened patch of earth mixed with bits of fire was churning away. Yet, the picture was perfect, and most importantly the Garden was safe.

Even if the rig was.... actually moving!

Rinoa inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Her raven hair flowed softly in the breeze, catching strands around her eyes. With a graceful hand, she lightly parted them away and happened to catch Squall's eye in the process. He, however, looked away and grunted, and she had to smile at that.

Squall turned to his left and grunted louder. The Garden was moving too fast westward. And there was only one thing westward.

The intercom buzzed loudly. "_Squall!_" It was the Headmaster. "_Hurry to the bridge immediately._"

"Shit," he cursed. The town of Balamb was edging closer. He hurried back inside, away from the peaceful view that made him want to just bask in its glory for several hours. The girls followed him through the throng again and back up the elevator. By the time they had reached a frantic Cid who was busy scoping out the control panel, the city was only a few hundred yards away.

A nervousness they had not seen in him welled up inside Cid, and he slammed a fist down on the panel. "The controls are not responding to me! Squall, can you do anything?"

Without thinking, Squall asked, "What can you do?"

"Nothing! I don't know how to work this thing!"

Squall clenched a fist, and the two girls looked at him funny.

Cid stole another glance out the window. "We're going to crash into Balamb!"

Rinoa bumped Squall's elbow. "We've got to do something!"

Quistis ran to one of the windows. "Yeah, fast!"

"Squall!" Rinoa yelled loudly.

"What? I don't know what to do," he responded.

"You got this rig started, didn't you?"

_Oh my god,_ he screamed in his head. "Goddammit," he shouted even as he ran to the panel and slammed down as many buttons as he could find. He could feel himself cackling in his mind like a madman as he pulled, hit, or prodded each and every last button on the machine until a loud and creaky sound occurred.

A movement accompanied the sound, and Cid lost his balance again. He made a happy little noise in his throat, though, and sputtered, "Hey, we're turning!"

Indeed. Several of the blades cut pieces of the outside wall of Balamb off, but the rig turned sharply to the left in a ninty-degree angle without entering the city. It prodded swiftly adjacent to the wall of Balamb, across the gravel entrance road, across some more green earth, and finally into the sea itself. A flurry of water coasted against the pier capsizing docked boats and damaging several boardwalks, but ultimately sparing collatoral damage altogether.

After much calamity, the rig settled peacefully into the water.... and floated.

It did not sink. It just continued on in a southernly direction. For their good appreciation, the south was wide open waters for a good weeklong trek. The day's harrowing was finally over.

"My goodness, Squall," Cid said softly, getting up back to his feet. "You did it."

"Heh. I don't know what I did, but it worked."

"I think the worst is behind us for now."

Rinoa and Quistis both gave a sigh of relief. For the first time, they realized how tired and smelly and dirty they felt. Long nights and days in the prison, the hot desert sands, and the harrowing gang wars in this very Garden had taken a devastating toll on them, and they slumped lazily down on the floor and curled their arms around their legs, resting their chin on their knees. Squall felt the same way, even more so since he went through grueling tortue. Yet, his stubborn pride eclipsed his pain, and he calmly stood by at the control panel forcing a stern look on his face. If he could only see himself in a mirror, he knew his stature would betray him.

There was so much damage that had been done to him, to his partners, and to his school. Where would they begin to fix it? How could they possibly fix it? Several of the buildings were devastated. Maybe a hundred people had died. For what? He knew without a doubt that they were lucky to have just that many casualties, for if the missiles had actually impacted them there would be virtually none left alive. But what about this faction nonsense? Maybe those cockroach vermin would have an answer... that is, if they stayed on the ground long enough to talk about it.

Yet, a more pressing matter lay at his thoughts. "Where are we headed?"

"Oh...." Cid sighed. "I guess we'll drift along for awhile, before we can finally figure out how to work these controls."

The girls looked at him, and Squall did too. That sounded like a fucking stupid plan!

Cid ignored their looks, though, and seemed to grow a tad bit embarrassed. He was ringing his hands together. "Well, we can finally relax.... but since my office is gone now where am I going to change?"

The trio paused for a few seconds and then let out a collective laugh that felt really good inside to let out. Cid joined in, and they laughed for a good long minute. Squall broke off quickly and then moved to exit the bridge.

It was time to get some rest.

* * *

As the Sun settled down for the night, and darkness blanketed them there on the water, the campus was shrouded. All the fighting had short-circuited the lightpoles. Thankfully, the fires were out, but the Quad and the Parking Lot were cleaved chunks. The Infirmary and the Cafeteria were intact only by a thread. The Training Center was a mess inside with all the plant creatures splayed and tattered within. The dinosaur's carcass was rotting out on the main deck, and it took thirty people to shove the bastard overboard. Everybody gave a loud cheer when a big splash occurred. The Library was the least bit damaged, and the majority of the students spent the night there. Half of the dormitories were wrecked, and the other half were deemed slightly hospitable. All in all, it was a wonder Balamb Garden was able to stay afloat.

There was no sign of this NORG character, but Xu and Nida had managed to corral twenty of the Guardians after the bulk of them flew away from the campus out onto the open sea. Grudgingly, the captives agreed to rearrange a couple of living spaces in the Library for the night, as well as grudgingly agreeing to remain within the academy for repairs in the next few days.

Squall personally oversaw the Guardian's makeshift arrangements, and they in turn gave him a wide berth. They were now croaking a foreign language that sounded distinctly Trabian to Squall's ears. They had reclothed themselves in the guady attire, but their mandibles were still visible flapping loosely in the breeze. Quistis joined him for a while before reuniting with Dr. Kadowaki in the Infirmary for some late night girl gossip. Rinoa stole some grub from the Cafeteria when no one was looking and then found a quiet spot in the Library next to some old romance fictions and curled herself up for a long sleep, Angelo resting beside her.

Squall had to admit... he was goddamn fucking tired.

He slowly uncrossed his arms and shifted from the standing position he had endured for nearly five hours as he had watched the unflappable Guardians dither back and forth in the Library. They were almost finished, but he was spent. Fatigue was drenched upon him, and it took all his worth to hobble across the campus and into his dorm room. It seemed a fool's errand. He really should've just fallen asleep in the Library, but that would be not just improbable but unthinkable. He needed his room, he hadn't been in it for over a month.

And yes, it was still the same.

A little damaged from the chaos, but still the same. His cushy single with the green and yellow blankets. He plopped himself on there without undressing and fell instantly to sleep.

Ah, a first time, too. For the first time, he was so exhausted that it was a straight shot deep sleep. No dreams or nighmares or anything. No Laguna sequences. No rainy days. No weird buildings. No nothing at all. Just blackness and sleep and silence. Much like everyday life.

He awoke fifteen hours later.

He didn't know if it was his biological clock or his bodily smell.

He fucking reeked.

Yet... he felt fan-fucking-tastic.

He pulled himself up and actually gave a genuine smile. Except no one was around to see it. He noticed the mirror on the wall and cocked his head to the side, puzzled. He felt great inside, but the outside looked like shit. He slowly took off his shirt and pants, kicked the shoes off, and basically went to nudeness. His skin was stained in dried blood, and the sudden rush of cool air on his body felt foreign and alien to him. Cuts and scrapes ran all over his body, and the tattoo of the griffin's head on his chest seemed splotchy from all the electrocution and tortue. He touched it and then thought about his necklace with the actual griffin head ring on it. It was lost, gone forever. How could that possibly be? He had paid good money to get it custom-made. It was a pride and joy to him so much that he had actually named it. A weird name _Griever_, but it fit just perfectly.

Now it was gone.

He sighed and heaved himself up. If Seifer had it, he would make him pay dearly for it. Squall hauled himself into the bathroom past the afternoon Sun. It was almost time for another evening again, but it was worth it. More than likely everyone was sleeping except the Guardians. They wouldn't leave so quickly now that their asses were on the line. He turned on the faucet and went inside. He knew the water was cold, but fuck it! He scrubbed and scrubbed; it was practically half an hour before he was done. He scrubbed his skin raw and made sure the goods down below were picture perfect as well. That tortue had damaged _every_thing before the Moombas had fixed him up to the best of their abilities.

As he stepped out of the shower clean as a daisy for once, he thought about those peculiar reddies and how they had... called him Laguna. What was up with that? They had called him that when they had taken a good look at his face. Could they read dreams or something? They seemed particularly excited about it.

That whole Laguna scenario really pissed him off, too. Why was it that _he_ was always that bumbling stooge? That guy could not even tie his own damn shoes. Squall could tie his own shoes, and he did after he found a clean set of boxers, a fresh pair of leather pants, and a clean white wifebeater. He was glad to be back in his signature look, and he thanked the stars that he had another leather jacket like his previous one. That original was probably a putrid slop by this point. He looked in the mirror and smiled as he applied the finishing touch: the dual red studded belt that would house the scabbard for his gunblade. He inspected the Revolver that lay next to his bed where he had dropped it the night before. It was the shittiest brand but worthwhile for a fight.

He took the blade carefully out of its hold and studied the craftwork. He wanted desperately to fix it up. The June issue of _Weapons Mon Monthly_ was fixing to come out, and the new model was in there: the Flame Sabre. A gunblade that spat out firebolts. (sic) How silly was that?

It worked, though. Years ago, when scientists and guildsmen were testing the creation out, they had filmed their test sites, and Squall had witnessed the production. It seemed the government had finally given the approval for it, and indeed it seemed a valuable commodity to obtain.

He thought about that some more and then sheathed the weapon and hooked it onto the belt. Cracking his back once, he walked out of his room and onto the main deck. He was surprised to find the majority of the Parking Lot intact. The Cafeteria was thoroughly supported, and the Training Center was good as new. Those Guardians were flying around furiously grafting blue and yellow magic onto the gaping tarnished holes of the campus infrastructure, stitching up all the loose ends and damaged structures to make it seem like nothing ever happened. Several more were busy cleaning up blood stains and fire damage on the campus commons. Still others were being chastised and helping out with counseling on some frightened junior classmen.

Squall saw Nida waving at him with Quistis and Xu behind him helping out some students fixing supports on the walkway. Squall walked over to him, and he leaned back against a lightpost. "These overseers actually have a great work ethic, man."

Squall scoffed. "They're nothing but piles of shit."

"That may be true, but they're scared shitless."

"Have any tried to escape?"

"One tried, but his colleagues actually fried him to death and then resumed working."

Squall chuckled. "Heh, that's kinda cool."

"We lost sixty-three students, cadets, junior classmen, and SeeDs. They lost thirty of their faculty. And about fifty monsters were killed. And, of course, the big T-Rexaur itself."

Squall scratched his chin. "A fucking mess, huh?"

"A big-time fucking mess."

"At least it's over."

"Not until I get something to eat, then it'll be over. Want some grub?"

"Sure, I've got nothing better to do. Haven't eaten anything substantial in about a month."

"Hey, I thought you were gonna say something about not remembering who I was already."

"Eh, don't really care about that. I'm just looking to get by."

Nida shook his head. "Always the same, huh?"

Squall shrugged his shoulders and led the way to the mended mess hall. Along the way, he caught Rinoa eyeing him by the Quad. Her shoes were off, a book was in her lap, and her feet were dangling in the pool stretching through the center of the facility. He wondered why that image of her stuck in his mind, and he had to pick up the pace to catch up to Nida. Thankfully, he thought, the guy didn't pick up on his dawdling.

The staff wasn't situated in just yet, and a trust system was being implemented on the students. Both men took a fair serving with them and parked themselves at a table situated away from the crowd. Squall realized just how hungry he really was. The porkchop in front of him looked like something Eden had made Himself, a rich meaty goodness the likes of which Squall had never seen before. Some potatoes and yams were on the side with some creamy gravy to be poured. Squall had an inkling for some cider, but cranberry juice sounded better at this point.

The telescreen had been fixed, and some cadets were fighting over whether a soap opera should be playing or a game show. The criss-crossing of channels happened to land on the Dollet Dukedom news channel, and some graphic pictures of Trabia were being shown. A charred crater filled the screen with tons of wispy smoke billowing into the breeze. The forests and mountainsides that made up the surrounding landscape looked chipped and bitter. The busty news anchor was chirping loudly over the microphone the bleak news of the reality. _"It has now been twenty-eight hours since the launching of the missiles that has laid havoc to this small but beautiful SeeD training center. The Westonian government, mainly on an open hand from the Galbadian capitol, has forged this disastrous policy that has ultimately claimed the lives of over five thousand people. About ninty percent of the students are dead, totalling out to a good six hundred. The nearby towns of Kalm, Dvost, and Senegard are flattened, and about fifteen thousand people are permanently displaced across the continent. _

_"As we all know, the entire eastern side is walled off, preventing access to the continent of Esthar. We have received word of ambivalent reactions from somewhere inside that landmass, but ultimately nothing has come out of it. Logical reasoning dictates that the government of Esthar chooses to remain ever more elusive even in the presence of absolute catastrophe. The displaced are now forced to enter Ithius, the medium-sized mining and port city where the zombie stalwarts and pirates dwell at. Already at this hour, clashes and squabbles are ringing out resulting in two deaths so far. _

_"Sorceress Edea has yet to comment on the displaced persons of Trabia, and the commander-in-chief of Deling City Rafeal Carroway has refused to grant relief money or even open up the port city of Delwitzer to grant amnesty to the Trabians._

_"In other news, the reports of the Balamb missile strikes have appeared to be under failed conditions. This news network has, however, lost all communications with the Garden of Balamb. The port city on Alcauld has made mention of the academy's structure floating off the ground and into the Central Ocean, which has caused many to wonder if the rig is actually drifting along the open seas. Galbadia and Deling have yet to comment on the latest updates. Most definitely, they will try to see if Galbadia Garden can perform the same capability as the Garden of Balamb._

_"In other news... Centran cross-country star Alfonso Spears ran a distance of twenty miles without stopping once...."_

Squall sighed, looking at his half-eaten porkchop swimming in gravy with disdain. Nida had finished his, and he looked at the sad piece of meat on Squall's plate and slowly raised his fork. He touched the chop lightly, but Squall smacked the fork away and started eating again.

Nida chuckled. "You think too much, man."

Squall grunted.

"C'mon man. When was the last time you had a breath of fresh air?"

"This morning when I took a shower to get all the grime off."

"Other than that."

"The air quality in Balamb is terrible."

"Pah, not up in the mountains."

"I don't trip acid, Nida."

"I don't either. Whatcha insinuating?"

"What about those pills you had in your room all those years ago?"

".....My roommate's?"

"A question to a question is never a good answer."

"You mean to tell me you've never done drugs."

"Drugs are shit. They don't do anything for you, except get you in trouble with the authorities."

"Obviously, you've never done them. You're too straight-laced for that."

Squall finished his porkchop and engulfed three yams in one bite. "Call it what you want. I'm not here to lose my mind willingly."

"See. That's the problem. You don't want to escape the grind of everyday life."

"Everyday life is there for a reason. It's for you to explore _every_day."

"Yeah, but it's all the same everyday."

"That keeps things intact. Surprises kill the moment."

"You don't like surprises?"

"I hate fucking surprises."

"Fuck that shit, man. That's a real buzz killer."

"Buzz this, Nida. Acid, coke, 'jauna. That shit is ridiculous and unnecessary."

"Whatever, Squall. Quistis does it. The green stuff that is. Did you know that?"

"I don't give a damn what she does. Go and smoke it with her."

"I'd smoke a couple of things with her. Or _in_ her, to be exact."

Squall pressed his temples and shook his head slowly.

"Squall, man, haven't you ever thought about that?"

"No. I haven't."

"Dude, she's--"

"Don't even say it. " He grabbed his plate and stood up from the table. Nida obeyed, shaking his head in the process before settling back on that pleasant thought.

Squall shuddered off that thought and tossed the crumbs on his plate away and headed out of the Cafeteria. He walked briskly through the mended corridor glad to hear the gulls cawing once again and smelling the sweet salty air. He didn't realize that his eyes roamed quickly to the spot on the Quad where she had been sitting. He noticed it was empty and that puzzled him. He shrugged quickly, though, and continued walking out onto the main deck.

Now the Infirmary and the Library were all patched up, and the roach suits were busy putting some finishing touches on the Dorms and applying more work on the Quad. Squall sighed contentedly, happy to be seeing the academy look the way it originally did-- albiet a little smaller and tighter now that the Garden had transformed into a conch-like shape and pushed all the outer walls inward on each other. Squall relaxed again and stretched some more. He looked to the Library and wondered if a copy of the June issue was in the Reserved section. He needed a breather or two for a while.

* * *

The Library wasn't entirely crowded at that hour, and only a few people were meddling around at the big round table. They seemed to be playing with a bunch of brightly-colored cards. Smoke wafted in frustrated waves from the charcoal blunts perched on their lips, as their opponents put down a good move. Squall wasn't the least bit interested, however, and he walked on past them.

The Reserved section was right behind them, but a hand caught his side, and Squall looked down to see an exuberant face and a waft of smoke hit his nose. "Squall, sir!" the lad shouted, "come join us for some Triple Triad."

"Triple what?"

"Triple Triad, you dope," scoffed a second cadet. He didn't take his eyes off his hand. "Only the best game in the world, you know."

"No, I don't." Squall shrugged the hand off and started walking.

"Now, wait, Squall," said the first.

"I'm awfully busy right now," Squall grunted surprising the standing cadet by whirling around on him. "I don't have time to play around."

"What, are you going to do some more research or something?"

A couple of snickers echoed from the other players.

"None of your business what I'm doing," Squall snapped, thoroughly displeased at this delay.

"Just one game. It is a lot of fun when you start it."

Their eyes were tormenting, and he really wasn't all that busy anyway. He gave an inward sigh. There really wasn't much to do on this floating rig at the moment, since the roaches were busy fixing up everything they had busted. He looked behind him at the bookshelves, and then at them and stared at each of them one at a time. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling and took a seat next to the exuberant boy.

"Yea, good job, mate. You're gonna love this, I guarantee it!"

"Cigar, senor gunblade man?" said a red-shirted junior classmen, holding the brown blunt in front of him.

Squall stared at him. "A little young are you?"

"Pah!" He jerked the blunt at him, and Squall reluctantly took it.

The lit end glowed vibrantly red, and the smoke was a great treat circling around in his lungs. He took it out and exhaled smoke out of both his nostrils. "What's this... Triple Triad thing?"

"Only the best game in the world, sir!" yelled the exuberant boy.

"You've already said that."

"It's like tic-tac-toe, but not really," piped up a long-haired kid.

"Like tic-tac-toe, but not really," Squall repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, don't mind Mason over here," the exuberant boy said, "he's an enigma to the core." He choked on a puff of smoke and steadied a hand on his gut. "Oh, where's my manners, Squall. It seems we know you, but you don't know us. Oh my!" More choking. "My illustrious name is Mackwell. Mackwell Blunt the Second. Mack for short, of course. Mackwell is far too haughty for this poor excuse of a school. Across from me in that red shirt is Stevie, he's a cigar afficioando and the person responsible for these wonderful little Estharian treats. You see, I don't know how we westerners are allowed to get these from that country, but I'm sure the drug dealers in Centra have some cards up their sleeves we don't know about.

"You already know Mason, the enigma. Yes, we know his hair length is not within regulations, but is anyone going to tell him differently? He's from Kelso you know. They don't play nicely down there." The boy called Mack fluttered his hand over to a couple of shy boys across from them. "Those two are Flynn and Thom. They're useless, but good at playing cards."

Squall sighed. "Well...Mack... what is this shit?"

"Shit? This is gold, Leonhart. Look, nine different squares on the table. You have a deck of cards. You are given five cards out of the deck, and then you place them one-at-a-time until all the squares are filled. A dice tells who goes first, and invariably one person of the two will not use one of their cards." He choked again on a puff.

"You're too young for smoking, Mack. You can't breathe in so deeply."

"Fiddlesticks, Squall. I'm Galbadian-born."

"That doesn't matter."

"Sure it does. Now, look." He showed Squall a card, a nice crisp cut with a purple back and a picture of a Bite Bug on the front. "This is a weak card, but that's to be expected on Level One. There are ten levels, although the tenth level of cards are extremely difficult to come by. You see these four numbers on the top left. That's the strength numbers. They indicate if the card is strong enough to take over another card."

"What?" Squall asked frustratingly blowing smoke out of his nose.

"The object of the game is to turn the advantage over to your side. See, it's a see-saw effect. Once all the nine squares are filled, the game ends and the total begins. Say, you got a four and I have a six I win. If that's reversed, you win. A five-five is a draw and no one wins."

"...Okay."

"There is a running tally, but you've got to keep it in your head, you know. The strength of the numbers will work against weaker numbers of other cards. It's on a north, east, south, and west scale in that order. See, this Bite Bug has a one, three, three, and five in that scale." He put the Bite Bug card in the top row, middle slot and watched as a yellow light shone beneath it. He pulled a couple cards until he found one that pleased the situation. "Ah, my. Here's a Geezard." The backing was also purple-- the symbol of Level One cards-- and the monster picture was an ugly pinkish-purple lizard with huge claws. "See, it has a one, four, five, and one in that scale. Watch this." He placed the Geezard underneath the Bite Bug and watched as a blue light formed under both cards and overturn the Geezard into a yellow glow. "The Geezard has been overtaken, and the points have shifted over to you in your favor. See, might makes right, as always. The object is to use strategy and these numbers to overtake the playing field and win the game."

Squall stared at the table and snuffed out his cigar, before lighting another one. "Okay, shoot. Let's go."

"There are more rules in Triad," Stevie chirped, "but you'll see them more if you play more."

Squall shrugged and said nothing.

"Can it, Steve. Draw some cards for us." Mack grinned, rubbing his hands together.

"Is it just gonna be you and Squall?"

"Yep, draw."

"Okay, okay." The red shirt drew five for Mack and five for Squall that ended up being a Grat, a Blobra, two Geezards, and a Blood Soul. The gunblader frowned for only the Grat seemed to be worthwhile. He had fucking four Level One cards. He could see from Mack's pile that the boy had three Level Threes and two Level Ones.

Both of them rolled the dice, and Squall was set to go first with the higher roll. He looked at the table and recalled the small set of rules that he had known. Yet, he did not know any strategic methods these boys were employing. Funny, though, he had a feeling that he should start in the middle. He put one of the Geezards in the center and watched it light up blue. Apparantly that was his color.

Mackwell laughed and dropped a Forbidden(Level Three) above the Geezard. At six, six, three, two on that scale, the southern three took over the northern one, and both cards ended up yellow. The score was six-four, Mackwell.

The Forbidden had a two for a western side, and Squall had to grin. He picked his second Geezard and placed it in the top left slot. The Geezard's eastern side was four, masking the Forbidden and changing it to blue. Now, the score flip-flopped six-four, Squall.

Mack made a sneer and looked at the table, then at his cards. He made even more of a sneer and a grunt and plunked down another Level Three card down below the first Geezard in the bottom row, middle. Unfortunately, the yellow was against a yellow, and it didn't do anything.

Squall cornered the mouse with another evasive maneuver and placed his Bloodsoul card to the west of the first Geezard. Of course, the two, one, six, one could not defeat the yellow Geezard, and the yellow stayed yellow. However, he could tell Mack was pissed at the southern six number. Apparantly, he didn't have a card to challenge that. Angrilly, he placed a Deathclaw card in the top right corner. Another useless move, since the Deathclaw's western side was a two with the Forbidden's eastern side being a six.

Squall rubbed his brow. "Are you being easy on me, or does this game just suck so much?"

"Dammit, Squall. This is how the game is played." He was seething.

"The score's in my favor, you know," the gunblader chuckled.

Mack sputtered. "There's a seven on that Deathclaw's south."

Squall nodded. "Yeah, but this Blobra has a five on its western side." He put it next to the yellow Geezard, and both cards shone blue on the table. The score was seven-three, Squall's favor.

Mackwell beat the table with his fist. "Dammit, Squall. You're just a newbie!"

Squall said nothing but only blew out smoke.

Mack gleamed but then looked depressed. "Damn, this doesn't help me too much." He placed a Level One Funguar card underneath the Blobra, transferring the colors to yellow with a north five overtaking the south one. Six-four, still in favor of Squall.

"Oh, well," Squall laughed, with a thin smile. He placed the last card, the Grat in the last square, although it did not change the playing field. The game was won. And he won it.

Mackwell beat the table and left it, muttering something unintelligible.

"Oh dearie," Stevie whined, "he's never lost to a newbie before."

"Dude," Squall said, getting up. "It's just a game."

Mason muttered something unintelligible.

"Oh yeah," Stevie said, seeming to understand him. "There's a tournament being held soon somewhere. They haven't set the locale yet. The Card Queen herself will be there, and some ultimate surprise will be given out to the best Triple Triad player there. You display an inepitude that far surpasses any of us here."

Squall stared at him for a minute. "....Right." He slowly walked away, trying to get that intriguing thought out of his mind. By the time he had gotten it out, he realized he was staring at the June issue of _Weapons Mon Monthly_. It was still itching at the back of his mind, and he shook his head a bit. He opened the magazine slowly and saw a foldout plop out. He scooped it up and gasped at the sight of the blueplans for the Flame Sabre. He gasped even more when he found out he had the fire liquid used to create the sword. Apparantly, it used the Revolver blade, and he had a couple steel pipes and bullet covers in his room. His eyes sparkled at the Flame design.

He curled it under his arm and left for his dorm. The Sun was setting again, and that damn card game had made him tired once more. Of course it seemed pretty easy to get the hang of, and that tournament. He shuddered-- that was getting too much mingling with the people.

He entered his room and shut the door. However, the extent of the magazine in his hand made him not lock the bolt on the door, which was a ritual for him to do. Unwarranted entrances angered him immensely, and once Zell and Seifer had left in those previous years when they all shared the same room, he would bolt the door shut until they came back. He hated surprises.

He set a rug on the floor and unsheathed the Revolver. Finally something better than this simple blade. Even something better than his previous Cutting Trigger. He unfastened the gun assembly and set about cleaning all the nooks and crannies with a light brush. Applying spit and polish, he got out all the soot he could before reassembling the parts and setting the clean metal to the side. He took a sautering kit and got the two steel pipes. For an hour, he burned the pipes down to the correct size the blueprints called for and then grafted them to the blade. Taking the bullet covers, he spent another hour burning them to the correct angles before grafting them to the hilt. These covers would create more rapid firepower to the flame rounds, for greater damage.

It was close to eight, so he flipped on the telescreen. A talk show was on, with some rich suit gabbing about the price fixing market of Deling City. Apparantly, food prices were soaring through the roof in all twelve districts causing a three percent increase in starvation in just the past month alone. Commander-in-chief Carroway had yet to comment.

He was able to juggle the images and sounds from the news reports along with injecting the fire liquid carefully onto the sword. Heat and steam were clouding the room, so he had to open a window. He had to chuckle at the amusing scene that resembled a meth lab in his dorm room. The transformation for his sword was now taking approximately three hours for the Revolver's color to change. He was persistent, though. This was amazing stuff to him.

Finally, at midnight, with a jingoistic band playing the national anthem of Galbadia the Flame Sabre was finished. A dark red glow emanated around his room, and he slowly swiped it around in big arcs, caught in a ephemeral trance at the fiery creation. Slowly, he sheathed the sword and let the room plunge back to the glare from the telescreen. For kicks, he greedily unsheathed and sheathed it five more times, taking in the glow with a sly grin. He placed it gently against the side of the wall and turned off the screen. Now only the full moon outside shone through the open window, along with the sounds of the ocean.

Now, he felt really tired again. He was surprised. Fifteen hours of previous sleep should have done him plenty. Yet, bigger things now clouded his mind. There was literally nothing to do around the Garden, and now only his thoughts were left to be toyed with. That was something that was both of comfort and of malice to him, though. His thoughts sometimes foiled him. As they did now.

He slowly undressed to just his pants, letting the moonlight bathe his naked chest. Seven years of pure training had chisled his upper body into a pleasing sight. He slowly trailed a finger down the chest to the abs and thought about all those years. For a second, he wondered if it was worth it. Was there anything more than pure battle training? Something other than mindless blather?

"There's not much to do now." He blinked. His voice seemed distant and foreign. Maybe that was just more fatigue settling in. He placed a hand on the window pane and looked out at the sea, slowly coasting by. For miles around them, there was nothing but open water bathed against the pale moonlight. He thought back to his utterance. There really wasn't much to do now. The monsters were all exterminated from the Training Center, so they had to import more species in which would take a while to coordinate.

His eyelids became heavy, so he slowly rolled his body around in an arc to lean his head against the pane, and he closed his eyes. He remembered he needed to give a report on the foreign policy situation as well as the failed assassination attempt. Cid needed to know all the details, even though he probably knew some of them already. Squall rolled the side of his head lazily against the pane, secretly loving the tingling sensation against the vein in his temple. "We're in the middle of nowhere, and nothing to show for it." Of course, he knew that was a lie. They had barely escaped a cataclysmic wipeout from a set of forty missiles.

Speaking of which....

"Selphie.... Zell.... Irvine."

Had they failed to stop it in time? Had the Galbadians eliminated them before they even entered the facility? Had they managed to get inside but got kill-- he shuddered. He felt a sudden disgust enter him at the mere thought of them being executed. A feeling, a connection that he had not felt strongly before. Except maybe at the torture room in the prison or when Rinoa was getting attacked by those lizards.

Rinoa.

What was he going to do with her now? If the missiles had almost struck, and half of his party was dead, what then? Continue with the assignment? How could he do that? He knew and they knew the consequences.

_Is that how I really feel now? Is that what I'm supposed to feel?_

He opened his eyes and slowly sat down on his bed. Thoughts now were whirring at full speed inside his head. He wondered who the hell this Sorceress really was, and why the whole world didn't turn on her and ram her straight into the ground. As far as he knew, she was the only one of her kind left on the earth. And she just murdered the President of Westonia clear in front of everyone, some five million people in the city itself. That was one thing, another was her decision to obliterate two of the Gardens with a barrage of missiles. Why? What was the reasoning?

And that goddamn Seifer. The.... Knight. Only in fairy tales were there such things as Knights. What fucking nonsense.

He was falling asleep.

"I'll... get even... with that bastard."

* * *

It was morning and he knew that, but that's not what woke him up. He knew someone else was inside his room. It was unfortunate that his weapon was on the other side of the room, but he kinda figured he knew who it was. And he had to suppress himself when he saw her face.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Rinoa said cheerfully. "My, you must've been through a lot this past month." Her mouth was teasingly pretty. He was quite aware of her checking out his build.

Squall got up and waited for her to get out of the way before he found his undershirt and put it on. "What are you doing in here?"

"Came to see you."

"Why?"

"We need to go."

"Go where?"

She put her hands behind her back and smiled sweetly up at the ceiling. "To give me a grand tour of the Garden, silly."

"A grand.... a what?"

She flipped her hair back proudly. "A grand tour of the Garden."

"Is this another one of your orders?"

"No. An order would be for you to polish my shoes. I just want you to show me around. Get me acquainted from doing something other than fighting all the time."

He stood to his feet slowly, rubbing his eyes of any sleepies. Turning to her slowly, his blue eyes met her green eyes and locked for a moment before he turned away. "Are you serious?"

She giggled. "Please?"

He wanted to open the door, but he figured that would only add to the problem. "Alright. Fine."

She clapped loudly to his annoyance and watched him don his jacket and grab his sword. She caught his arm and thrust a chain into his hand. "I've kept this for safekeeping. I hope you didn't mind."

He looked at her and then looked at his hand. Griever lay in the palm, its beautiful silver coating gleaming in the room's light. It was like a burden of pain was lifted off of him, and he slowly hooked it over his neck. The familiar weight of the pendant hung on his chest in its rightful place. He didn't know what to say, and he looked at her with the most puzzled look he could give. She seemed to be waiting for a response, but he couldn't give one so he left the room instead.

_A tour of the Garden?_ This girl was driving him up the wall. They walked side-by-side down the narrow hallway in silence that seemed a bit uncomfortable. For him, at least. She had a smile on her face and was loving the morning sun drench all over her. They reached the large circular disc, and he was suddenly reminded of his previous tour guide experience with Selphie. It seemed both of the girls were chirpy little succubi. He groaned a little too audibly at the thought of having to repeat himself all over again.

Her giggling brought him to a new level of irritation, and he whirled on her only to find her stifling her smiling lips with a creamy hand. Her eyes sparkled and betrayed her, though, and she just continued to look at him.

Nothing was said for a little while, and he had to admit (although he didn't like it) that it was kind of peaceful.

"This place is so nice and pretty," she said softly, her eyes slowly taking in all of the surroundings as if for the first time. "Is it bigger than Galbadia Garden?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? They're both roughly the same size."

"Nah," she said slyly, "I think this one's bigger."

"Eh."

They walked a little bit to their right over by the Cafeteria. He was scratching the back of his head irritably.

She ran in front of him and pointed at the crystalline building. "What's over here?"

"That's the Cafeteria."

She paused and then pointed behind them. "What about that?"

_What? We just came from there!_ "That's the Dorms."

"And that?"

"That's the parking lot," he said tersely.

She pursed her lips. "_That's the parking lot,_" she mocked. "Listen, Squallie, I appreciate you showing me around and all--"

"--_Squallie?_"

"Yeah, you look like a Squallie. Or would you prefer to be called Mr. S?"

".....No...I wouldn't."

"Well, then Mr. Squallie S. You're pretty dull on the theatrics here. Make this into a fun tour ride, okay. You've been here, what, six or seven years. Something like that?"

"Seven years, three months, fourteen days, and twenty-three hours."

".....And thirteen minutes, and seven seconds, and thirty-five milliseconds," she teased with her head cocked to the side.

He only stared at her.

She stared back.

He said nothing.

Finally she sighed and threw her hands around his arm and shook him vigorously. "Come on, mister, I'm not leaving anytime soon."

"...Yeah. I can see that."

"You've got nothing better to do today, right? What, are you gonna sit in your room all day and play with your sword?"

She suddenly giggled a little at the hidden meaning of that statement, which seemed to not register fully in Squall's mind. He only cocked an eyebrow and continued to remain stubborn.

She pouted. "Please?"

_Great Eden._ "Alright, I'll try.... to be a little more fun."

She fist-pumped the air and prodded his arm forward. "Where to first, Mr. S?"

That was a good question. _Now, how do I make this as quickly and painlessly as possible?_ He scanned quickly around the disc and figured they should go from west to east. "Let's go down there first," he said as he pointed to the Infirmary.

"Okay." Instead of him leading her, she took his arm and roughly hauled him over to the crystalline building.

Most of the corridors had shortened, including the one leading from the campus commons over to the main entrance. The Infirmary's annex was virtually gone and compressed right up to the entrance. Quistis was sitting on the steps with a waft of green hazy smoke billowing above her head. She wasn't quite aware of them walking up to her, for she seemed to be in somewhat of a daze.

Rinoa looked at Squall with a peculiar expression, and he had to admit that he thought that Nida was lying. Quistis looked up as soon as they were upon her and looked horrified at first, but then she softened as if she knew there wasn't a credible excuse. "It's exactly what it looks like."

"Tell me, is that medical or illegal?" Squall asked.

She shook her head slowly with a smile on her face and showed him the prescription tag on the bag. He sighed and led Rinoa into the Infirmary. The good doctor was smoking in there as well, and there was more of a thick green haziness all over the ceiling.

"Mornin' Squallie!" Kadowaki beamed, the pipe inches from her lips and her eyes thoroughly glazed over.

Squall looked at Rinoa. "That's my pet name for you," she told him. "Everybody else is copying it."

"Uh-huh."

"Squall, seriously though," Kadowaki said placing the pipe down and putting more substance into it. "You finally got a girlfriend?"

Squall looked at the doctor's happy face, ignoring Rinoa's inquiring look.

"Well, it's not everyday one sees you walking around with a girl," she clarified.

_Hmmmm....._ "Yes, she is doctor."

Kadowaki raised her eyebrows, and Rinoa gasped. "What? Are you serious, Squall? I'll take that as being serious, if you are."

"Sure, I'm serious."

"...Wha?"

"Seriously joking that is," he offered a sly grin that was a little unconvincing, and she only shook her head.

Kadowaki choked on a puff, but her eyes were sparkling. "Oh, you two are cute, you know that. I'm sure something serious will develop sooner or later."

Squall looked at her with a peculiar expression.

Kadowaki inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "Hey, Squall. Tell Headmaster Cid to come by here soon, okay. He works too hard all the time."

"...Right," Squall said and he led Rinoa out of the smoky Infirmary. _All those fumes cannot be good for the equipment_, he thought. Then again, he wasn't keen on the intricacies of hospital equipment by and large. Quistis was sleeping on the steps with the pipe in her lips, and they slowly walked by her so as not to wake her up.

They were on a trek north to the Quad when Rinoa sighed. "Seriously joking, huh?"

"I thought it was funny."

"I'm sure you did."

"Well, this is quite funny for me to be showing you around like this. You know how many stares I'm getting right now."

"That's only because they're jealous."

"Most of them are from girls around here."

"As I said, they're only jealous."

"Erm."

They stopped by the placard reading the entrance to the Quad. The billboard beneath read some of the upcoming events: _SGA meeting Thu; Chess Club Fri; Cafe Barista Sat; Need Volunteers for Garden Festival TBA_. "What's the Quad?" Rinoa asked.

"It's both an Arena and a concert hall. Sports events play here occasionally for those who play sports. But it's mostly a theatre department's place."

"Well, let's go down there and see."

"Can't. They're still repairing it. It was the most heavily damaged."

"Well, let's sit by the pool."

"How about we just continue walking."

She socked his arm. "Squallie?"

He didn't bother fighting and only meekly followed her down to a ledge by the sprawling pool. A familiar bark accompanied them, and they turned to see Angelo trotting over to them, his golden fur coat glistening in the breeze. Rinoa bent down and ruffled his neck before settling down on the ledge with him at her feet.

Squall paused at first, looked around at the passing people, and then slowly sat down next to her keeping a little distance between them. "Your dog fights pretty well in battle."

"He kicks ass, don't you Angelo?"

The dog barked approvingly and then rolled his head further against her calf.

"He doesn't seem to be afraid when the tension racks up."

"Rule No. One of _Pet Pals_. When the master's in trouble, never pause long enough to let the pain increase."

"....All...right."

She grunted. "I hate fighting, though. It's so scary and pointless."

"Pointless? I'll admit scary, sometimes. But pointless?"

"Yeah. You could die for nothing. Just like that." She snapped her fingers. "What is the point of it?"

"The point is to increase your ability to dodge death." He pointed to the farthest eastern building. "That's why we have a Training Center."

Rinoa looked at him sternly. "That's not what I meant."

"That's what I've lived for."

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"I've been with you for over a month, and that's long enough to tell. You're a brutal fighter and seemingly impervious to pain. I think that's cool and all, but what's the point of it all?"

Squall couldn't answer right away. It didn't really seem to have a logical answer. That was how it had always been. Every day. Every night. "It keeps the day intact," he replied lamely.

"Keeps the day.... what? Intact?"

"Yeah."

"The hell does that mean?"

"For a princess, you sometimes don't talk like one."

"What? You guys can curse and be crude all the time, and we girls have to remain prim and proper and prissy?"

"Well, you are a prissy girl."

She curled up her nose. "Well, you're a lout."

"A lout," he chuckled.

"Yes, a lout. And a damn mean one at that... sometimes."

"Are you referring to our conversation at Timber?"

"Yes. That was right rude of you, Squallie."

"I'm not Squallie. I'm Squall. That's my name."

"Well, you look like a Squallie to me."

Angelo barked at him before he could respond at that.

Both humans looked at each sternly at first, but then slowly broke off the gaze and ended up looking at the floor for a while.

Finally, Squall asked, "Continue?"

"Yes, Mr. S. Where to next?"

Both were slightly relieved to be up on their feet again. "To the Cafeteria," Squall said.

"Good food?"

"Nah, not really, but it's sustenance."

The Cafeteria was slightly crowded again, mostly from the arcade game some cadets were playing around with on one of the telescreens. It was a multiplayer game with some green-suited commando dude fighting purple aliens on a battlefield in a humvee. It was quite violent and gory, and the cadets playing it kept getting killed by a RPG.

Squall found an empty seat away from the fray and was glad to see that most of the people weren't watching them entering at the moment. "This is the Cafeteria, Rinoa. It's normally more crowded than this, but we're all trying to get our bearings straight for the moment. There's usually great competition for all the good menu items around here. Sometimes, some faux brawls will happen in that center ring over there in order to get some of the hotdogs."

Rinoa raised her eyebrow. "Hotdogs?"

"Yes. They're filled with some really good ingredients that I guess are different from what's normally put in there. You'll be lucky to see someone eat it if you arrive there too late. As soon as the place opens to about a half-hour in, there's always a huge line. It gets kinda intense."

"Oh." She paused and then laughed.

"...What's so funny?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You're always serious when you're explaining things. Hee, it's kinda odd."

"Odd? You're the one that wanted me to show you around."

"Yes, and I appreciate it so, so much. No need to get mad now, you know."

Squall just looked at her, and she giggled some more. He was noticing more and more people looking at them, so he decided to scuttle on by. They left the mess hall and walked back to the Dorms.

"Oh, let me guess what these are," she said exuberantly, causing him to give her a perplexed expression. "These are the Dormitories!"

"....Yes... they are."

"What's special about them?"

"It's... where.. you ... sleep in them."

"And?"

"...And where you expel all your waste of the day."

Rinoa stared and then slightly smiled. "Yeah, that's... what I was looking for."

Squall continued on, and she slowly shook her head before following.

"What's this!" she screamed in his ear.

"Dammit."

"Sorry. What's this?" she said in a whisper.

"This is the Parking Lot."

The two-story car garage was almost in one piece again, smaller now due to the compression but still the same parking garage.

"What's special about it?"

"It holds cars."

Rinoa looked at him again, irritation spreading into her green eyes. "And?"

"We take them out on missions. That's all that there is. It's a parking hold with a bunch of stupid cars. What do you expect?"

She gave a crooked smile and then shrugged her shoulders. "Good enough for me. Next! And no, we're not going to the Training Center."

"Why not?"

"I already know what that is, and I have no interest in seeing it. Gee, if you did have a girlfriend, I'd bet you'd take her there on a first date."

Squall looked away and then looked back. "Maybe."

"No maybes about it. You're like a sado-maschocist."

"Well, I don't like hurting myself."

"Well, you're not quite romantic either."

They walked past the golden archways that the Guardians had meticulously repaired to perfection and came across the last building of the disc.

"Ah, yes, the Library!" she yelled before Squall could say what it was. "_This_ is right up my alley."

"Good, so now you can leave me alone."

"No, no, no, no. You're coming inside too, mister. Show me around inside, and then maybe I'll get lost in a book somewhere along the line."

"Good plan, then," he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Very good plan," she chirped grabbing his hand, "come on Squallie." She hauled him inside, ignoring the funny looks the librarians were giving them. It didn't take long, though, for her eye to catch a brightly colored romance book on the top shelf, and she let go of Squall's hand and plucked it off the shelf. She plopped down on the floor, and Angelo curled up beside her as she hungrily turned the pages.

Squall sighed and walked to the back of the library where there was a coffeeshop. He needed some brew to jazz him up. The perky cashier handed him a straight black brew, and he sat in a chair and sipped it as best he could. Thankfully, this tour guide stuff was over, and he could now get back to... to... _Dammit, she was right,_ he thought, _I don't have anything to do now, do I?_ He placed the cup down on the table and leaned back in the chair. There was nothing to do.

A book fell down beside him, and he reached down and picked it up. He noticed some feet beside him, and he looked up.

The brunette in the white gown, turquoise shirt, and green shawl he had seen in both the Infirmary and the Training Center was standing right beside him.

He realized it was her book that had dropped, and he clumsily gave it to her.

"How are you doing, Squall?"

Her voice was angelic and yet quite familiar. He knew that voice from somewhere, as he had the previous two times, but where? He couldn't say anything at first.

She laughed and walked slowly over to a bookshelf, before turning back to him. "Well, I expected that response. If you can, do try to remember the past."

"Do... what?"

"It would be wonderful to talk about old times again." She gave him a big smile and then walked back into the depths of the library.

Squall stared wide-eyed at the area where she had entered and disappeared. _Alright, who the fuck is she?_ He hated this. He wondered if he was losing his mind. He looked at the cup of coffee and wondered if someone had slipped something in it.

He got up quickly feeling a rush of blood enter his brain, and he stumbled over to the entrance and came face-to-face with a Guardian. The creature was robed again with the yellow ornate hat placed comfortably back on his head. His mandibles were still out, but he didn't seem at all concerned about that.

"Squall Leonhart?" he rasped.

"The fuck do you want?"

"You have been summoned, sir. It is quite urgent."

"By whom?"

"The Garden Master himself."

"NORG?"

"Please, sir, do not utter his name without his acceptance."

"That piece of shit can have my acceptance up his ass."

"Mr. Leonhart, it is quite urgent."

"Where to then?"

"In the Basement level, right below the First Floor. Use the elevator in the ivory tower. You have permission from Cid." Without hearing a reply, the Guardian scuttled out of the Library.

Squall noticed several people looking at him and wondered if he should bring Rinoa with him. However, he felt this was too big of an issue to drag her into, so he left the facility alone.

* * *

The air was chilly and desolate when the elevator's door opened to reveal exotic tapestries and ornate accoutrements decorating the walls and ceiling of the Basement level. The art had a significant northern continent feel to it, recalling some of the imagery of the ancient Trabian motifs. It was quiet inside, except for a low humming coming from somewhere in the center. When he listened closely, Squall could make out some tense voices somewhere close by. One of them sounded familiar.

He walked across the blue-plated flooring that had glowing turquoise crystals in each panel, and he realized just whom the familiar voice belonged to.

A solid punch was delivered to the chin of Cid Kramer, and the Headmaster fell back into the wall, a breath of shock released from his lips. The Guardian walked up to him to get him to leave.

"You greedy sonofabitch," Cid snorted. "Why did I even bother talking to you?"

The Guardian refused to answer, instead turning back from the direction he had just come from.

"SeeDs were brought up for the future, and that future is now!! Why can't you understand that?" He brought himself off the wall and heaved himself at the Guardian.

The Guardian grabbed his collar, before Cid could strike with his hand, and pushed him back into the wall. The robed cretin continued the walk back to the center of the room.

"Dammit." Cid punched the wall. "If I could only go back ten years or so. I'd tell you to shove this place up your ass! You all are nothing but money-grubbing bastards!!!" His strength left him, and he sank to his knees on the floor. He gave a collective sigh and looked on the verge of tears.

Squall just looked at the old man. Cid looked so pitiful, and Squall had the funny feeling of remorse strike at his heart a bit. Yet, his brain couldn't think of any way to speak words of solace, and he instead just stood there dumbly while the Headmaster started soaking at the corners.

His ears pricked up at the sound of the elevator, and he turned to see the doors open and Rinoa and Quistis walk out. A book was curled underneath Rinoa's arm, and Quistis looked a little groggy. "What's up, Squall?" Rinoa asked, rather loudly.

Cid snorted and vigorously wiped away at his eyes. Squall didn't respond and instead looked at the old man.

"Squall," Cid choked, "you heard everything?"

"Yes, I did."

"Heard what?" Rinoa asked, looking perturbed.

"Headmaster," Quistis said, worried. "Are you crying?"

"Oh..." he answered her with a slight sniffle, and he continued to run a finger over both of his eyes. "I am embarrassed. Sometimes, though, things just cannot be helped. An old man like me is not impervious to emotions, you know."

"What's going on here?"

"Oh.... let's just get out of here." He fiddled with his vest and slowly made his way to the elevator.

Squall watched him leave and almost forgot to remember his pertinent question. "Sir, I need to give you my report on the matters at hand."

The girls looked at him obtusely, but Cid did not turn around. "Please come to my office later, Squall. I am really tired right now." He escaped slowly into the elevator, and it shot him straight up to the first floor.

"You and your report," Quistis muttered with her arms folded across her chest.

"The shit has hit the fan," Squall muttered back, "and we need to decide what we're going to do n--"

"Squall Leonhart!"

The gunblader whirled around to find a Guardian with half of his real body protruding grotesquely out of the robes. A look of hatred was wrapped in his eyes. "It is time now."

"Time for what?" he replied bitterly.

The roach looked at the two girls first before explaining. "You all are part of the SeeD unit responsible for the Deling City affair last month?"

Squall saw Quistis and Rinoa exchange inquisitive glances with each other. "Yes, we are."

"Well, Master NORG wishes to see your acquaintance." Another Guardian was watching them. "Come, right this way."

The roaches led them further to the center to a large pod consisting of a large capsule flanked by two smaller ones. Flashing yellow, blue, and red lights streamlined the entire edges of the pod. A loud rumbling and vicious-sounding noises echoed from within the large capsule, and the three humans kept looking at it nervously. Seven Guardians were milling about near the base of the pod, their robes practically falling off of them.

"Come on, now. Don't dawdle!" croaked a palmetto as its raspy wings fluttered around the top of the pod. "When Master NORG summons you, you be there in three seconds. Got it?!?"

"Fushuru fushuru. THREE SECONDS ARE UP!!!!" Something inside the pod shrieked so loudly it caused the fearless-looking Guardians to huddle closer to each other. A couple of clicks occurred near the top, and the large capsule split down the middle revealing a most hideous creature inside. Steam billowed out like the effects of a sauna, and a rotten smell of spoiled milk enveloped the basement floor. The creature was a fat, incestous yellow mold of flesh, wearing a heavy cardigan sweater that produced most of the foul smell. It had three chins, the largest resembling something that looked phallic-shaped. Its ears were two large lobes that hung down past his neck. Squall was using masculine terms to describe him, for the creature's voice sounded masculine at least. NORG's eyes were very small, and it was impossible to distinguish the pupils. The despicable pile of shit seemed irritated beyond belief, too, and it continuously growled with ever more ferocity.

Squall looked at the vile thing, and the girls did too-- albiet a little more frightened than he felt at the moment. This thing was the proprietor of Garden, as all Garden Masters were. The Headmaster was just a figurehead and someone to lead when the GM could not at the moment. He looked like a Shumi, one of those impeccable closeted creatures that inhabited the northwestern half of Trabia. A sheepish race to be sure. _How did he end up here?_ It was quite a shock to have a Shumi as the main authority of Balamb Garden. Yet, no one knew anything about it. Save for Cid and the Guardians, of course.

"Fushuru fushuru. GIVE THE REPORT ON THE SORCERESS, MAGGOT!!!"

Suddenly all eyes were on him. Squall found all the roaches, still huddling against each other, were locked onto his frame. Rinoa slowly turned towards him, dropping her book in the process. Quistis, wishing she had some more drugs, turned to stare at him, too. And... of course NORG as well, who was busy tapping his six-fingered hand loudly on the pod armrest.

_Goddammit._ Even the enemies were wanting him to lead the charge.

_Where do I start?_

He looked around him again, and then he realized it was going to be a sad report. "...We... failed to assassinate Sorceress Edea."

"Fushuru fushuru."

"Er.. Confirmation of Headmaster Cid's order was made official at Galbadia Garden. The party was made final with the addition of sharpshooter Irvine Kinneas, and we all set out to commence Opeation Sepulcher and then to the Witchhunt itself. The 'Sorceress Assassination' was then carried out on per Balamb and Galbadia's orders."

"GAH, Bujuru!!! BALAMB AND GALBADIA'S ORDERS!!!" NORG hit the pod with both clenched fists so hard, parts of the capsule fell off to the floor. "YOU WERE FOOLED!!!"

Squall, Rinoa, and Quistis looked at each other horrified. "I..." Squall began. "I do not understand."

NORG picked up a piece of something metal and flung it at the Guardians bashing one of the roach's brains out. "Fushuru fushuru, EXPLAIN TO THEM."

The six left standing fanned out, revealing one particularly scared roach who hesitated before taking a deep breath and addressing Squall. "Leonhart, Master NORG has known about the alliance between Westonian president Vinzer Michel Deling and the Sorceress Edea for some time now. Before his murder, Deling was a healthy patron of Master NORG's consultations. Garden Master Martine of Galbadia Garden has made some of the arrangements himself."

"Garden Master Martine," Squall repeated.

"Fushuru," NORG muttered. "WORTHLESS SUBORDINATE."

"Yes," the Guardian continued, "Edea and G-Garden are very close in connections. Yet, it is her mission to get into contact with all Gardens. Even the destroyed Trabia Garden. Unfortunately, that does not gel right with Master NORG. Indeed, we as well think it to be a little odd. NORG has sent out a message to Galbadia personally to kill the Sorceress."

"Bujurur!! THAT SLEAZEBALL MARTINE USED YOU FUCKS AS THE ASSASSINS!!! HE GAVE THAT ORDER TO PLACE ALL THE BLAME ON ME!!!!" He gave a massive sputtering and huge drops of spittle blanketed the podface in front of him. "THAT MOTHERFUCKER!!!"

Squall, Rinoa, and Quistis remained rooted to their places. Squall scratched his head. "So... are you saying Balamb Garden had nothing to with that order?"

The roaches squeaked a bit before the lead one explained. "You just happened to show up at the moment the mission was to be carried out. They... well, they used you. The operation... failed, though, and--"

"Fushururu..."

"The sorceress is still alive, and she has retaliated just as we suspected. No doubt it was her who ordered the missile strikes on both Gardens. In all hindsight, something had to be done to appease the Sorceress's anger..."

"...Wait a second," Squall snapped, sensing the true meaning of the statement.

The Guardian edged on heedlessly. "In order to do so, we had to hand you over to the proper authorities to imprison you in the worst of all possible scenarios in the worst of all possible places. All for Balamb's sincerity. No doubt the Sorceress would have attacked sooner had not we done what we did."

"Bullshit," Squall said bitterly.

"Bujuru, OFFER THE SEEDS HEADS ON A SILVER PLATTER AND PRETEND WE OBEY THE SORCERESS!!!"

"What?!?" Squall yelled. The girls looked at him, astonished, but he continued, "This is major fucking bullshit! What of all the training that we do everyday! What good is in it?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY? 'WHAT GOOD IS IT'? YOU LOST TO HER, QUIT YOUR FUCKING WHINING!!"

"Don't you tell me to quit my spiel, you rotten sonofabitch! You're not doing a damn thing about it, sitting in that pod of yours up there!!"

Rinoa and Quistis looked at him, scared but happy at the same time.

"BUJURU!!!"

Over at the side, the roaches were huddling closer, but NORG picked up on their words. One of them was saying, "Hey, Cid was saying the same thing just a little while ago."

His buddy hit him upside the head and pointed at the Garden Master's visible ire. NORG threw another piece of metal at the betraying cockroach and split the bastard's head in two. The remaining five Guardians took off for the exit and left the humans there with the slimeball.

"CID....." NORG hissed, a nasty guttural sound emitting from his jowls. "THAT IDIOT DISPATCHED SEED TO RID THE EARTH OF THE SORCERESS. AND IF YOU FAIL? THE GARDEN IS DONE FOR. HE KNEW THAT. HE SURE DID." He slammed hard again on the pod. "MY GARDEN!!! DONE FOR!! THAT ESTRANGED MOTHERFUCKER!! DOES HE NOT KNOW IT WAS I WHO SOUGHT THE MONEY IN THE FIRST PLACE TO BUILD THIS RIG UP?" He sputtered again. "AFTER ALL THIS MESS, I OFFERED UP HIS HEAD AS WELL AS YOU SEED. THE STUDENTS WHO SIDED WITH ME IN THAT GANG WAR FAILED AS WELL. Bujururu Bujuru. THIS IS MY GARDEN!!!!!!"

"Bullshit. It's all of our's Garden," Squall declared.

"OH SURE. YOU ALL'S. CID'S AND EDEA'S, RIGHT? THAT PATHETIC MARRIED COUPLE'S?!?"

The three humans looked at each other, and now Squall was both shocked and nervous. Cid and Edea were married? The Sorceress was the Headmaster's wife?!!!

A sniffle sounded up above them, and they turned to see the fat slime actually crying. Thick tears of wetness slicked down the phallic chin and hung in a sick dribble at the end. "AH... I SEE NOW. CID AND EDEA ARE TRYING TO TAKE THIS GARDEN AWAY FROM ME." He then shot upright, ignoring his falling tears. He looked at each of them and suddenly seemed very scared. "OH MY FUCKING GOD!! YOU'RE ONE OF CID'S FOLLOWERS, AREN'T YOU?"

All three of them drew their weapons out, and Squall quickly loaded in a full chamber, cocking it sharply and loudly.

"PREPARE TO DIE!!" He closed his capsule up tightly and from inside fired three rounds of liquid bullets at the trio. The rounds splashed against them, before they could dodge them, and propelled them into the wall. The force of the bullets was weak, but the impact against the wall knocked the breath out of them and forced them to the floor. NORG changed the color of the lights and prepared a stronger attack.

Squall wiped his face from the slimy grime. "It's water!" he yelled, "and a damn slimy stuff at that."

"He's got Leviathan on him," Quistis called. "I recognize that slimy smell anywhere."

"Leviathan?" Squall asked. He thought that sounded familiar.

"Bujuru Bujuru, UNLEASH THE POWER OF THE ALMIGHTY GOD!" A sparkling light flashed at the top, and the distinguishable red and blue-striped python snaked its body slowly around the pod, its despicable green tongue slithering out lazily in its mouth.

Squall recognized it immediately. His nine-year old nightmare was back for a second round, and it came for him first. It raised itself up high and pounced down, but Squall was stronger at seventeen years of age, and the gunblade was a better shield than a flimsy oar. The serpent Leviathan rocked backwards with a deep gash in its snout as it slammed its face square in the Flame Sabre's girth. Rinoa and Quistis continued the drive with several more hits with their weapons, before the serpent doubled back behind the pod and then reappeared on the other side unleashing a water ball straight at them.

The ball of water energy thrust Rinoa back into the wall, but Squall retaliated with a fire shell straight into Leviathan's maw splitting its head wide open in a fiery gash. Headless, the GF continued to move forward but at a slower clip. Quistis plunged her whip in the serpent's neck and brought it down, with Squall applying a couple more fire shells incinerating the blue and red flesh. Leviathan erupted from the ground in a billowing fiery arc and smashed into the large capsule, tearing apart the hull and revealing the foul Shumi cowering inside his den.

"DAMN YOU, VILE SEEDS!! Why don't you just leave me alone?!!" He croaked the last words out and lost his voice.

Disgusted, Squall readied a shot and fired a flame round straight into the phallic chin that exploded out the back of NORG's head.

The vile Shumi splattered against the back of his capsule and fell down off his chair, gargling on his last breath of air.

Rinoa huffed in surprise, and Quistis gave one look of disgust at the dead Garden Master before turning and admiring Squall Leonhart's stern stance.

"Dammit," he cursed, "this is a bunch of shit."

"What exactly has happened here?" Quistis asked.

The gunblader shook his head violently. "Forget about it for now."

"What?" Rinoa asked. "Did you not see what just happened? This is really serious."

He glared at her so harshly that it forced her quiet for once. "What's the use talking about it?! You don't know what's going on, either." He whirled around, took a step forward to nowhere in particular, and then was suddenly struck by how horrible he felt. He felt fine before, but now a new and heavier burden was thrust upon his shoulders. "God! I don't even know what's going on anymore. I..." _I can't admit this!_ "I feel helpless. I feel.... manipulated somehow."

Quistis looked at Rinoa. She felt the same way, but what could she say? The raven-haired girl picked up the signal easily, for she felt very horribly for Squall's case. Her eyes glowed more green as she slowly walked up to him and pawed at his back. "Squall...." she cooed softly. "It'll be alright. This is something we can work out. Maybe Cid will kn--"

"Cid," he said, his blue eyes alighting. "Yeah... I'm going to see the Headmaster." He walked away from her touch and did not stop in his gait.


	17. Jewel of the Sea

_Realizations_

_Confounded as they may be_

_Reveal the way_

The Garden Master was a Shumi. A nasty, bloated scuzzball of a creature.

Squall opened the heavy ornate doors of Headmaster Cid's office, and he could not get that image out of his head. The creature was dead now. A flame shell now scorched that hideous phallic chin, with the back of the skull leaking pus and melt everywhere. It was a sickening sight, to be sure.

The room was empty.

Quistis and Rinoa hurried up to catch him, for he had been running and his mind had blocked out all outside stimuli. They had been trying to talk to him, but there was a volatile swaying of motions plaguing him now, like a ship battering through a particularly savage hurricane. Both of them put a hand on his shoulders, and he jumped.

Cid was not in his office, and it was too noisome in there to concentrate, so Squall immediately about-faced and stormed out leaving them to follow him breathlessly behind.

They wanted to speak on the elevator, but they couldn't think of any words. Squall had a thousand-yard stare masked on his face, and he kept clenching and unclenching his hands. Another thought was clawing him to death: Cid and Edea, married? Cid was wedded to a Sorceress? How so?

The elevator dinged, the doors flew open, and he was gone.

"Now hold just a damn minute here!" Quistis yelled.

Squall abruptly stopped and whirled on her.

"Y-You don't know where you're going," she continued reluctantly.

Squall opened his mouth to say something but then recognized the clarity of that statement. He shut it and looked at the floor.

A lightbulb clicked in Rinoa's head. "Maybe... he's at the Infirmary?"

"The Infirmary?" Quistis asked. "He's not hurt."

Squall's lightbulb clicked, too. "The doctor said he needed to see her again for something. Maybe he is there." He didn't take long to heed that thought, for he was up and away.

Quistis rubbed her face hard and followed his relentless march with Rinoa in tow.

Into the Infirmary he barged. The good doctor was once again hot on the pipe. This time her eyes were really gone. "Oh, Squallie, you here again?"

"Squallie, heh," Quistis laughed, with Rinoa stifling a giggle.

Squall didn't seem to hear. "Is the Headmaster here?"

Kadowaki took a minute, resting the pipe gently against her head. "Oh... yeah he is. But... uh... you see... he's kind of --"

"Oh, I'm okay now, doctor," a voice from the farthest patient room called.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I believe I'm done crying... for now."

_Oh god,_ Squall thought. He brushed past the high doctor and walked into the room. He was overcome with the stark image of a red-eyed, stuffy-nosed Headmaster sitting in a ruffled lump on the cot with a bunch of tissues surrounding him. "Sir." He saluted him, and Cid returned with a half-hearted gesture.

"Heh," the old man shifted. "You all saw me in such an embarrassing state. I just couldn't handle it in my office."

Squall didn't know what to say to that.

Cid coughed in his hand. "Erm... uh.. what should we talk about now?"

"Well... Master NORG first of all. Who the hell was that?"

"Ooh.. NORG. Yes, that was a Shumi. From the Nagansaki tribe to be exact, one of the four surviving tribes left on this planet. They hail from Westpautuckett Isle on the northwestern side of Trabia, and they are quite a secluded bunch. NORG is a lazy abbreviation for his full name, which.... if I remember correctly.. is Nygthonica Oreg Rythinuchefda Gorina." He laughed slightly. "I don't know about you, but NORG sounds better to pronounce."

"Somewhat."

"Well, NORG was an outcast of his tribe so to speak."

"How?"

"He was too fat, and he had too many chins. But they only kept him around because of his business skills. He had somehow learned from some of the great Estharian accountants and had opened up trade routes between the Nagansaki tribe and the four main corporate conglomerates of Esthar. The Nagansaki tribe was the most lucrative tribe when I ventured up there some years ago. He was quickly enthralled with my business partners enough to purchase large amounts of funds for this Garden.

"The construction of Balamb Garden was in and of itself a lucrative adventure, and NORG was extremely intrigued with the news. I had the pleasure of dining in his estate, and he had the pleasure of attaining those valuable property rights to own this rig. Without his support, this construction would have been aborted.

"Here's the bad part, though. The maintenance of Garden, among other costs, was gouging on the books. We needed additional aid to at least come up green for one fiscal year. So, the program of SeeD was developed quite quickly. As a matter of fact, your group was only the third squadron to come in at the time. As more and more cadets have come in to graduate, and by my last count we've got some three thousand SeeDs all over the world, our revenue has slowly compensated for five straight years of losses.

"Well, that was all NORG's plan by the way. The idea of the SeeDs. He was right on the money, and money he did make. Right around the middle of your training, Squall, when you were about fifteen the Garden started losing its ideals. It changed rather radically, especially amongst the ranks of Guadians that patrolled the halls here. You see, the Guardians, as you've no doubt uncovered here, are cockroach soldiers and mages. They have nothing to do with the Shumi, but they are instead paid assassins of Ithius-- the town just south of the tribes. These roaches are only after money for the most part, and they don't really care about high ideals or morals or the like. Yet, NORG was a good manipulator of greedy people, and he was able to corral their services with his deep voice and commanding nature. The roaches took on the form of Guardians, leaving their slick exoskeletons to mold and meld beneath their cloaks.

"You see, in reality, they are harsh and brutal characters. Extremely agile and tenacious. Years and years of hiding their true selves have caused them to become feeble and weak, and thus they were quite easy to dispatch. If, though, you are ever in Ithius please be warned. Several of our SeeD units were dispatched to help out in humanitarian purposes, and none of them returned. NORG corralled them to the best of his advantage, but I am the one that lost control of the situation. My mistakes caused the Guardians to usurp more greed than they could muster, and horribly the gang war started."

"What mistakes?"

".... They all center around you pretty much, Squall. They felt my decisions regarding your status and your reputation were unfit and dangerous to the missions being asked or thust upon you."

"Pah!"

"Yeah, I know. Such are the ways. What else do you want to talk about?"

"Hm. If you don't mind, I wish to make a report."

"A report?"

"About the situation in foreign policy."

"No, no, no. That won't be necessary. I have watched the majority of the debacle on the telescreen. We can review if you want, but I can guess what must've happened in the first place."

"A review wouldn't kill it."

"Quite right, then let's review. Ah... I guess to sort of summarize it, you're pretty much a hardcore character, Squall."

"The mission was feebly constructed and feebly executed. Almost all of us landed in prison for it."

"Right. Both Galbadia and Deling are in a bind at the moment because of it, and the only thing that is keeping them together is the Sorceress's hold of Galbadia Garden, which by the way has become movable as well."

"They were able to unhook it, too?"

"Yes, with ease."

"Well, they didn't have missiles bearing down on them."

"Heh, right. My poor Trabia is laid to waste, too, because of those missiles."

"_You're_ Trabia?"

"Oh yeah. All three of the Gardens are the products of my past gone grand ideas. NORG personally funded this Garden of Balamb, because he liked the balmy weather so much. GM Talmond was the first leader of Galbadia Garden before he died of tuberculosis, allowing his vice admiral Martine Wallace to take over. Trabia's GM was a Shumi like NORG, another impossible name to pronounce so we'd always refer to him as Sa Nu."

"I... see."

"Yes, it was my idea.... and ...uh..."

Squall backed up against the door and leaned his head back against it. He could see the Headmaster's brow tightening as if a heavy pressure was forcing his head to explode. "I think I have an idea what you're trying to say."

"Oh. Really?"

"Really, and I am quite confused. Sorceress Edea, let me get this straight, is your--"

"--Wife, right?!?" yelled an excited Rinoa, who just couldn't contain herself sitting out in the lobby. Quistis was right behind her, looking equally intrigued.

Squall grunted annoyingly, but Cid didn't respond too quickly. When he did, his voice had changed in tone to a more hollow sound. "You all are quite right."

"Then, that can't be good," Rinoa continued.

Squall grunted again, and both girls looked at him, surprised.

"Good, bad," Cid replied," I wouldn't really put a value judgment on it. Edea had been a Sorceress ever since childhood, a trait she was never fully enthusiastic about but something she had grown to love with maturity. I married her, knowing that."

All three young adults looked at him with unapologetic stares. Here was the Headmaster freely admitting an unrequitted love for a denizen of the worst atrocities ever to plague the world's mankind. And he was fucking nostalgic!

He remained silent for a few minutes, scratching his chin and reminiscing about the exact first encounter between the two of them. "Back in those days, I was considerably younger, of course, and more fit. They called me her 'Knight', and I could never see why. I was nowhere close to that perfection of a title. She... She adored that a bit, I can imagine. We were happy, despite what others may have been thinking. We worked together on everything related to these Gardens, the SeeD units, and... and..." He looked at the three of them and pondered whether or not to say it. That particular statement would have been very devastating, and he just couldn't bring himself to say it. "Well, suffice it to say, we were very happy."

Quistis and Rinoa looked at each other and thought of something. Squall asked it for them. "Our enemy helped form this school?"

"In the very, very beginning, yes, it was her stated intention to build facilities to stop any and all further incursions by succubi. I found the idea wholly fascinating, and I became obsessed with it. Yet, over time, I soon realized what the goal of these Gardens really consisted of, and I was worried. One day, Edea would be in their line of sight. When.... when I told her about it, she only laughed and gave me that sweet maternal look she always she gave me and said it would never happen." He grunted with a shy smile on his face. "Well.... now is a ... different story."

Silence blanketed all four of them again, and for once the silence this time really affected Squall wholeheartedly. He became very uncomfortable. "Uh...well.. what do we do now?"

Cid thought a minute and then cleared his throat. "It's been three days now and not much of anything has happened, except for NORG's death and the Guardian's departure. We'll probably stop drifting soon." He laughed. "Hopefully, things'll get back to how they were before. Y'know, some degree of normalcy without the ornate suits running around."

Squall said nothing at first, but he slowly managed a slight smile. "Yeah, hopefully so."

A loud thud hit the Infirmary entrance door.

Kadowaki coughed on a puff of her drugs. "Oh my! That sounded like it hurt."

Squall slowly walked out of the patient room with the girls in tow, as the entrance door slowly slid open. Nida came in, slowly rubbing his shoulder. "Heh," he said awkwardly, "I thought it would just open by me running into it."

Squall raised an eyebrow.

"Is the Headmaster here by any chance?"

"I'm here," came Cid's voice, as the old man followed it out into the lobby slowly. "What is the problem?"

"There's a ship approaching on the starboard bow."

"The starboard bow?" Squall asked.

"Yeah, man. Since this rig is moving now, we got to talk in navy speak."

"Well, then, where _is_ the starboard bow?"

"Over on the side of the Training Center and the Parking Lot. You can get to it from the second floor observatory deck in the ivory tower."

"A ship?" Rinoa asked.

"Galbadians?" Quistis asked further.

"I don't know, it has white sails," Nida replied.

"White sails, huh?" Cid repeated, a bright sparkle coming into his eyes. "Squall, go check it out. I'll be right behind. I think I may know who it is."

"Got it." He looked at Quistis and Rinoa who looked itching to go. "Come on, let's check it out."

They followed him out and passed by many students who had seen the new arrival as well. They tried to ask them questions, but the three were walking too fast to answer. The Sun was dipping low in the sky, and from their position on the circular disc they could make out the beautiful reflections on the wavy sea. As they rounded the southern bend, through the gaps of the crystalline buildings they could see a large gray ship with bright white sails docked where Nida had said. From their position, it looked like no one was on the brig. Xu popped out of the ivory tower and clamored down to them.

"Is the Headmaster coming?" she asked, a little frightened.

"Yes, he's making his way over here," Squall replied.

"Good. Nobody's made an appearance on it, and by rule we cannot board their ship without the Headmaster's approval."

"He's designated us to check it out. Don't worry, he seemed to think he knew what it was."

"The Sorceress may be on that ship."

"It'll be alright, Xu." He moved past her pouting expression and made his way up the tower with Quistis and Rinoa in tow. They were getting quite impatient with his hurry-up-and-leave-them-behind attitude.

* * *

Squall pried open the observatory doors with a slam and shielded his eyes from the bright glare of the sails. His hand immediately went to the hilt of his gunblade, and he kept it there as he slowly walked across the deck. More and more of the ship came into view, and he secretly marvelled at the splendor of it. It was a large seventy-foot long ship gray as alabastor with the smoothest silk sails white as snow. The finest wood carved the deck in a golden brown, cleanly washed and free of bird shit. The name on the side read _White Squall_, and he had to smile a bit at seeing his name on the side of a thing. Indeed, no one was around on the hull.

Squall slowly unsheathed the Flame Sabre, and both girls reluctantly grasped their weapons as well. Squall noticed quickly that the back end of the ship had a bit of a fish-like look, as if the sails ended up sporting a chameleon look by donning swordfish fins. It was a strangely bizarre but mesmerizing detail.

A hatch opened up within the ship, and three sets of footsteps walked out of it. Around the corner, three white-clad people walked slowly towards them with stern faces. They walked out unarmed, and Squall felt uncomfortable holding his gunblade forcefully against the ground in an attack ready stance. He hesitated for a few seconds watching them, and then he slowly sheathed it. The girls took their hands off their weapons, too.

The white suit that had a hat donned with an officer insignia spoke first. "Is Headmaster Cid around?"

"No, he is not," Squall answered. "Is this a Galbadian ship?"

"While this ship was built under Edea Kramer's watch, it is not Galbadian. We are the White SeeDs, and we come in peace."

Quistis made a sound in her throat.

Squall churned that thought fast. "The White SeeDs?"

"May we come aboard? We come in peace!"

Squall looked at him for a moment and then stepped back to make them room. The three SeeDs bowed and then jumped on the railing of their ship and somersaulted above the observatory deck. They landed sharply and succinctly.

By instinct, Squall's hand shot to the hilt, and he had to forcefully suppress himself.

"Heh, you are a hard one to abide with, good sir."

Squall did not reply.

"We really do come in peace, and our presence is quite urgent."

Squall only nodded.

"We must speak with Headmaster Cid."

"I am right here," the old man said, walking slowly out the door with Xu and Nida on his heels. "Wow. I thought I'd never see you all again."

"Headmaster," the officer SeeD said, and his subordinates bowed to Cid, "we have come for Ellone. It is too dangerous for her here now."

_Ellone!!_

Squall's eyes blinked sharply. He wasn't aware of it, but Quistis's did too. That name. Squall's heart and mind ached. Only one other girl he knew of with that name: Laguna's little girl he babysitted. A sinking feeling then collapsed onto him. Boy, was his life just fucked up with so many details.

At the mention of her name, Headmaster Cid seemed to suck in a sharp breath. His eyes told everyone that something serious was brewing. "Yes. I was afraid this would happen." Then, as was becoming a frightfully normal trick in the old man, Cid turned immediately to Squall and said, "Squall. You know who she is, right?"

_Yes, I do._ He blinked at his own thoughts. What? He knew who she was? No, he didn't. "Uh...no I don't, sir."

"Yes, you do, now go and find her and bring her here. Matter of fact, we'll all go and find her, but I think you know exactly where she is."

_Ellone. Laguna. Cid. White SeeD. How the hell are these people connected?_

"Squall?"

This madness was killing him. He only snapped to attention and crisply saluted. "Yes, sir." He gave the three white SeeDs a look and walked back into the Garden. He was walking swiftly, already churning a destination in his mind-- which really creeped him out, but he was unable to decipher the true meaning of that-- before he heard Quistis's voice.

"Squall, dammit, stop for a second."

They stopped on the bridge towards the elevator.

"Squall," she asked, "is that the same little girl from our dreams."

"I am going to assume so."

"My goodness. Do you know where she is?"

_Probably._ "Not the faintest idea."

She sighed. "Let's split up and see if we can track her down." She left before he could respond and went down the elevator first.

Squall caught Rinoa's perturbed expression. She seemed a little huffy. "Squall, who's Ellone?"

He shrugged. "She's a person from the dream world."

She gave him one of those signature quirky looks that told him _I aint buying that shit_, and she left him standing there looking all perplexed.

* * *

In truth, he absolutely did not know what this little girl now looked like. He only knew she was a brunette and she wore green shirts in the dream world. Being only four years old, her voice was nasally and squeaky-- a typical child's voice. She must be almost two decades older now, a young adult woman. So, now what? He hadn't the slightest clue.

But did he?

Then, why was he walking straight into the Library?

Why was he walking all the way back to the cafe area?

Was it....

Nah, couldn't be.

Or could it?

The brunette with the turquoise shirt, white pants, and green shawl was sitting reading a book on the leather sofa. And he knew it was her.

He stopped short of entering the cafe area, and he was so thankful that she was the only person around. He knew this was the little Ellone, all grown up and quite good-looking despite all the years. Regardless of the three previous short meetings with her, he knew without a doubt that this was Ellone.

He took one step and bumped into the bookshelf.

She looked up and gave a sweet smile and a little laugh. "Squall... you are always bumbling into things."

Her smile and laugh were disarming to him, and he almost forgot what to say. "A-Are you, El-Ellone?"

She looked at him long and hard, her eyes sparkling radiantly. She placed her book on the ground and laid her hands in her lap. His realization finally caught some peace in her heart, and she gave a collective sigh of relief. "Yes, I am, Squall."

_Yes, I am, Squall._

He could not believe it. He could not believe himself. He forced himself to look away from her, and he walked slowly around the line of chairs away from her and then in front of them and back towards her. She was so disarming that he couldn't parse any words straight. He knew he would end up stammering for the entire conversation. "Y-You're Ellone. T-Th-_The_ Ellone?!?"

She giggled sweetly, and she looked at him harder on purpose.

He knew if he continued to stand, he would fall over. He felt around for the arm of a chair and sat down hard in the seat. "You kn-know Laguna then?"

Briefly the disarming stare gazed away to distant memories of good times. "Oh, yes. Uncle Laguna. A great, great man."

Like a volcano bursting, the words were out of him before he could control the tone of his voice. "Tell me then!! What is this I am experiencing!"

Her smile changed to solemn understanding. She knew it'd be difficult. "Your dreams, right? It is hard to explain."

He made a noise in his throat, presumably a retort that died in there.

She gazed far away and then came back. "One... thing. Everything you see... all of that is the past."

"The p-past." _We're viewing the past._

"People say you cannot change the past. That has always scared me. So many things that have happened, and you cannot change them. But... even still. If there is a possibility, it's worth a try, right?"

Squall looked at her like a brick had just been smacked in his face. _Change the past! What the hell? That's not what I want to hear right now._ "I need to know. You're here and there as well. Are... A-Are you responsible?"

She held his gaze only briefly, before standing up and slowly walking over to a bookshelf.

He watched her every movement and felt incredibly sick. "Are you the one taking us to the dream world!"

She placed a creamy hand on the shelf to steady herself. No words came to save her, but she tried as best she could. "I... I am sorry, Squall."

_Damn._ He inadvertently hit the armchair with his fist. _Damn! So much I don't know. So much that fucks me up._ "Why! Why me?!?"

She turned and looked at him.

"I have enough problems as it!!" Squall yelled. He knew the corners of his eyes were welling up, but he made no effort. "I don't... need this."

Ellone looked at the floor and wringed her hands. "I am sorry, Squall."

Squall got up and stumbled backwards, but he managed to keep standing. He backed into another chair and slowly sat down. "Don't..." his voice was weak, "don't count on m-me." His head became heavy, and he held it in his hands like a bag of bricks.

Ellone saw his anguish and felt her heart torn once again in two. She didn't hear the footsteps until they were right beside her. The sight of the three white SeeDs caused her heart to flutter momentarily before Squall's stance brought her back to reality again. She didn't hear the officer SeeD ask her about Squall nor the inquiry from Xu or Nida. She instead walked over to Squall and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Squall," she whispered in his ear.

He looked at her through slightly wet eyes and met her strong green eyes. It was only a second, but it was a bond. A strong bond the likes of which he had known all those years ago. Was she? He thought it was so familiar.

"Squall," she whispered again with once more that disarming smile of hers. "You are my only hope."

They stared at each other a few more seconds, and then he watched her leave him and follow the white SeeDs out of the Library.

_Hope_.

It was a long time before he finally stood up, and when he exited the Library, he heard the sounds of the _White Squall_ blare, and he saw the swordfish sails flap out beautifully against the setting Sun, a truly beautiful sight. He was so glad no one was around to see him cry.

But.. he knew he wasn't safe there. So he ran to his Dorm and shut and locked the door.

Then the whole world crashed down on him and he caved to the floor.

It was a long time before he was done.

The clock said nine as he sat on the window sill, with the window itself open and the cool night air wafting steadily in battling the frustrated puffs of his cigarette. His eyes were red, but he stared at the moon regardless, totally lost in thought.

_Hope. Why do people believe in hope? Why do people depend on each other? In the end, when all is said or done, you're on your own._

That was true, he thought. Who was there with you if you die? No one. You enter the world of death by yourself and only yourself. No one accompanied you. Then what? Would Eden be there, awaiting your _glorious_ ascension into the beloved afterlife and then read you your whole life's story to see if you're good enough to enter His kingdom? That was a creepy thought to him, something of an overlord deal. Something of a mad test of a madman-- heh, a little bit of redundancy. Did the afterlife consist of one god, as most religions on this earth centered around? Or, as the old traditionalists practiced, did all the GFs live and dwell in the ascension each with their own bit of testaments to a human's toil on this earth? Seriously, hope did not exist on this earth if one's life was being tested by a bunch of savage sky wizards.

_Oh, shit. Now I'm debating again inside my head._ He got so distracted that he dropped the lit end of his cigarette on his bare chest. He rubbed the black mark vigorously away and found himself abruptly back in his thoughts.

He knew better, though. _I've made it this far by myself. No hope allowed._

That stupid image of himself as a young fucking buck suddenly popped up in his head. That ugly mop of brown hair. That bulky yellow shirt. That stupid shy expression. _Couldn't do a damn thing as a kid, though._ _Had the whole world to grow up, discover things, mess things up, find good fortune, slay the evils of my nightmares._ He sighed. _In the end, the nightmares slayed me._ He remembered suddenly one harrowing nightmare:

_A rainy night. The full moon a badgering heathen savagely cutting into the swath of thunderheads. _

_The spider was dancing in front of him, teasing him with her spindly legs, looking for that delectable moment when he was his most vulnerable. He crouched in a fetal position in the cellar corner, his mop of brown hair shading his eyes, his last illusory bastion against the octopest. Yet, impenetrable it was not. The spider cackled, yes somehow an arachnid had the ability to cackle in his seven-year old mind's eye, and it leaped at him with ferocious fangs and a poison-filled stinger. The bite on his chest consumed an immediate toxicity in his system, but that was the least of his reactions. The bite was sharp, sharper than anything he had come across at that building. _ (What building?)_ The bite was fierce, and it woke him._

_He screamed like a madman and flung himself off the bed and onto the floor._

_A girl walked in, a sweet little brunette who was probably four or five years older than him. She came and smoothed his teary cheeks and calmed him down in a warm bear hug. _

_It was a long time before he could pry his eyes away from the dusty floorboards. But when he did.._

_"Squallie," her voice soothed at him, angelic as it always was, and matronly as he had never experienced prior. "You are safe here. Even under the sounds of the thunderstorms."_

_He could not say anything for a while, for the warmth and comfort of familiarity was his most prized treasure. He simply relished it._

_She knew as well that he wouldn't respond forthrightly. She just smoothed his cheeks again and propped him back in his bed. Smoothing out the sheets, she kissed his forehead and walked slowly out of the room, giving one final glance before leaving completely._

_Finally, his voice found room to speak, if only to himself. "Thank you.... Sis."_

He blinked.

_Sis._

He suddenly knew. And he suddenly knew the quivering at the corner of his eye. He tossed the butt into the ocean and held his head in his hands once again.

How he had forgotten all those years? Why did he forget all those years? _She_ remembered. _She_ never forgot. Then again she was always pleasing with any situation and with any person.

_Wait..._ Did that mean... if he had forgotten her, what else had he forgotten? Like, for instance, what was that building that haunted his dreams on more than one occasion, and always the constant rainy background.

_Sis._

He scoffed to himself, thinking back on hope and relying on others. He knew better. He knew his current stance. He knew his past stance. And... he knew the _real _stance. _I'll be the first one to admit that I am here because of other people._

Nothing could say it better than that simple line.

And yet it hurt so much to admit that. That wasn't the correct protocol of a Balamb SeeD. You were trained to expect the unexpected and to react to danger with heedless incentive.

Well, that was a load of shit. As Cid himself once claimed, "nobody here should turn out like a robot". Yet, the irony was that he _was_ a robot and nothing more than that. He had forgotten Sis.

_Robot. Well, if you think about it_... here it came..._ I'm fine with it all. I'm fine by myself now. Seven intense years of training have caused me to attain all the skills I need of this world._ He flung his hands away from his head, and through bleary eyes he looked at his chest and stomach. Hardened muscle mixed with lean fat, sculpted just the way a true male SeeD should be sculpted. He always liked the look of it. It was... a good look. _This is definitely not the body type I had as a kid. I was fucking doughy back then. I aint a child no more._

The image of his smaller self somehow superceded all lines of communication inside his brain, causing all nerve synapes to halt instantaneously, and he was trapped. Over and over again, that little brown-haired kid jumped here and there, walked this way, walked that way, sat down, burped. He could not shake him.

And then... he realized why.

His heart froze in his chest, and he clutched that breast sharply. For a second, he thought he was dead. Then he found himself able to breathe.

_That's a lie. I'm not fine at all!! I don't know anything. Nothing!!! I am confused! I am tiny. I am small. I am insignificant!!_

He shot straight up, lost his balance, and crashed to the floor. He stayed down and tossed himself everywhere, as if a conjurer was performing a paganistic ritual on him to appease a devillish god of blood or something. So rapid was the tossing that he hit his head against the leg of his bed and conked himself out for several minutes.

He came to and felt very embarrassed, even though no one was in the room. This wasn't the first time this had happened to him. _I don't want to depend on anyone anymore. But... how? I can't do that._

_Yes!_ he yelled at himself. _Yes, you can do that!_

_No. No I can't._

_You stupid motherfucker. Look at yourself. You're half-naked. You're blubbering around like a fish out of water. And you're moping around like a suicidal outcast. Get your ass up and do something about it._

_Someone help me._

_Pitiful fool._

_Someone._

_You'll end up depending on others after all._

He fell asleep there on the floor.

* * *

He must've not heard the previous bluster, for the knocking at his door was very loud and sharp. He realized he had not moved much in that solid sleep, still curled in a fetal position with his Griever necklace hung loosely around his neck and his bare chest flowing with goosebumps. A cool breeze was blowing through the still-open window.

The knocking repeated again, and this time a hectic voice groaned, "Squall! Get up and open the door, please!!" It was Rinoa.

"Dammit," he said in a whisper. _Not another tour_. He slowly got up and felt many kinks in his back and legs. He had been crushing his right foot in his fetal position, and it was now numb which caused him to stumble a bit and curse in his brain. "Dammit, dammit, dammit."

"Are you having some problems in there?"

"No. I'll be right there."

_"No, I'll be right there,"_ she teasingly mocked through the door. "Hurry up, already."

With fresh blood circulating through his foot, he grabbed his strewn wifebeater which badly needed an iron, unlocked all five locks on the door, and briskly threw it open. Well, she had been leading against the door, and she followed the door's opening and crashed onto the floor.

"Oh, Squallie, what are you so upset about now?" she hissed with a hint of a tease still sweltering beneath it. She had cast aside the blue coat for now and had found another black tank top to wear. Briefly, from her position on the floor and where his eyes were looking it was certainly a pretty picture to be sure. Unfortunately, he was a bit too grumpy to appreciate it further.

And, of course, the thought never occurred to him to help her back up to her feet.

Not that she seemed to mind. She hauled herself up and smoothed out her short shorts. "Well, I'm back again."

He looked at her, mesmerized by her easy-going nature. "I can see that."

She put her hands on her hips and looked up at the ceiling, giving a quaint giggle at his monotone reply. "Let's go for a walk."

"A... walk?"

"Yes, a walk. You know, something your feet do when you move them backwards and forwards."

"A walk," he stated again more sluggishly.

"Oh my god, yes. You see, the last one was a guided tour. A very cool one, despite your grumpiness and our little murder thing with that triple chin guy. This one, I think, should be a nice 'Let's-catch-the-breeze-and-talk-about-anything-nonsense-walk."

"A... what?"

"Well, I could say all that over again, but I'll just call if for now a LCTBATAAN walk. What do you think of that?"

_Complete and total bullshit._ He sighed instead and leaned against the door. "Go by yourself. It's safe in here."

"Safe, huh? Is somebody out to get you?"

"Yes. Myself is trying to get me."

"Ooh! That's always a bad thing. You can't let yourself get you all the time."

"Hmmph."

"Well, I'm not looking for a guard. You might need one, though, from all that thinking you keep doing. I figured you had gone in here for the night after that Ellone girl left. Thinking too much about everything, you know." He was looking away from her, so Rinoa walked right in front of him and snapped her fingers before his eyes, causing him to jump. "Lighten up a little, Mr. S."

He looked at her green eyes that seemed to be devouring him against that door. He was trying hard to look away, but he couldn't.

"It's not good to think too much, you know," she continued. "People will call you an Ice Princess if you don't let loose all your feelings. Who wants to be called an Ice Princess, right? Well, heh, what I'm trying to say is I think you can get some pretty good cool points around town here if you accompany me, your Highness, for a wonderful brisk walk around jolly ol Balamb Garden, aye?"

He wasn't sure if he was freaked out, turned on, or so completely indifferent and shallow as to notice the significance of this. Words escaped his lips.

She tilted that pretty creamy head to the side and slowly widened her eyes to really brighten up those green irises nestled daintly in there.

_Oh... fuck... me!_ "Alright, alright, alright. I'll go.... for.. a nice... brisk walk with you."

She giggled. "Oh, thank you, your Highness. Come quickly now. We mustn't be late for the ball, you know."

"No. We mustn't."

Well, this time _she_ led the way in no particular direction, and they walked across the circular disc like newcomers to the Garden simply oohing and ahhing at all the crystalline structures surrounding them. Somehow or another, he seemed more at ease with this ludicrousness than he had felt earlier in his room. At least the goosebumps were gone.

The intercom buzzed.

"_Attention, attention! Squall Leonhart, please report to my office immediately! It is of utmost urgency!!"_

"Headmaster Cid?" Rinoa asked.

Squall sighed, checked to make sure the Flame Sabre was on his hip, pulled the leather jacket sharply over him, and walked briskly to Cid's room on the third floor.

* * *

The Master Fisherman was just that, a master fisherman. Nobody quite knew his name, and nobody quite gave a damn about it. He was the leading propeitor and innovator of all things seafood, seaport, and seaside attraction. He was the Big Kahuna of Fisherman's Horizon, the beacon of beacons and the jewel of the sea.

He had seventeen different rods for fishing each for seventeen different fishing methods, which would be quite lengthy to talk about in this tale. Suffice to say, though, he excelled at everyone of them bringing in hundreds of bushels of fish every day with each rod and method.

Fisherman's Horizon was a large concave shell of a city resting on a stable bridge linking the continent of Esthar with the continent of Westonia, or the Galbadian portion at least. The main line of trade for the world's supply routes passed through this area, making ample justification for a Galbadian and Delinger joint military base on Annex Light Three on the western bridge near the peninsula of Delgado on Galbadia's eastern-most land. Ships from all over the world ported at FH's (the Horizon's beloved acronym) southern and northern ports. The bridge made an annoying habit of blocking a straightforward pass from north to south and vice versa, and it was directly controlled by the Mayor's subcabinet positions by a direct fee. Completed five years ago, the bridges savored most of the revenue for FH and cost all other world governments heaps to do business with it. The western bridge was the most trafficked and the most serviced for repairs. The eastern bridge linked to Esthar, and despite years of increased military surveillance, the Estharians had succeeded in passing major anti-surveillance laws on seventeen of the twenty major Annex Lights at the World Nation Conference at DeWiltzer. The seventeen blocked areas concentrated a convienent pattern for Estharian politicians, businessmen, and gangsters to do their business with FH and leave undetected.

FH itself was a peaceful and lazy town, while FH proper housed the craziness of world traffic. Run largely by two different governments, the offices of staunch capitalist Mayor West was directly subservient to those offices of staunch peace activist Mayor Dobe, and Dobe held out on almost every conflict and resolution. FH rested inside the concave shell where the working class and poor dwelled in peace and all petty crime ( no act of violent crime had ever been committed in the city's two hundred year history) was dealt with in its own light. FH proper rested on the outside of the shell but still maintained a steady hand of peaceful digression. Recognized by the entire world as a city on a benevolent post, most countries abided by their rules. Gangsters of course busybodied inside, but even they somehow found the ability to behave themselves whilst in FH proper's boundaries. It was truly an enigma that got all the World Nation members in a tizzy at every meeting.

Fish was the main economic staple as well as aluminum, copper wiring, and old wartime money back when Estharian yellow paper was the reserve currency of big business capitalists. The exact location of both FHs was highly crucial and quite provocative: all the world's fish species congregated for their annual mating grounds at the center of Central Ocean. Millions upon millions of fish dwelt underneath FH's underbelly, and the Master Fisherman above all else knew exactly how to get them when they hid during their procreation stages. Name any fish, FH had it all, and the whole world respected that and bought off them cheaply to stay on their good side. With a total population of just under ten thousand, the jewel of the sea could be easily overwhelmed by all the major cities of the world. Yet, the current spokesman at DeWiltzer the Honorable DelRay Mastersons was the voice of reason that quelled the enigmatic scholariness of Esthar's Hunters and the voracious Galbadian Chonks. Of the ten thousand, only three percent were considered affluent but there was no disproportion of wealth among the citizens. All were required to bring to the table their equal share, and matters of the state were commenced in the after.

Quite utopian maybe? Sure why not. For all its three hundred year history, there had only been three months of violent confrontations, which all resorted at one particular instance when a disingenuous citizen led a messy coup de tat against the newly elected mayor that was swiftly brought down, thus issuing in the creed of pacifism that currently blankets the town politically.

The Master Fisherman was a direct descendant of some of the first founders of the beautiful jewel town, and at the moment he was fishing unaware of a rapidly closing conch shell floating up onto the city. He sucked in a happy breath of air and searched the sea astutely for that jestering clownfish that he was after.

Some gulls alerted him with their frightful shock and gasps, and he turned to see the most unbelievable object ever. A massive... conch shell? "What the heck is that thing?" It was blue and red and green and pretty much a bunch of different colors. He wasn't the only one aware of the newcomer. Everybody fishing along beneath him on the multitude of platform piers jutting out from the concave structure dropped their rods in shock and gaze dumbfounded at the sight.

A windmill that jutted the farthest out to sea was directly in the conch shell's path, and the massive rig crushed it into pieces. The stone structure stalled the motion, but the rig had twin motors powering it and barrelled onwards, smashing apart Annex Light Fifty-Three and heading into FH proper's boundaries.

The Master Fisherman stood up and looked at the rig as it was slowly heading towards his position. He was high up above the main FH city on his secluded platform, fishing all by himself. The conch knocked over another windmill no doubt shutting off power to those people in the Sixth District. Suddenly, he felt a jerk on his wrist, and that darn clownfish had gone and snagged himself. The Master's brows alighted and glowed, but the rig was closing in. Down went another windmill that powered the Fourth District, but still that clownfish danced around! The rig was much closer now. The Master Fisherman made a helpless grunt, dropped his fine rod down into the water, and fled down the stairs as fast as his old body could carry him.

* * *

Headmaster Cid was happy that the intercom lines were back up, and that was exactly what his initial plans for sounding the call was for. Yet, those wind turbines of FH had surprised him before he could react, and before he knew it they were atop them. The collapse of four of the mills and the rupture of part of the intercontinental bridge halted the Garden from advancing further into the concave city. He had somehow found the power switch to the twin motors, but the effect was too late to stave off damages. He hoped against all hope that nobody was killed in Fisherman's Horizon.

He opened the comlink again. "Everyone please remain calm. And, above all else, please do not leave the Garden under any circumstance. Repeat, do not leave the Garden under any circumstance unless you are permitted."

The sound of the elevator behind him drew Squall Leonhart up to meet him, and Cid gave a sigh of relief. "Ah, Squall, thank you so much for coming."

Squall drew to attention and saluted, and Cid returned it. "What is going on, sir?" Squall asked.

"You have new orders. We've landed--or crashed-- onto Fisherman's Horizon. Let's try to make this as smoothed-out as we can possibly make it. Please go ashore with both Quistis Trepe and Rinoa Heartilly. Find Mayor Dobe or Mayor West in the proper limits and apologize for the accident. Tell them that we come in peace. You are my ambassador right now and my most trusted loudspeaker for this Garden. Also, take a look around the city. It would be great to get on good terms with the FHers as a way to circumvent Galbadian territories."

"...Yes, sir." Squall gave a hesitant salute.

Cid didn't return right away, and Squall kept his position. "Is there something on your mind, Squall?"

_Why do I have to go?_ "...No."

"SeeD is more than just special forces and combat training. Think of yourself as an investigative journalist, boldy searching for the key weaknesses and strengths of an area and befriending as many people as possible and worsening as few people as possible. I have high expectations of you, Squall." He returned the salute. "Now go."

Squall dropped his arm and about-faced. The two girls were there to meet him off the elevator, as if they knew they were to be called for this mission.

"Well, what now?" Quistis asked. "A new mission?"

"Yes," he answered. "We've landed on Fisherman's Horizon. We'll go and apologize to the people and then observe the city as best we can before departing once more."

"Well, alright. Let's use the observation deck, I think there's a port running adjacent to it."

Rinoa looked vaguely happy at the new embarking mission, and she trailed the two of them as they walked down to the second floor and over to the observation deck. The seasalt air met them as they opened the door, as well as three angry faces.

"Here they come," they heard a bodyless voice say somewhere to the right of them.

"Yup," said another.

Squall figured this would be the case. He made sure his gunblade scabbard wasn't too visible for them to freak out over. The voices were somewhere to the right of him, so he slowly walked out into the sunlight with the seasalt air lightly lapping at his face.

A tall man in a visor stood up sharply behind a metal plank and walked up to meet him. He was a head taller than Squall and barrel-chested. He stood directly in front of him and folded his arms across each other. "You the ambassador?" he said in a thick deep voice.

Squall looked up at him and did not waver. "Yes, I am."

"Well, we've come to warn you before you go ashore. We can see that this was an accident, but do not engage in any armed conflict inside this city. We do not tolerate that kind of behavior in here."

A dark-haired man popped up behind an oil drum. "Understand?"

Squall briefly turned to the other man and found that appearance to be more bizarre and more comical than the goliath in front of him. Of course, though, his duty was one of compliance. "Yes, we understand. We three are representatives of Balamb Garden, and we come in peace."

The goliath in front of him held his stance for a few moments, before a warm smile crept on his face. He unfolded his arms and extended one of them to Squall, who obliged a solid handshake. "Welcome to Fisherman's Horizon, representatives. We just call it FH for short."

"Yes, welcome indeed," said the goofy-looking man, "make sure to contact the Mayor in the center of the city. He definitely wants to know what happened. Although, I think it had something to do with this Garden's hapless controls."

"We'll go and see him right away," Squall replied.

"Nice to see we're on the same side," the goliath responded and moved out of the three rep's way.

"We are terribly sorry," Squall pressed, hoping to sugar some sweetness on the situation. "You all are right, the controls were pretty hapless. We only recently discovered that the Garden was mobile."

"My goodness, well don't worry about it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we FHers love to fix things up. We daily fix this intercontinental bridge, except the part leading to Esthar. It's a lot of fun to us, at least. The good thing is that nobody got hurt with the crash. A damage specialist went immediately to take a census. All's well that ends well."

"Well... good."

"Make yourselves at home, Balambers."

Squall looked at the two girls, who looked suitably relieved, and ventured onto the intercontinental bridge. FHers were already consumed with the rehabilitation. The crash had wrecked several valves and access routes, but the citizens had diverted numerous pathways into the city, and the trio were able to scale multiple levels down into FH proper.

They could see several of the wind turbines silent and malfunctioned due to the lack of surging powers flowing through their connectors. Despite that, the efficiency of the connectors would more than repair automatically back to its original state. Such ingenious pieces of work laid out before the three of them that it baffled their minds at first. Compared to the MD level of Garden, the power structures on this city suspended some thirty feet above the sea was highly advanced than anything Balamb, Galbadia, and Trabia had to call on. Squall almost figured Estharian hands had been hard at work here. The city was powered mainly by the wind turbines and a huge hydroelectric dam several blocks from where the wrecked Garden lay. It was currently working, and mountains of sifting channels passed water effortlessly through planks and nooks powering large areas and districts of FH. A small crowd were gazing at the newcomers, but their traditionalist customs only obliged them a shy sneak peek before they ventured back to their repair jobs.

All three of them had heard stories about this place before, and Squall vaguely remembered sailing past it on his way over to the island of Alcauld. FH was said to be a concave city, and they saw now why. While FH proper housed the commercial and primal real estate land, it sat on the exterior of the "bowl". A "bowl" if you will, for a semi-circle bounded up to them slowly, as they advanced further into the city. Inside the "bowl" lay the heart of FH, where the hydroelectric dam spurned its waters down to reach the residential neighborhoods there. At night, the interior wall of the "bowl" would glow green against the streaming water, adding an almost irridescent glow to the city. The "bowl" was quite literally a heart for the city and massive in size, housing the majority of the population and divided into eight sectors housing roughly a thousand people a piece. One striking thing that he now realized with some qualms and a bit of austerity was the number of religious statues dotting the various street corners. Several bronze statues of Moombas and Phoenixes, as well as the goddesses Shiva, Siren, and the god Eden. A temple mound with a small ornate abode lay in the center in front of a three story tower. On the small abode, a distinct intricate crest of Eden's signature was brightly shining in the light of the sun. On two columns leading from the roof to the floor looked to depict heiroglyphs of the lesser gods painted in blue and red.

"Religion must go hand in hand with their pacifism here," Quistis observed.

"It doesn't make any sense," Squall snorted, perturbed.

"What do you mean?"

"The Guardian Forces afflict many counts of violence time after time. We have used them to exploit many of those situations."

"Yes, but maybe they can be manipulated to not do that."

"No, they're much bigger than that. They don't follow the rules of this world."

"From history books, they seemed to have spared this city their wrath."

"....Maybe they're doing something good, at least."

They stood there on the edge of the "bowl", taking note of a steadily declining chute leading down to the heart of the city. They took in the warm bask of the glowing sun before coming back to the three-story tower situated just past the temple of Eden. "That must be the house of the Mayor," Squall said dryly.

The girls nodded and followed him down the chute.

Beautiful gardens met them on the way down, and all three of them had to gasp. Never had they seen such a tranquil and lush neighborhood of life. Several people were out having an easy time tending the gardens and plowing the yard. Happy faces were geniune and pleasing, and Squall felt transfixed in a different time and place. The artwork of the religious statues was quite impressive as well, noting every detail of what supposedly these gods and goddesses looked like. They walked past the temple mound, taking more of a note at the intriguing columns, and walked up to the footsteps of the house of Mayor Dobe.

"This looks like a cult type of thing," Squall mused. A little too loudly.

"Bite your tongue!" Quisits snapped, smacking him on the shoulder.

Rinoa laughed. "You feeling a bit out of place, Squall?"

"Come on. This _is_ a little unsettling."

"We could probably learn a thing or two here, you know," Quistis said.

"Yeah, like not coming here anytime soon."

He got hit again, as he opened the door and went inside. The inside proved to bring him closer on edge than he would've liked to have been. There was as much energy efficiency in the mayoral mansion as there was outside. The world's best lightbulbs that burned the less amount of waste was linked into special outlets, while a main wire of hydroelectricity powered the majority of the utilities. The windows were open, cutting the need for an air conditioner unit; being located in a warm area meant no need for a heater either. He heard the girls laugh at his muttering, and he walked up the staircase to attempt to escape it.

And there was the Mayor himself... playing with a deck of Triple Triad cards. Squall secretly died inside; he was not about to get involved with another mindless game of candy-colored cards. The Mayor sensed his presence without giving much of an acknowledgment, although the same could not be said for his flamboyant tropical shirt that was a mixture of pink, purple, and orange with yellow starfish and palm trees dotted here and there. His shorts were lime green, and his spectacles were pulled all the way down to the tip of nose like a crusty librarian. His wife was seated to his left in a bright, and I mean bright, pink blouse with white pants. She must have been a cortortionist, for her legs were wrapped underneath in such a pretzel-shape that Squall thought her joints were broken.

"Oy," Dobe hollored, "come have a seat."

While Quistis and Rinoa happily sat down, the wind from the opened windows faintly blowing against their face, Squall just knelt to one knee and put a hand to his chin. He could see the Mayor giving him one of those condescending looks that said everything that needed to be said. Sitting down would only enhance the feeling of "authority" the old man was trying to present to them. Squall hated that shit; it pissed him off so much that it was all it took for him to neglect his duties to Headmaster Cid and leave the little pissant's home with a slam of the door.

Dobe, himself, recognized Squall's loathness of the situation, and he himself wanted the little prick out of his house. Yet, he wondered if he could maybe sweeten the deal just a bit. Surely this pissant kid couldn't beat him at a round of cards like his old ball and chain just did. "Allow me to get to the point. Do you play cards?"

Squall knew he looked befuddled, but a quick glance toward his partners on his left and right read the same expression. "Cards?"

"Yes. What I really mean to ask is when you're going to be leaving. But I already know that it'll take my engineers some time to fix up the repairs both in your ship and in my town. I'm always happy to oblige some fixing up of sorts, but we also do want you all to leave as quickly as possible. How soon can you make that after we fix everything?"

"Well, as soon as possible, I guess."

"Good. Now," he was shuffling some cards in his hand and picking various ones that he knew would stump the little bastard. "Why did you crash in here?"

"We've been on the sea for only three or four days. When the missiles came from Galbadia, we only just then realized the Garden was mobile. We still do not know how to fully control it, yet. We are terribly sorry with running into your city."

"Aye, the missiles. Those Galbadians are always causing trouble over there in the west. Well, about your ship, I'll send some technicians to look at the console, and they'll be able to make it more efficient for you." He found the best deck and plucked it sharply on the gameboard. Blue and yellow lights flickered across the field.

"A card game, sir?" Squall asked, a bit of resolve in his voice.

"Of course, if you don't mind. We can have a bit of chat over cider as well. This town is known for hospitatilty, even to war-like peoples like yourselves." He turned to his wife. "Flo, dear, hand me that jug over there and a couple of glasses."

She smiled and flung out her legs from under her like a pocketknife springing into action and stood up faster than all of them expected. The jug was on the counter, and when she opened it a sweet sickly smell whispered out catching each of their noses. Rinoa wasn't much of an alcoholic, but the aroma aroused deep urges inside her that beckoned for some reconciliation. She looked at the jug with a hungry eye. Squall knew what Dobe's intentions were, but he himself wanted some of the cider, so he sat down on his butt and received his deck.

"You've played before I hope," the Mayor asked.

"This is only my second time."

The Mayor made no attempt to withhold a chortle. "Well, then, I'll make this a special occasion. My Shiva card has not seen usage in a long time."

"Dear!" Flo snapped. "You can't use a Level Eight on a beginner."

"Oh, pah, they wrecked my city, didn't they?"

Squall rubbed his temple. This old coot had a sore nerve that kept getting triggered. He checked a look at his cards: one each of the first five Levels consisting of a Cockatrice(6,1,2,6), a Buel(6,2,2,3), a Snow Lion(7,1,5,3), a Wendigo(7,3,1,6), and a Behemoth(3,6,5,7). When Squall looked at the Mayor's hand, he saw different colored backings that suggested the Mayor had some pretty high-level cards on him. One of them had a silver star that must have been the Shiva card. Thinking back to goody-boy Mackwell's lessons, he realized the Mayor was pulling out almost all the stops on him. What a cheap-ass bastard.

Rinoa and Quistis never really paid attention to the card crazes that ravaged the countries, but they were always intrigued by the geekiness of it, and they looked back and forth between the two man's decks. They frowned when they compared Squall's to Dobe's, and that didn't make the gunblader feel any better.

He checked out the gameboard and noticed three panels that were lit in different colors than the normal gold nine-pattern. "New rules?" he asked.

"FH's rules, my boy."

"Dear," Flo said in a nasally voice, "the boy isn't ready for Elementals."

"He'll do fine after our three or four minutes here is up."

"What's an Elemental?" Squall asked.

"Some of these Triple Triad cards have magic element symbols on their top right corner. Some have a fireball symbol, an ice shard, a thunderbolt, a water droplet, a piece of rock representing earth magic, or a vial of poison. Every card table is different, and every card table hides the magic quantity from the players, so there's a hidden sense of suspense within the game. But, ho ho, my dear boy, for as long as I've been playing I can tell the combinations and permutations of each and every table that comes my way."

Squall looked at the table and seemed to have some conscionable clue as to the identities of the "hidden" magicka. "Do you know what _these_ three are?"

"Oh, easy. One ice shard and two water droplets, which coincides nicely with what I got."

"Huh." Squall figured the old man was only one-third correct. The gunblader figured, after having dealt exclusively with the Guardian Forces, the three squares were ice, fire, and lightning. Of course, now that he knew that, he still didn't see the point of it all. "So, what else?"

Dobe pulled a random fire card out of the deck. "Say, a square had a firebolt magicka on it. All the numbers on this card would increase by one. If the number was an A, though, it wouldn't increase to anything. Now, if that hidden square was a lightning bolt instead, all the numbers on this fire card would _decrease_ by one. Nothing is lower than a 1."

"Aye," Squall said, cracking his neck. He picked up the dice and rolled a two. Bad roll.

"Hoh," Dobe croaked. "You're ready to lose already." He picked up the dice and rolled a six. "As always, I go first." He licked his lips, rubbed his hands, and placed his Shiva card on the first square that he was sure contained his "hidden" prize. Sure enough, in the bottom right corner of the table there was an ice shard hidden in there, and all the numbers on Shiva's card increased by one making her carrying a seven up north, eight out east, five down south, and a fucking "A" out west. "See that A?"

Squall scratched his temple. "Yeah, I see that A."

"You can't beat an A, ya know."

"Geez, you won't let up, huh?" Rinoa said bitterly. Her normally cheerful face was pinched together in a scowl.

"My dear. Certainly no outsider who crashes into my city expects to beat the card master of FH."

Rinoa didn't look too impressed with that, and Squall had to suppress a chuckle at her expression. He took a look at his deck. The old fucker really gave him a bad load. Nothing could defeat that A of his, and the seven on top was repelling every southern number in Squall's pile. His Behemoth card had some high-powered numbers, but the northern three was a stickler for punishment. _But what about the top right magicka square? It looks like a fire spot._ He scratched his nose. _Fuck. I am at a loss._ He put his Wendigo card with a seven up north and a six out west as the playable numbers on top of Dobe's Shiva. The sides remained even at 5-5.

Dobe slapped his knee. "Ha! You've got nothing, young man." He immediately slapped a card depicting an Imp, a nasty little purple creature with a red pointed tail, to the west of the Wendigo. The eastern seven overtook the western six and transformed the colors. "Ha!" he yelled again, jarring Quistis from her dozing off. "The score is 6-4 in my favor."

Squall cursed inside, but the warmth of the cider was flooding his veins. That insipid behavior that Mackwell had developed earlier was back in this fucker's tone. That meant a weakness to exploit. _And it's exploitable._ The Imp was weak on both north and south with a three, being dead in the center of the table. Squall brought out the Cockatrice, that had a lightning symbol on it, and looked at it. To the immediate west of the Imp was the third magicka square, and Squall was sure that was a Lightning one; yet, the Cockatrice was extremely weak on its eastern and southern ends. He didn't want to chance it. He stuck it underneath the Imp, overtaking it. The sides went back to 5-5.

Dobe snorted and lost his cheery expression briefly. "You can't change my beloved Imp's color." Not taking too much time to think, he placed a Chimera card directly above the Imp, recapturing that card from Squall with the strong south end overtaking the Imp's weak north end. "Stay at 6-4," he snorted again.

Out of the corner of Squall's eye, he saw Flo looking perturbed. _Good. I've hit a nerve. Damn, do I really know what I'm doing?_ He wanted to stay away from that firebolt in the top right, but he only had an inroad to the top left. The Chimera's west end was three, and his Behemoth had a six on the east. Slapping it down, he grinned. "5-5 again."

Rinoa let out a giggle, suppressing it quickly at Dobe's snap of a glare.

He clearly wasn't thinking now, for he slapped an Elastoid card down underneath the Behemoth totally missing the magic slot. The Elastoid didn't have a magic element, even though its northern side was stronger than the Behemoth's south. "Ha!" Dobe cried, practically levitating off the ground. "6-4 again!"

"What?" Rinoa said in a whisper. She, of course, had been following very closely. "What are you talking about?"

Squall just looked at the table. He was right earlier. That hidden magicka was indeed a lightning bolt, and all the Elastoid's numbers were decreased by one. Both the Behemoth's south and the Elastoid's north were five. The colors did not change.

Dobe, though, was elated. "It's 6-4!"

"Eh, not quite," Squall said. "The score is still even, actually."

"Listen, you little punk, I know things when I see them."

"Well, maybe you need glasses then." He indicated the table with a sharp gesture of his wrist.

"He is right, dear," Flo said in an obnoxious gesture that even the Mayor found annoying. He hesitated to answer right away and instead looked at the table, distraught.

Squall was expecting a terse response, but Dobe instead shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Eh, only my second best card. No big deal."

Squall's thoughts skipped for a second. _That was a weird response._ "Whatever, too bad I guess. " Feeling loads better, and upon seeing that the Elastoid's southern six had downgraded to a five, he plucked his Buel card underneath it in the bottom left and watched as the northern six overtook it to his color. Squall cracked his knuckles and said with a sigh, "6-4, me."

Only one square left.

The other magic one. Yet, the Mayor seemed to have forgotten about that one, too. "If I can't beat you, I tie you for a second round," he said defiantly dropping his last, a Turtapod, in the top right corner. "The Chimera's eastern six _overtaken_ by the Turapod's western seven!"

He was about to stand up, before he noticed Squall's chuckling smile. "That's fire, old man. Your Turtapod got downgraded. The numbers are the same, and the score is the same as before. You aint the card master no more."

While Rinoa continued to stifle a giggle, Quistis nudged him and whispered, "Calm down, we're here as ambassadors not antagonizers."

Squall blew her off with a wave of his hand. If the old coot was a hinge too loose, it wasn't his fault for it.

"Oh, that is so not fair!" Flo was almost on the verge of tears.

"I can't believe it. You wrecked my city _and_ you beat me in cards?"

_Alright that does it._ "Sir, for the record, I apologize deeply for crashing into Fisherman's Horizon. I do not apologize for beating you in this little game, for you played very badly, I am sad to say." He watched him snort some more. "Now, my superior might have to be notified if your technicians are to come aboard the Garden. After all, it is _his _responsibility."

"Hmmph," Dobe said. "Then, in that case, go and inform him. We'll take care of the steps necessary for you all to leave as quickly as you can."

Squall nodded and said no more. He arose and then mentally cursed as Rinoa opened her mouth.

"Why do you want us to leave so badly?"

_Dammit,_ Squall shouted in his mind. Sometimes, she could be so prying._ Who cares about their fucking reasons?_

The Mayor stretched his back. "Mayor West in FH proper only deals with the military establishments via the commerce clause we have here. Above that, all those factions are not allowed in this vicinity for any reason at all. All military organizations rely on force, violent or otherwise, to dictate or resolve their problems. That is a direct defiance of our longstanding principles."

"Yes," Flo added, in a less nasally voice. "We believe that any problem can be settled by the appropriate discussion and negotiation. If you reach a mutual understanding, then there is no need to fight."

Rinoa listened and felt something stir within her. It made her think of the countless moments of fright she had experienced in the past three years, what with the Timber resistance, the operations with Squall's unit, and the prison debacle. Each time, she had felt as close to peril as she had ever been, and she wondered what it was all for. The snotty attitudes of the Mayor and his wife were secondary, she thought, to the idealistic concept they were following. Idealistic? Well, they seemed to be doing a pretty damn good job at it. She felt at a loss.

Quistis knew exactly what Squall was thinking: _Trite, oh that's good and all, boring as hell._ She couldn't blame him. Having been cooped up in an institution glorifying the need of physical force, she didn't have a problem with it. Well, of course she had a problem with it, but what the hell was she supposed to do with it? She figured the best thing to do would be to leave the FHers alone and concentrate on repelling Galbadia. They'd have surely rendered their Garden maneuverable at this stage.

The Mayor had begun speaking again, but Squall realized he was about to fall asleep. "Violence only leads to more violence. Listen, don't take this too personally, alright, but we feel your presence here will attract that unwanted violence. You've got beef with Galbadia, and FH proper has had some commerce problems with them, too. With the addition of your mercenary forces here, we feel you must leave immediately before the situation is further detrimented."

Squall gave him one final look, before addressing the two girls. "Let's go back to Garden."

They nodded hesitantly and followed him down the stairs. Outside the tower, the sudden warmth of sunlight seemed to make them all feel much better.

"Well, that was unpleasant," Quistis opined. "I felt like I was back at the SeeD exam all over again. Or... ew.. back in the Head Guardian's office listening to my resignation as an Instructor for Balamb Garden."

"Yeah," Rinoa said, "everything was really awkward."

Squall cracked his back. "Well, you can't expect everyone to welcome us with open arms, right?"

"Nonchalantness won't help the situation here," Quistis said.

"Forget about it, will you," Squall said, "there's nothing we--" There was a shift in the wind, sour and more unpleasant than that tropical shirt the Mayor had on.

"What is it?" Rinoa asked.

Squall didn't answer, only shifting his weight and trying to detect the source. A faint sound of a chopper whirring confirmed his suspicions, and he unsheathed the Flame Sabre. "We've got bad company."

He took off running, before the girls could detect the source of his suspicions. Quistis, reacting first, unhooked her bladed whip and followed him up the chute to the top of the "bowl". Rinoa quickly followed, the pacifist words Flo had uttered still stuck in her mind.

Squall scaled the top and almost dropped his sword. An armada of Galbadian ships were banked against the southern end of the intercontinental bridge. They didn't look ready to open fire on the town, but they were sending choppers and aerial gunners armed to the teeth with rocket launchers and spike grenades out all across the span of the bridge and FH proper. There looked to be a fifteen hundred strong army. Apparantly, this was a shock and awe suicidal force, for after the ships dropped off three platoons of eighty strong men and the air force they departed and went back to Galbadia. The G-Army began their search and seizure mission.

"G-G-G-Gal-Gal-Galbadian soldiers!!!!" screamed one FHer, as he barrelled past the trio on the chute and clamored all the way down to the Mayor's house.

The soldiers were advancing quickly, grabbing as many people as they could and shouting indistinct orders. Mechas accompanied them with ever-present aerial gunners tailing their presence.

"Well, shave my monkey ass," Squall said quietly to himself.

"What are we going to do?" Quistis asked.

A loud shout erupted over a loudspeaker all across the city, ordering the immediate shelter and lockdown of all facilities. Citizens everywhere boarded up windows and fled the streets. Very quickly, the streets became empty leaving only them three alone and outnumbered on the outskirts of the jewel of the sea. Almost immediately afterwards, the aerial gunners caught sight of them.

Squall's mind was already into overdrive. Fuck the pacifist shit. Only cowards boarded up their windows when invaders came into your realm. "What support magic do you have, offensive or otherwise?"

"Everything we've collected so far," Quistis said proudly. "Mid-level magics of lightning, ice, and healing. The strong version of fire. And a poison vial. I've also managed in our spare time to concoct some protect spells. Here." She instantly casted three glowing blue orbs around them. An intense suction of energy enveloped their bodies. "That should last for about ten minutes or so. I've got some more, so we'll be fine for a while."

"Are you guys fucking crazy?!!" Rinoa shouted, startling the both of them with her fierce language. "Look at all of them. There's no way we can make it to Garden in one piece. And, and, and this town is a peaceful town, and--"

"Oh, stop it, Rinoa," Quistis said, before Squall could say it," now's not the time for it!"

"But--"

"Incoming!!!" Squall shouted, ducking down and throwing both of them to the floor. A rocket from the closest aerial gunner blasted straight at them, but it was severed in half by the fierce energy emanating off the Protect spell. Shards of shrapnel exploded all around, lacerating their bodies and temporarily blinding them with a bright flash of light. The force of the rocket blast threw them fully to the ground, and a shockwave dispersed all across the bridge, disrupting some oil drums further south of them and catching them in a fiery explosion.

The aerial gunner swiflty reloaded, but Squall leapt to his feet and sent a shock of Thundara into the motor and obliterated the fighter into a hail of fire. The first platoon of soldiers advanced, with the second not too far behind. The soldiers carried sharp sabres, tipped with electrical rods on the end to give a tasing effect on one's skin. Squall ducked as Quistis flung out her whip and sliced open several soldier's necks and torsos. The Flame Sabre whipped in neat circles and slashes, ripping apart bodies left and right. After a long hesitation that almost was the end of her, Rinoa sidestepped away from a slashing guard and fired a dart at close range. The spiked rod went through his temple and got caught in his right eye. The bastard was still alive, and she watched in horror as he collapsed to the ground and writhed in a dying agony. She couldn't stop the lunch from coming up, and she threw it up across the bridge.

One soldier pierced through Quistis's Protect field, slashing her back and catching part of her skin with the taser. At the same time, he felt a complete blow to his chest as an ice shard erupted from her palm and coarsed through his entire body. Squall came up from behind, impaled the dying soldier in the back and flung the body into an advancing line of soldiers. He followed that up quickly with a flurry of attacks, killing seven soldiers in seven seconds. The aerial gunners above were having trouble lining up their sights until Rinoa's pale frame came into view. She looked up at the same time as the gunner looked at her. Steeling her resolve, she fired a dart into the open barrel of the cannon, and the unknowing gunner fired his shell. The aerial ship exploded with the gunner's guts flying in all directions. Sharp pieces of the ship flew everywhere across the bridge, decapitating one soldier and severing off the limbs of several more. The mechas came into play, seeing as they were dealing with SeeDs. They weren't graceful or generous monsters, though, for they inadvertently crushed three of the soldiers under their feet. One of the four mechas fired a proton cannon at Squall and Quistis sending them flying back into a building. The mechas advanced; one of them scooped up Squall and prepared to dissect him. He quickly discharged a Thundara bolt into the open circuitry in its neck area, pausing the incessant creature long enough to loosen its grasp on his body. Down below, Quistis stumbled to her feet and somersaulted over a low-blow sweep of a spinning mecha. Her bladed whip hooked in an arc into the metal skin, and she crawled swiftly up its body and onto its head. Summoning an electrical pulsation in her palm, she brought it sharply down the mecha's spine thoroughly crippling and debilitating the monster. Malice was in her eyes now, and Quistis timed her leap and leapt to Squall's mecha and ripped the shaky head off it with one sick sweep of her whip. Both SeeDs jumped off the mecha onto the roof of a building and watched the two steel creatures fall to the ground in shattered pieces.

The first platoon was now dwindled down to fifty members, and the mechas retreated behind them. The aerial gunners strayed into the distance and ordered an auxillary unit to enter the fray. Somewhere down the bridge, a squadron of six blue spiked drones activated and flew up to the SeeD's location. Squall and Quistis stared in a standoff with the scared G-Army, while they slowly healed themselves to a fuller potential. They could feel the Protect spell wearing off, and Quistis applied another dosage. "Where the hell is Rinoa?" she asked.

The raven-haired princess was hiding behind an oil drum. Fires were spreading throughout the crust of FH proper, and her heart was racing. She had watched Squall and Quistis fearlessly battle the attacks, and she remembered over and over again the sick death of the soldier she had killed. What would her daddy think of her now that she had murder on her plate? Then, she thought of something else. This wasn't the first murder she had committed. She had at least a half dozen on her plate. Would the gods savage her for that? She thought of Squall. How many murders had he committed just right here alone? Twenty? Then she wondered if she was in any way religious at all, and after a moment's more thought she realized that she wasn't. That didn't make the outlook any better, and she knew she was going to hate herself later for what she was about to do. _But fuck it,_ she thought. She smiled at her bad-girl language and pictured her father's concerned expressions as she swiftly pulled out the help of a god to stave off a large majority of the opposition. Slowly, the elation of battle filled her veins, and for a moment she felt just like Squall Leonhart.

Both Squall and Quistis recognized the stir in the air, before the soldiers and mechas did. The G-Army broke the standoff first, pulling out the submachine guns they should have used in the very beginning and opened fire on the two SeeDs. The bullets came fast only to be suspended by Diablo's incredible supernatural void. A great unseen sheet of energy held the bullets in a tight vacuum. The red and black god himself plummeted from one cloud in the sky to the earth and hung above the two SeeDs. He observed the crowd of frightened soldiers and laughed as he drove the bullets back to them. At least thirty splattered to the ground, with their bodies pockmarked like swiss cheese. While the remaining soldiers of the first platoon routed to join the second, the two mechas and aerial gunners advanced on the Guardian Force. The god cackled madly and summoned his dark ball of pus-filled energy and hurled it dramatically at the enemy, coating them thoroughly in a thick gravity-filled stew that cooked their innards at an insanely hot temperature. A bright light flashed, and a huge explosion followed rippling a shockwave that flattened several buildings around the radius of the blast. Squall and Quistis were knocked down to the floor, suffering mild deafness from the impact. Diablos, in all his stupefying glory, twirled in the air and disappeared in a cloud of bats.

Slowly, his ears regained their hearing ability, and Squall propped himself up to a standing position. Quistis did the same, and they joined an excited Rinoa huddled over near the overturned oil drums. The smell of spilled crude was everywhere, and the remaining two platoons of soldiers were abandoning their stances of fighting the Balamb SeeDs and heading down towards the farther reaches of FH proper.

"Great Eden!!!" exclaimed the goofy-looking FHer who had greeted their entrance earlier. "What did you--- How did you--- Why--" He was totally at a loss of words.

Squall never felt better. The rush was in him like Quistis with her drugs.

All three of them just stared at the disturbed FHer, as if _he_ was on a different planet. The disturbed citizen only just collapsed to the ground and stared at his hands. Rapidly scrambling feet alerted the trio to the chute, and they saw Flo scurrying up to meet them, panic on her face.

"The Galbadians are here because of you, aren't they?!! They're after you!!"

Squall, Quistis, and Rinoa only stared at her, which seemed to increase her ire. Yet, before she could say anything, the six spiked drones whirred their way into sight and fired six consecutive rounds of shells all across the bridge around the humans before departing down the bridge. The Balamb reps brought Flo down to the ground into the best shelter they can find-- a nook inside the bridge-- as the bombs exploded. Huge chunks of the bridge gaped wide open, the sounds were deafening, and multiple fires erupted. The goofy-looking FHer failed to scramble safely away and was impaled through the chest by a flying shaft of flooring. Through several terrifying seconds, the blasts sustained until the four of them were able to get up. Tons of buildings lay damaged, and more FHers were splayed about in twisted poses.

"Goddamn Galbadians," Squall spat, "they're here for something."

"They're here for you!!" Flo snapped.

"No, they are not.!!"

"How do you know?"

"They would have torched Balamb Garden by now!"

All four of them looked at the Garden in the distance. It remained intact with only a couple of aerial gunners desperately routing away from the devastating cannon guns rocketing out the sides of the conch ship. In the distance, several SeeDs led by Xu and Nida were clamoring across the bridge offering support to injured FH civilians and interrogating some fallen Galbadian soldiers. A strong row of Balambers were holding the eastern exit of FH steady, while Nida was advancing toward Squall with a strident passion. To the west of them, the two platoons of soldiers were racing.

"I guess...." Flo started but could not finish at the moment.

Nida came up to Squall. "Damn, man, these motherfuckers got some balls, huh?"

"What have you found out?"

"They're looking for Ellone."

Squall said nothing for a second. "Why?"

"Orders by Edea. They won't elaborate any further, man. They've commited suicide by cyanide pill."

"Who's Ellone?" Flo asked, more perturbed than ever.

"A very important person," Squall answered.

"What does that have to do with the Horizon?" Flo cried, tears forming at her corners.

"Ma'am," Nida said with a tip of his hat. "We appreciate you all helping us out with our controls. Now, it's our turn to return the favor. Our best doctor is already out here tending to the wounded. Don't worry. We'll make sure the fallen are put to good rest." Behind him, to confirm it, several SeeDs were helping the wounded in stretchers and adminstering food aid and medical supplies. Some had moved so fast that they had corralled some Galbadian soldiers to help in the efforts.

Flo looked back and forth between Squall and Nida before giving a collective sigh. "This is all too much."

Squall looked out west. "I think they're heading toward the train stations out there. Where is the Mayor at? We need to warn the citizens out there."

"He's gone out there to talk to the commander."

"What?"

"What?" Nida said as well. "That's suicide."

"Long story, Nida," Quistis said.

"There's been too much fighting today," Flo said, "way too much fighting."

"Damn, he's a dead man," Squall shouted, as he flicked off the goo off his sword. He ran down towards the train station with Quistis and Rinoa in tow.

Nida turned to Flo. "Is there a P.A. system here?"

"..... Yes, why?"

"We need it badly. Get as many people as safely as possible."

* * *

The spiked drones had fucked up the commercial district badly, and they were circling around for a second strafe. Several large sections of the intercontinental bridge were wholly missing, and several businesses were dilapidated. Many civilians were either dead or severly injured, and massive fires were threatening more lives. None of this could end well in the most positive light.

The distinct whirrings came back around, and Squall called on the help of another GF. Faint sparkles of light fluttered in the distance, and the two blue bodies of the Brothers earth force appeared. Large slabs of disposable concrete were at their use, and they knew exactly what to do. Both of them grabbed a slab and hurled it at the sextuplets. Both of their throws missed by a long shot, and the bombs started dropping again. Pissed off, Minotaur the smaller leapt on the back of Sacred the bigger and brought out his maul. He bounced off his brother's head and made a direct hit with the lead drone. The force of the blow exploded the frame of the second drone and threw off the trajectory of the third drone. Sacred immediately hurled another large slab of concrete that exploded the fourth drone, and the remaining two routed and left the burning mess of bridge. The Brothers high-fived each other and disappeared in a cloud of light.

Squall pondered the use of Guardian Forces for a minute. They seemed to cause just as much damage as the enemy did. Yet, he felt compelled to use them all the time. It seemed the biggest double-edged sword ever. He viewed the level of destruction to the once peaceful town, and he thought about the international conflict. Now, it involved the commerce town of Fisherman's Horizon. He wondered if Esthar was watching these events closely.

The trains were definitely out of commission now, but that was unavoidable. Most of the businesses were affected and tarnished. The majority of civilians were either dead or had fled. It was a creepy ghost town now. He heard running feet behind him and saw more SeeDs approaching with Xu at the lead, her magic-imbued mace at the ready. "Flo says the Mayor went to the Train Station to have a meeting with the commander."

Squall nodded and ran towards it. It was a straight shot besides the broken-up highway of bridge metal and scaffolding. It didn't take long either to come across the platoons. They were guarding the access routes, and they opened fire immediately upon first sight of the SeeDs. One male SeeD met the first unfortunate end with a bullet straight in the neck. Xu helped Quistis fire up a large Protect shell on each of the fifteen remaining fighters, and the rest of her unit unleashed several rounds of fire and ice magic on the soldiers. Soldiers routed with flames embroiling their body and ice shards impaled in their backs. Bullet after bullet escaped their guns and made little impact within the blue protection fields, until the mechas came. One of the steel creatures unloaded a harsh piercing bullet that disrupted a section of the protection shield and cut in half a female SeeD. The fourteen remaining took cover and did hit-and-run bursts of magic against the G-Army. The two vaunting mechas advanced forward unphased by the fire and ice magic. Quistis nodded to Xu, while Squall loaded a piercing flame shell in the socket of his gunblade. The two high-ranking female SeeDs combined their weapons with Thundaga magic and fired a brilliant cloud of lightning on the first mecha stalling all circuits in its joints. Squall cocked the chamber and fired the flame shell straight off the blade and into the chest of the beast. The mecha's body blew into millions of sharp fragments that slightly injured both SeeD and G-Army member alike. The second mecha stalled a bit and waited for the volley of bullets from the soldiers to subside. A third SeeD perished in the volley, and the mecha struck. Rinoa steadied her nerves and laced a dart in her Cardinal bowgun with some Thundara energy, a trick Selphie had taught her earlier. She fired it straight into the neck of the mecha, stumbling it straight to the ground. Squall, Xu, and Quistis then bombarded the beast with a plethora of electrical energy that thoroughly incinerated the creature.

The second platoon, decimated, scattered to rejoin the third, but the SeeDs advanced far too quickly. The submachine guns could not get out in time before the magic and swords cut their bodies apart. One more SeeD died before forty G-soldiers met their maker. The rest of the platoon fled back towards Galbadia across the bridge or committed suicide by cyanide pill. The Balamb force breathed a sigh of relief and advanced onto the train station.

The majority of the train were bombed and decimated. The station itself was cleaved in two, and all the supply shops around it were out of commission. The commanding officer stood in the center surrounded by five of his companions, while the Mayor stood alone. Wherever Mayor West of FH proper was, he sure wasn't joining Dobe at the station. The "negotiations" weren't going to plan.

Squall told everyone to hold up, and he advanced quietly forward out of sight of the six-man squad. He needed to hear a little more of the Galbadian situation, but he was more than a little curious at the old coot's little.... tactics.

Squall heard a rustle behind him and looked at Quistis coming to his side. "He may not want our help, but his city is sure messed up. It is probably in his best interest if we do."

"Not that I'm wishfully thinking or anything, but they are wasting their time with the old man here. All for Ellone and all. They could have easily swarmed our Garden and be done with it."

"Yes, but you should keep that _wishful thinking_ to yourself," she said with a wink.

"I already told you!!" Dobe's voice suddenly erupted. From his position, Squall could make out a panicked look glazing the old man's eyes. _Great,_ he thought, _the old pisser is pissing his pants._ "I've never heard of this girl you call Ellone. There is nobody here by that name."

The commander snorted, and his fellow soldiers all giggled and chortled. Obviously, they all had a plan for what to do next. "Well, then," the commander said with a snarl, "we'll just have to torch this city for good then, won't we?"

"With what?" Squall grunted from his position. He heard Quistis giggle beside him.

Mayor Dobe looked incredibly shocked when the commander told him that. He started wringing his hands together. "W-W-Wait a minute! I'm telling you the truth! I have never seen this girl."

"Ha!" the commander chortled. "What does it matter? Even if she _was_ here, we'd still torch this motherfucker. Edea's orders and my pleasure, old man."

"No!" Dobe cried. "We have a careful record of all who come in this peaceful city of ours. There is nobody here by the name of Ellone."

"I guess you are losing your hearing, old man," the commander snorted pulling out a semi-automatic handgun and cocking the chamber. "I said we're going to burn this city to the ground anyway." His comrades laughed.

"Your city has had great commerical relationships with FH proper. Why is the Sorceress all of a sudden belying all of that?"

"Old man, I don't care about your commercial relationships." He punched Dobe in the mouth and stepped on his back, pinning him down to the ground. He hovered the pistol above his head. "You shall be the first of these faggy pacifists to die, ha ha ha."

The horrible grunts of his comrades alerted him to look, but the second he did he felt a sharp pain in his gut. He looked down at the Flame Sabre impaled in his belly, and he felt all his life slowly draining out of him. He slowly looked into Squall's eyes and beheld the stern gaze of a battle-hardened SeeD and instantly felt nauseous. He passed out into death, and Squall slowly drew the sword out.

Mayor Dobe slowly turned over, and Squall saw that his jaw was broken. Before he could help him up, a grating sound alerted his and his group's attention. Squall, Quistis, Xu, and Rinoa heard the lesser SeeD's shouts of an enormous blue creature coming up on them. The four fighters scaled back up to the higher ledge and saw a dilapidated blue mecha slowly grating towards them on a haphazard course to the train station. It was a vehicle, a sort of humvee-like drive, but it could easily transform into a giant robot; yet, half of its body was corroded and damaged. Blackened electrical fire had coarsed its entire body. A drill cannon in the front was heavily damaged, but the coil mechanism was very much alive.

Without warning, the broken mecha shot a haphazard drill round straight at the group. The reactions were understandably slow, and three of the lesser SeeDs were bowled over. Xu sustained a minor injury on her leg that sent her rolling off the ledge towards the six dead soldiers. The blue mecha continued forward, but something inside seemed to be trying to stall it down. A flurry of sparks and electricity escaped underneath it. Something seemed to be trying to stop it.

Yet, the drill cannon fired again, malfunctioned as it was. The drill shot beheaded another SeeD who made the dumbass mistake of leaping instead of ducking from the blast. Squall loaded a flame shell, dodged to the side of the mecha and fired at the tank legs, rocketing the rig backwards and disabling the entire drill cannon mechanism. The hydraulics inside the mecha stopped completely, and the mecha thoroughly died.

The surviving fighters slowly caught up to Squall, but he maintained his position. He heard shouting echo inside the rig. Familiar shouting. The door in the back of the rig slowly popped open, and a familiar blackened and bloody face popped out.


	18. Restitution

**Author's Note:** My, my, it has been almost two months. I am deeply sorry for the long-awaited continuation, my friends. I had the rough draft of this chapter all set out in the third week of October when a weak version of the H1N1 virus consumed my faculties. The medication stifled it, but I pretty much spent all of November feeling like absolute horse shit. Yet, it was one of those experiences where you can look back and say "Wow! I had the swine flu, how about that?"

I'm not downplaying the massive damage it has caused to the roughly 5000 people it has consumed, I feel for them all. Sometimes, though, one must experience pain to grow more stronger and more insightful about life. Such is the case here.

Anyway, Lionheart isn't done by a long stretch. We're going to get more immersed in this puppy, and just to make things more right, I've decided to take a beginning AU approach and also showcase some sexy new GF attacks. I always thought they could do more than just one-minute appearances.

Hey, we're almost at 250,000 words. Too damn short if you ask me. On with the show!

~~~ACJ

RESTITUTION

After much long toil,

the story continues on.

Lots of words to go.

_"One minute to destruction of Deling Kilo... repeat... One minute to destruction of Deling Kilo."_

Irvine shot straight up so fast his fedora threatened to fall off his head. "Oh my god, I am such an _idiot_ sometimes."

"_Some_times?" Zell asked, barely suppressing a grin.

"There's an underground tunnel used for storage of shipping parcels and ammunition over there." He pointed to the north end of the tarmac just behind the missile launchers. "It leads over to a waypoint shed several hundred yards away from the base."

"Is..." Selphie asked, puzzled, "is it clear enough away from the blast radius?"

"I don't know, but it's the only chance we got!" He wasted no time for further explanation and gathered both of them by the backs of their shirts and hauled them to their feet. The dilapidated mecha lay strewn against the corner of the compound, and they hauled ass across the tarmac. The klaxons rang, their hearts beat fast, and their legs pumped vigorously. Behind the empty husks that once contained the missiles, there was a wide drill pad. Three sets of covers were latched onto it. The cowboy stopped running and thought quickly in his head. "The middle one, I'm sure." He bent to his knees at the lever and gave a sharp pull.

"Hurry, man, hurry!!" Zell shrieked.

"Dammit, you tattoo freak. D'ya think I'm just pissing around here!" He gave another tug but couldn't pull it. His ears vaguely picked up the nasally klaxon voice counting down from ten.

Selphie wasted no time. She went up behind him, wrapped her arms around his chest, and applied extra force to help his arms. While he normally would have made a snide joke about that, he felt more than invigorated and he hauled the damn cover off. Selphie dropped immediately down, and Zell quickly followed. Both gave a sharp cry as they landed hard on the floor below, and Irvine quickly smirked at their failure to notice the ladder. Yet, he realized he was going to cry out, too. He could already see smoke. He steadied himself below the edge of the hole and forced the cover back on.

The sudden blast of heat and the incredible force of the explosion ripped the cover out of his arms and sent him sharply down to the floor landing on Zell's legs. Incredible heat met their skin, and the bright light of the fire cooked the edge of the cover hole above them. Small bits of licks crept down and fell on their bodies, and they fell sloppily all over each other desperately trying to evade the inferno. Their ears popped from the sonic boom erupting above them, and for a while they wondered if they were floating around in the afterlife. They slowly managed to crawl away from their landing zone, slipping deeper into the tunnel. Exhaustion and pain filled their senses, and they laid quiet in a stupor for several hours.

* * *

Soreness ached at all three of them. Their limbs seemed on the verge of breaking when they sat up with their backs against the wall. Smoke slowly wafted in and out of their surroundings, and their eyes were watering. Their skin was raw from several burn marks scorching their arms, legs, chest, and cheeks. Irvine noticed with great horror that his fedora was burnt to a crisp, and his hair was burnt as well. He gasped at the thought of cutting it shorter. All three of their clothes were burnt and tattered remnants, and Selphie looked embarrassed at the sight of her dress rendered on the verge of a look similar to a prostitute. Zell now looked like he had two tattoos, the real one and a nasty burn mark on his other cheek that looked almost infected.

"W-Wow," the brawler wheezed. "Could this day.... possibly.. get any better?"

Irvine reached to touch his scalp, and he cringed at the soreness. "Rogaine... would make it better."

A slight whiny noise perked their senses upward; they had the feeling a gas pipe was leaking. The sudden aftershock explosion alerted them to cover, as the gas plume erupted somewhere above them on the now-dilapidated tarmac.

"It's not safe here," Selphie coughed, "we should go."

"Quite right, little lady," Irvine wheezed, struggling to maintain his macho persona. He slowly stood up, ears still alert at the sound of another running gas leak. "If we stay here any longer, we'll probably suffocate." He took one step and stumbled into a wall. His nose became infected by the toxic fumes, and he almost threw up.

Zell brought himself queasily to his feet and hauled up Selphie to hers. Together, they eack hooked themselves under Irvine's arms and propelled him forward down the tunnel. They went steadily but quickly, hands feeling the sides, as they walked across overturned and dishelved crates and useless firearms. The majority of the ammunition had been either misplaced or damaged. Scores of Galbadian troops had anticipated a large scale buildup of the national army after Sorceress Edea made the speech at DelWitzer. There was hardly anything left.

The hobbling trio scaled the length of the darkened and smoky vault and bumped into a cold loose ladder hanging on the back wall. Irvine steadied his nerves and went up first. Feeling around at the top, his fingers curled underneath a ridge and he pried the massive grate off. It was as dark outside as it was inside the vault. The shed that was supposed to harbor around their opening lay in pieces across the desert sand. He scanned the perimeter as best he could and could make out the tattered remains of the missile base. The frame was a dilapidated husk, and the area was distinctly smoky yet most of the flames were out.

"Wow," he whistled.

"What? What is it?" Zell asked, before exploding in a coughing fit.

"The place is thoroughly destroyed."

"Well, hurry up, Irvy," Selphie whined, "we need to get out of here."

"Right, right." He threw the grate fully to the side and propped himself onto the charred desert sand. He helped her out and then the tattooed brawler. He noticed the man's cheek and scrunched up his nose. "Zell, man. Your cheek looks infected."

"Infected?"

"There's pus hanging out of it." He touched the loose flap of skin on Zell's cheek and lightly pulled away bloodied mucus coating.

"Oh, nasty," Selphie said.

"Well, fuck, man. What are we gonna do?" Zell cried, losing his edge.

Irvine thought quickly and checked his pockets. Of course, he didn't have any medication. Selphie checked her pockets and found one tiny vial of Cure medicine that had roughly three drops left. "Hold still, Zelly."

The brawler looked at the vial and knew it was going to sting like a bitch. He gritted his teeth as she squeezed the drops onto the damaged flesh, feeling the burn and feeling his skin tissue sinew together seamlessly. It didn't fully fix it, but it stopped the oozing pus. Zell shook his head in resistance, and he felt fuzzy. He was able to quickly get over that, though, when his eyes joined his partner's taking in the new scenery.

Irvine whistled shrilly. Only one wall lay standing, bent in a twisted and burned steel pretzel. Parts of the tarmac were still visible, and puddles of burning oil drenched the back end of the former base festooning near the edge of the mountains. The three of them had laid exhausted down below for roughly a good six hours, and the Sun was now well below the horizon. A thick cool breeze was tugging away at them, causing goosebumps and uncomfortability to flood Selphie. The cowboy saw this instantly and all too quickly gave her his jacket. The gesture was delayed a bit when he hung too long with his arm around her, although she did not pull away too easily.

Zell, oblivious to the two, let out a whistle shriller than Irvine's and made the two of them jump. "Holy fucking shit, dude! We did it. We blew the place up!"

"Yeah, but the missiles were launched, dude," Irvine replied with a hint of disgust.

"Maybe," Selphie began, burrowing deeper in Irvine's thick jacket, "maybe our altercations on the coordinator changed the arc of... of the missiles." Her voice trailed off at the end.

"Of course it did!!" Zell shouted in complete optimism. "I'm sure of it!"

"You're sure," Irvine said. "You're sure."

"Irvine, man! Don't be a fucking downer!"

"Listen, I'm sure we did something as well. But they hit an emergency release switch, to bypass all other modes on the control panel. It... It was a last ditch effort." His face was twinged with irritation at the thought of those shithole Galbadians using every means they had to gain the upper hand.

Selphie looked at him with shocked eyes that hurt him deeply to see them.

Zell gaped aghast. "What?!? Emergency release switch!! You never told us about that?"

"In my defense, you cannot expect me to know everything before we start. This is a new device they've only recently started implementing. To my knowledge, at the start of this mission, they were only using those devices at Deling City in the missile silos located up there."

"So??!!! This is some serious shit man!"

"You're damn right it is!" Irvine shouted, forgetting to calm his nerves. He knew Zell's bitter passionate temper, and he wasn't quite used to it yet. "It's serious that the Galbadians are so secretive they don't unleash all of their dealings in their publicized reports. It's secretive that the Galbadians had been planning this from the very beginning. It's serious that the damn Sorceress is spearheading every effort to mobilize the countryside in a massive conscription process to fight us, utliizing every method at her disposal! They're not afraid of a prison system being destroyed, and I can guarantee you they are not at all worried about this missile base being destroyed!"

".......Why?"

"They launched the missiles. Trabia has been destroyed, we definitely know that. Even if Squall got to Balamb Garden safely, the campus is destroyed. It hurts me in every possible way, but we failed, alright. We fucking failed!!! There was no way we could've possibly succeeded. The Galbadians are at least three steps ahead of us!"

He laid down in the dirt and looked at his feet.

Zell looked at the cowboy and wanted to deck him in the face. No, he wanted to mutilate his face. Cut that sonofabitch up into tiny little fucking pieces.

But he was right. There.... was no way they could have succeeded.

Anger singed his veins raw, and if he could have seen his own self he would've thought his skin was glowing fiery red. His thought processes were thoroughly dispersed, and when he raised his hand up in a fist he felt an enormous buildup of energy in the wait; he crashed the hand hard in the desert, his burning rage lighting up a deep orange circle underneath and causing a minor shockwave to penetrate the desert sands, giving the lone standing wall the final push to knock it over. Both his partners looked at his aggression and then looked puzzled as he became suddenly drained and fell on his ass in a stupor.

Selphie, unusually quiet for her persona, looked at the both of the men back and forth for several minutes before a terse frown overcame her pretty face. "Look at you boys. Glumness on one side. Bitter anger on the other. Listen, you two, you both are making me mad. And you know something, I-don't-like-being-_mad!!!!_"

Both guys looked at her and saw an irate sense of fury glowing in her eyes, and they respectfully listened and dared not to interrupt.

"Irvy, I don't care about the Galbadian's intelligence. As far as I'm concerned, they're a whole bunch of nimrods. All this intelligence. All this flair, and they cannot fight worth a damn. Yes, the missiles were launched, but like I said earlier, I have faith in Squall. Gee, that's a shocker, right? But do you know who else has faith in that guy?"

Both Irvine and Zell gave each other a look. How could they not know?

Selphie couldn't suppress a grin from loosening her irate eyes. "Squall's got more sympathy from people than he probably knows. And, maybe just maybe, he realizes that. Deep down in his antisocial behavior, maybe there is a spirit yearning for something more. That I think he will tap to deflect those missiles. I am sure of it."

Zell grinned. "Yeah, that Squall. It takes a lot to tap into his psyche. Do you think she can do it?"

"Ha," Selphie said, "she's more than capable of doing it. I think so at least."

"Selphie," Irvine said calmly, both of their eyes meeting, "even if he got there, how could he possibly deflect the missiles. I don't know of the Gardens having that kind of technology. Even G-Garden doesn't have near enough advanced material for that."

"There's more to Garden than just the crystalline buildings. I don't know how G-Garden works, but both T- and B- Gardens were about the students. The comraderie and bravery of the students are what kept the Garden running. I thought both campuses were beautiful, but they are dispensible. My guess is Squall knew that, as well, and he went there to help as many people as possible escape."

Both guys nodded their heads slowly. They figured Quistis would be the one leading that movement, considering Squall wasn't necessarily that keen on the task.

Selphie sat down promptly on her haunches. "I'm aching for another smoke, if you don't mind."

Irving looked at her slyly, causing her to blush. "Now that we're not under duress, mind I ask you something?"

She giggled. "Anything."

"Why are you a smoker? I'd never pictured that." He wasn't aware of movement behind him, and Zell's hand reaching into his shirt pocket for the pack startled him. Zell didn't bother to speak; he just grabbed one and scooted back to his original spot lighting and puffing and losing himself into caressing his hand. The impact of that pent-up rage had bruised his knuckles to a stained blue coloring, further eroding his pale skin to a more battered appearance.

Selphie giggled at Irvine's expression and then thought first before answering him. "Well... I probably shouldn't be doing those things. A girly-girl like me, it's just _so_ unthinkable for me to light one up. Really, who would've thought that good ol Selphie Tilmitt was-- insert drum roll, please-- a smoker!"

Without further word, she reached over to the pack now hanging loosely in his hand, and took the whole thing. She tapped the plastic, making sure all the nicotine was thoroughly mixed and then carefully selected just the right one. She smelled the whole stick and then lit a match off her boot and took a long drawl off it, delivering a beautiful puff of smoke from her pink full lips

The cowboy was absolutely perplexed... and intrigued. He knew he probably looked stupid gawking at her like that. "Uh.... erm...well, then I'm guess I'm satisfied."

She said nothing but continued to look at him with a slyer expression.

Zell had woken up to the steaming communication, but something else caught his eye. He snuffed the cig out in the sand and raised himself slowly up to get a better look. "What's that?" he whispered.

The other two looked behind them in the distance. Headlights craned over a sand dune, heading in their direction. They ignored the sore kinks in their joints and clamored back down into the underground vault. Irvine's jacket was a little big on Selphie, and the headlights had caught sight of that bright yellow ochre in their flash. Apparantly the source of the light was mounted atop a machine gun, and a spray of bullets strafed the sand behind them.

"Shit!" Irvine cursed. He plunged them down the ladder and then looked at his gunbelt. He was dismayed to find his Bismarck jammed and broken at the holster. The trigger was also loose and the chamber was chipped. Zell's hands were sore, bruised, and caked in dried blood, and Selphie had lost her nunchaku in the blast. All of their magic gems were liquidated, and the GFs had all perished horribly in the tussle. He needed something fast.

His ears pricked at the sound of a siren blaring and the sound of tires approaching. He flicked a match alit and found three unopened boxes by the wall. He kicked a hole in one and found a sawn-off shotgun and a rocket-propelled grenade launcher inside.

"Oh, yeah, baby!!" Zell shouted, against his partner's wishes. "I'm taking that RPG."

Irvine looked at him, and actually contemplated the brawler's over-exuberance. Yet, he complied and found two solid rockets at the disposal. Selphie watched the two gun nuts and was surprised at Zell's enthusiastic gleam; she thought he only dealt with his fists. The brawler carefully but quickly loaded a rocket inside the chamber, and Irvine swiftly loaded the snappy action of the sawn-off (affectionately called in Galbadian-speak, the Brawler M12) with eight shells. A loud screech sounded above them, and four sets of boots dropped to the ground. Someone talked on a loudspeaker, issuing demands for more ground support, and someone started descending down the ladder. Irvine aimed and blew both feet off the soldier, splattering blood across the wall and dropping the maimed corpse down to the floor.

Angry and confused shouts occurred above them, and the trio scurried their way through the vault heading for the other exit so Zell could get a pop shot. The Galbadian soldiers ignored as best they could their former friend's guts drenched on the rungs of the ladder and descended down. Irvine cocked the Brawler's chamber and shot another shell into the back of the next descending soldier, dropping that man in a sea of blood.

Zell reached the other end first, slung the launcher around on his back, and slowly scaled the ladder up. Selphie came up behind him, and Irvine crouched low cocking the chamber again. There was more light over here, as the moon slowly plowed its way through the clouds.

The Galbadians declined to use the ladder, and they slowly picked up on the vault's path. Zell quickly got out of the hole and realized he had precious few seconds to spare. The gunner on the humvee reared his railgun around in a ninty-degree arc, and the brawler crouched to one knee bringing the RPG up to a horizontal level. The two ground soldiers saw Zell's position and blindly open fire, missing him altogther. Zell unleashed the rocket and blew up the humvee, incinerating all three soldiers where they stood. Zell expelled the spent chamber and stood up, defiant.

Selphie helped Irvine out of the hole, and the brawler turned to him with the launcher resting lazily on his shoulder. "Irvine, man, why does the G-Army suck so bad?"

"The G-Army sucks horribly. The Galbadian SeeDs, however, do not."

"Aren't they the same thing?"

"Fuck no. That's considered blasphemy, you know."

"Blasphemy my ass. They're all the same."

"No, they're not. The SeeDs are just like you guys. You see, Zell, I'm part of the SeeD unit. Sharpshooter A Class, to be exact."

Zell set the launcher down. He really didn't like guns, yet he liked explosive things, so he was caught between a rock and a hard place. "Oh yeah, you couldn't do the assassination mission without having been a SeeD."

"Of course. Believe me, the G-SeeDs are exceptional fighters. The G-Army is a bunch of useless paychecks."

"Not Laguna, though," Selphie said.

"Yeah, why is that?" Zell asked. "He, Kiros, and Ward seem to kick major ass all the time. Even if all three of them are a bit of bumbling stooges."

"Laguna?" Irvine asked. A curiously knowing tone was in his inquiry.

"Yeah, Laguna Loire. From the dream world."

"...Dream world."

"Zell, honey," Selphie chided, "Irvine doesn't know anything about that."

"I don't know," Irvine said. "But I seem to recall losing part of my awareness and becoming someone. A black guy to be exact with some pretty sharp daggers on his wrists."

"That was Kiros!" Zell said, attaining again his suredness.

"You really saw him?" Selphie asked.

"Saw him? I practically _was_ him," the cowboy explained. "I did everything he did. Felt like I was getting hurt by everything that happened to him, too. He had gone to this village after being severly hurt by something, and he ran into this shorter guy that was protecting the village from monsters or something."

"Really?" Selphie asked. "Well, I don't know about the village, but that shorter guy is Laguna."

"Oh, wait you two know about these two characters?"

"Yes," both Selphie and Zell said.

"You... said another name."

"Ward," Zell said. "I was him in the last sequence at the prison. He was actually working there. We couldn't find him in our escape. I hope we didn't accidentally... _kill_ him... by accident."

"Zelly, that's a silly thought!"

"So is this conversation," Irvine said, lying down on the ground. "It doesn't exactly sound very settling."

"Irvy!! This is _really_ important!! Both Squall and Quistis have experienced the same thing!"

Irvine looked at Zell, who nodded in confirmation. "Both of them?"

"Yes," Selphie and Zell said in unison.

"Rinoa, too?"

"Surprisingly, no," Selphie said.

"That I can't figure out," Zell clarified. "As far as I've seen, our group's been involved in three sequences so far. One going to Timber, in which me, Squall, and Selphie went under. Rinoa wasn't with us and neither was Quistis. Then, all five of us were together in a forest outside G-Garden, and then Squall, Quistis, and Selphie went under. Rinoa and I stayed out, and she was absolutely freaked until she heard my explanation. After that, she was just confused, and she sat down with her dog and waited until they woke up.

"Finally, at the prison. I went under, but all three girls didn't. I've been assuming that these sequences require three people to happen. Three people, I thought at least, in the same vicinity. Yet, there were four of us in that prison cell, and I was the only one that went under. To that end, I can't explain."

Irvine remained quiet for a minute. "It's been.... what... a day since we escaped the prison?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Hmmmm."

"What you got cooking in that brain of yours?" Selphie asked.

Irvine remained silent. "I fell asleep suddenly on my way over here from General Carroway's office. Out in the middle of this desert. You know what's out south of us, right?"

"What?" Zell asked.

"Dragon zombies. Not quite what you want to see in a defenseless position."

"Dragon zombies?" Selphie cried. "Are we safe here?"

"Yeah, we're fine. There's just Cactuars up here. Anyway, I fell asleep after being annoyed by an incessant buzzing sound." He noticed Selphie and Zell exchange a knowing look that only furthered his disappointment. "Then, I felt everything in my body shift. I felt my skin grow tighter with more lean muscle. I felt my height decrease by about three or four inches. I felt my vocal cords tightening into a deeper tone. All of a sudden... I'm in a fucking pub!

"There's this real cute woman behind the counter and a sweet little girl running around talking to this leather-jacket wearing guy. And then, both of us meet eye-to-eye and start talking. Apparantly, his name's Laguna and my name is Kiros, and we're seemingly ex-soldiers of the Galbadian Army and longtime good friends. We talk at the bar for a few minutes and then we go out on this Monster Hunt quest thing, and we end up kicking some major ass. Then, we hear about this Laguna guy's inner struggles with himself; I swear it made me think of Squall there for a second. Then... well... nothing else happened after that, and I woke up.

"Didn't think too much of it after that. Got Rinoa out, saved you guys, and then blew the place up. Funny, hearing you two talk about your past experience has really made this little dream of mind seem... a lot more than just a dream."

"So....." Zell began," if I had the sequence... and you had the sequence..."

"Then....?" Irvine asked.

"Squall had the sequence," Selphie said with solemn contention. "He was Laguna, if you were Ward, Zell, and you were Kiros, Irvine. Now why that is.... I do not know."

All three became silent, and an uncomfortable feeling mixed with a peculiar close bond between them. They felt repulsed but compelled to endure in it with a mysterious knowing commitment.

Irvine scanned the night sky and deduced the time to be just after midnight, judging the moon's position. "Let's get some rest, and we'll head out in the morning."

His partners nodded, and they dropped to the ground and rolled over. All three went to sleep immediately and relished good dreams free of Galbadian soldiers.

* * *

Irvine knew something was awry even before he opened his eyes.

A barrel of a shotgun was cocked inches in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Zell and Selphie already awake and staring wide-eyed at him with their hands cuffed behind them.

"You're a steady sleeper, Kinneas," the head soldier snarled behind the shotgun-weilding deputy. "You didn't even startle when we bumped ya earlier."

The cowboy sighed and remained where he was. He gave the seargant a dissatisfied and bored look and crossed his arms across his chest. "Morris, right?"

The seargant was chewing on some dip, and he nonchalantly spat a spooge next to Irvine's ear. "You're good with names, cowboy. Ya know that?"

Irvine only shrugged.

"Get us out of these cuffs, you moron," Zell snapped from behind them, "so I can take y'all head-on."

"You're spiky-haired friend is a bit of a pain in the ass," the seargant Morris griped.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Irvine asked.

"Well, we'll take care of him later. Right now, I'd like you to get up off the dirt for now."

"Nah, I think it feels better down here."

Morris laughed in short giddy bursts and pressed the barrel right on Irvine's nose. "Get up, cowboy, or we'll do some naughty stuff to that girl over there. Seems she's the one who coddled you all to destroy this base."

Both men looked at each for a long minute, before Irvine finally nodded and three other soldiers came up and hauled him to his feet. Twisting his arms around, they tied his hands together and for good measure kicked the back of his knees. Irvine grunted, but his eyes were averted elsewhere.

The seargant Morris was holding his Bismarck. "Quite a nice gun you got here, Irvine." He inspected every component and then slowly dissolved it into scrap metal. "Too bad it's of no use, though. The trigger mechanism is all jammed. Didn't it used to hold Blitz stones."

Irvine only looked at him.

"Yeah, it did. Well, cowboy, you mind telling me why you all burned down this base and then gunned down the support crew coming to check on it?"

"You know I like to cause trouble."

"Yes, I know. You do. Now please answer the question like a good little cadet." He spat another spooge that sailed past Irvine's cheek, traces of brown oozy spittle lightly grazing his skin.

The cowboy gave a little grin. "We like to decorate things over at Balamb. This place here needed a few.. changes."

Morris laughed heartilly. "Why that's fucking hilarious, sharpshooter. Fuck--ing hilarious." He took the holster of the useless Bismarck and jacked Irvine's jaw. Blood squirted from a painful cry lurching through the cowboy's stomach.

"You maniac!" Selphie shouted at Morris. "You Galbadians know nothing except useless coercive techniques."

The Galbadian foot soldiers chortled furiously amongst themselves, as their eyes roamed all parts of her body. Her torn dress was an amorous appearance and quite honestly something they had not seen in a long while. Morris whirled around slowly and scoffed at the nunchaku wielder. "Honey, let's not get fresh here on my watch."

With the soldiers distracted, Irvine took his leg and whirled the boot sharply straight into the seargant's balls. Guns cocked all around him, and one butt of a rifle slammed into his ribs. Zell looked ready to rip his arms out of his sockets to jump the Galbadians, but the handcuffs were too resistant.

Morris stumbled getting up. "You cocksucking motherfucker." He unleashed a small dagger from his belt. "Your neck will have a thin line run across it."

Their eyes locked together, and the seargant slowly walked forward once two of his subordinates grabbed and held Irvine's face in their steady strong hands.

Morris placed the knife firmly to the side of the cowboy's chin and gave a despicable snarl. Yet, he did not slit the throat.

His skin seemed to grow colder.

Everyone else felt colder as well.

The almighty Sun faded in the sky, its warm radiant light paling into a bland and musky blueness. Snowflakes dribbled lazily to the ground and quickly made the desert sand into something of sludge. Far off in the distance, a flash of light centered around a heap of twisted metal where part of the missile base once stood. A sharp crack of something fusing together smacked the stillness of the air. Everyone stood motionless. Morris took the knife away from Irvine's neck and walked forward to get a better look at what was occurring. His subordinates did the same, and Irvine was let go.

He and his two companions seemed frozen in awe as well.

Large pieces of metal slithered away, and a tall lithe figure slowly levitated off the ground. A naked beautiful ice-covered woman.

"Shiva," Irvine said under his breath.

"Kill her!!!" Morris shouted, fear siezing his tone. His soldiers fired as quickly as they could, but their bullets became lost in an ice shield that was raised around her. She laughed teasingly and floated higher in the air. Waving her arms slowly, she produced a blueish-purple shield around Zell, Irvine, and Selphie and then created a couple of ice daggers in the air. She gripped them fiercely in her smooth hands and then dashed down on a sloping path of ice, her body arched forward and her daggers clenched in attack positions. The frontmost soldier felt the first wrath, as she twirled the lefthand dagger around in a circle and decapitated him. She skipped once and flung the righthand dagger into the second soldier's neck; spinning around, she plucked it out and made a deep gash in the torso of the third soldier, his stomach and liver and lungs slowly seeping out to the sand. The fourth soldier desperately emptied his clip but watched in horror as the bullets did nothing but sink into her skin and then slowly drip out leaving nothing but empty holes that quickly stitched back together. The soldier dropped his gun and watched as she seductively walked up to him with both dagger arms stretched out to the side, before slicing both into his neck and out in a quick painless fashion.

Morris and Shiva exchanged glances; and he cursed inwardly, took his dagger and slit his own throat.

The Ice Goddess gave a little thrust of her blueish-yellow hair and looked at her loyal summoners. Irvine and Zell were too awestruck to do anything, so Selphie was the first to respond. "My goodness! Thank you, my Goddess. I didn't know dieties could be so ruthless like that."

The Ice Queen giggled harmlessly, masking the brutality she had just committed. "Can't let the males have all the fun."

Irvine was more than intrigued.

"We saw the mecha destroy you, though," Zell noted.

"Nothing on this earth can destroy a god, unless the god wishes to be destroyed."

All three humans nodded at that.

"The more you call upon us," Shiva continued, "the more we will be able to trust you. Even when the costs are so great."

"What costs?" Irvine asked.

Shiva waved her hand in the breeze. "Oh nothing too serious." She gave a little laugh and then slowly faded in a mist, forming into the familiar blue GF gem. All three of them looked at each other a bit, secured the gem, and walked over the dead bodies.

The Queen's power shield had burned of their cuffs, yet singed their wrists at the same time, so they spent some minutes soothing their burns before finally realizing that they had to get the hell out of the desert.

"More are bound to show up if we stay here. They need to know about this base," Irvine said.

"Shit man, we've got Shiva back now," Zell said, "I think she can kick their motherfucking ass!"

"Still," Selphie declared, "we need to leave at once."

A glint of metal caught Irvine's eye, and he stood on his toes. The flash was unmistakable. "Well, I'll be damned. It's that mecha.... or what's left of him." He ran towards it, and they followed.

The blast had shattered more pieces off it and flung it several hundred yards away. When they ran across it, they were shocked to find it in an operable state. A weak blast from its rotary cannon strafed at them and charred a desert dune to their left. The mecha creature was in a transformation process into its original vehicular mode, yet the missile base blast had severed some of its key trigger mechanisms off. The mecha was preparing another blast, but Irvine produced Shiva's gem, and the creature seemed to halt its attack moves. The cowboy was surprised the dilapidated metal seemed to have a quick-thinking brain function.

"What are you thinking?" Zell asked. "Riding this thing?"

"Goddammit! It's a ten-day trek on foot to the Central Ocean. We've got to get to Balamb, Zell, and the only way to Alcauld Island is through the Timber station which is another one to two day trek from the edges of the Yaulney Desert. It'll be roughly two whole weeks before we can get some bearings straight. This mecha creature here is specifically designed for off-road riding, the conventional ATV as we at G-Garden called it. Hell, some have even made these things fly, but I doubt we can make this thing do that."

"Hell, I doubt we can even make it drive."

"Well, I say we try," Selphie said siding up next to Irvine. "Is it safe to work on?"

All three of them looked at the mecha which only looked back. "I know how to handle these bastards," the cowboy said, and he got straight to work.

* * *

It took the rest of that day and the whole night. The damn mechanical beast refused to relinquish some of its parts. The rotary gun was by far the most trickiest mechanism. Twice it went off by accident, almost severing Irvine's limbs off. Too many components had rusted from the explosion, and he was forced to amputate part of the lines. The drive across the desert would be a bumpy ride to say the least.

By dawn, the creature had transformed into a rickety mobile vessle with part of its attack mechanisms open and primed. It looked like a Frankenstein monstrosity, but it had enough gasoline to reach the edge of the continent. "I figure," the cowboy said bandaging some of his workman wounds, "there is a fueling depot on the outer edge in Wazoo. We'll fill up there."

"Any food?" Zell asked, feeling his stomach.

"Hell if I know. I haven't been around those parts in years."

"Will it take a full day to reach there?" Selphie asked, climbing into the hull of the vessel.

"I'll be surprised if it takes longer," Irvine replied following her shapely rump with Zell right after him. The hull was tight and claustrophobic. Its original state of being was much more expansive, but the explosion had clearly done a number and several holes were pockmarked in the frame in the back. Sand had invaded wires in the upper roof frame and damaged some key components of the mecha's structure, most notably the cooling unit. It was hot as a Chocobo's testicles in there.

"I wanna drive this thing," Selphie squealed.

"What?" Irvine said, very surprised.

"I said I wanna drive this thing."

"You don't know how to drive this thing."

"Do you?"

"Ye-- well, no not this particular model."

"Then we're even. I'm going to drive this thing."

"Now wait a minute, I think--"

"You think a girl can't drive a stick?"

He looked at the manual transmissions and looked at her greedy paws and determined eyes.

"That's what I thought, cowboy. Brace yourself on that pipe wall there and let a real woman take you for a spin."

"What the fuck?" Zell asked, raising an eyebrow.

Irvine clumsily curled a hand around the overhanging pipe and widened his eyes arousingly as the spunky curvy SeeD professionally started the mecha vehicle up and thrust the transmission into drive. Implementing the clutch perfectly, she gracefully hauled the massive drooping beast forward, and the desert sand flew by them at a greater clip than they imagined. She looked back at him briefly, and both their eyes registered an unspoken sense of trust and closeness that intrigued their wildest thoughts and imaginations. Irvine broke the glance first and settled back into a seating position, wishing for a private area to clear his mind out.

It was the third day since they had last seen Squall Leonhart, Rinoa Heartilly, and Quistis Trepe and the very thoughts of them lay heavilly and hopefully on their hearts. The unknowing was a gloomy avenue for them to ponder but essential nonetheless. As SeeDs, they were trained to not easily embrace their emotions forthrightly; yet, those strict regiments were evil to their minds. They knew Squall was different, they knew he was a man who abided by a strict sense of code and honor. While that was fine for a certain purpose, it made one look almost robotic and feeble in many avenues of expression. The thought of seeing the three of them again was too awesome to even describe, and they cherished the thought privately and did not speak of it at all on the desert trip. The thought of them perishing in a missile strike did not even register. It seemed their hearts were already set in a predetermined scenario where good things are always concrete and everlasting.

The drive was mundane. Only one thing caught their eyes: the charred husk of the former prison. A scarred demonic animal, a Dragon Zombie according to the cowboy's extensive knowledge of Galbadian affairs, busied itself around the former frame of the prison and paid the hulking mecha no heed. The Zombie was a massive skeletal creature with dark green breath billowing out it clownish muzzle. It looked slow and feeble but deadly accurate at the same time. Selphie gave it a wide berth and continued on an easterly track to the supposed "fuel depot" near Wazoo. The sun was approaching Noon.

It was almost four, judging by the sky when a glint of the ocean appeared to meet them. "Damn, my tummy," Zell whined. He was lying on his side.

"Zell, who the fuck says 'tummy'?" Selphie asked, even while she clutched her stomach as well.

"I do," he snapped, half-heartedly clawing the air with his hand.

Irvine felt his stomach, too, and he hoped that his earlier musings about a Wazoo city and fuel depot site were correct. He really had no idea if that was true at all.

"Hey, what's that?" Selphie asked.

The boys craned slowly forward. Part of the terrain curved inward around a steep gulch with a small mountainous heave rising slowly in the air. A cave was embedded in the side with a waterfall to its north pumping out crystal clear water. Fruit trees and deer littered the area, creating a serene atmosphere.

"Mmmm... deer," Zell mused.

Selphie gasped. "Don't tell me you eat deer."

"Oh... I love deer," he replied leaning forward and licking his lips.

"I do too, actually," Irvine said, reaching forward and pulling the E-brake on the mecha. The vessel came to a halt, and he popped the door open. He reached back to the farthest wall of the hull and plucked off a razor sharp pole and stepped out onto the warm grass. Selphie shook her head slowly but thought of the good taste of fresh meat stoked over a fire. How she had loved the Verizon deer in Trabia where they romped around the Garden so vivaciously. Balamb didn't have much of an animal population besides the Bite Bugs that roamed around the lower edges of the island. She sighed and followed the boys out of the vehicle. It was good to stretch her legs out at least.

A couple of deer left from all the commotion, but one stupidly stayed and nibbled at a peach bush. Irvine steadied his rumbling nerves and flung the sharp pole with all his sharpshooter skills. It plunged straight between the shoulderblades and pierced out the breast, barely missing the heart. The deer gagged and hobbled painfully across the grass before succumbing to its feet a few yards away.

Both of the boys felt a little guilty, and Selphie made them bathe in it for a few minutes before they all went to gather up the carcass. She then went to collect some fruit while Zell fetched some wood to make a fire. Irvine carved up the animal into sizeable chunks, and Zell created the fire. The Sun dipped into dusk as the deer entered the first stages of cooking. The smell of the meat burning was more than salivating, and they needed something to eat fast. Selphie's berries were a delectable bunch: raspberries, strawberries, blueberries. A healthy mix of peaches, and an apple tree to boot. By the time the deer was thoroughly cooked two hours later, their stomachs had strengthened up immensely... just on fruit! The meat was incredible, though, and their constitution was upgraded immensely with the thick and juicy venison.

"Holy shit, this is fantastic!" Zell exclaimed.

"Indeed," Irvine agreed. "Man, I tell you we've been through a lot. I guess this is a simple way to express our victorious winnings."

"It's a respite," Selphie said, "we still need to regroup with Squall first. Then, that'll be a victorious winning."

"Right, right, right. Hey, we need some drink."

"Spring water coming right up," Zell exclaimed, jumping to his feet, snatching a basket from the hull of the vessel and running off.

Irvine chuckled. "That man acts more boyish every time."

Selphie chuckled as well. "At least you two are getting along better now. I remember when you two first met, it wasn't much of a pretty sight."

Irvine was silent for a bit. "Yeah... you're right. Well, he can still be a little standoffish."

"All martial arts students are like that. Even SeeD ones."

"Yeah, the G-Garden students are all like that. Just because they've won more wars doesn't make them the most badass people on the planet."

"... Do you ... like Galbadia Garden?"

Irvine wiped his lips with his sleeve, raising an eyebrow at her question. "_Like_ Galbadia Garden. What kind of a question is that?"

"It's the kind that needs an answer."

He gave a short laugh. "I don't like Galbadia Garden."

"Then why do you keep talking about it?"

"Well.... uh..well, I was practically raised there. I really haven't been anywhere else besides this continent."

"Ah, I see. That explains your suaveness and unvarnished lady man's charm."

"Oh, gee, Galbadians aren't _that_ smarmy."

"You're not _too_ smarmy."

"Just a little, huh?"

"Just a little, yes."

They exchanged looks for a minute before averting to some uninteresting trees and bushes. "Well," Irvine said clumsily, "the sky is pretty clear today."

"What?"

"The sky. It's pretty clear today."

"The hell do I care about a sky being clear today?"

"Of course not. That's the whole point."

"Are you testing me?"

"Nothing like a good test. Let's me know you're worth the time."

"Well, I think the sky looks muddy and dull," she teased, pursing up her lips, "do I _fail_ the test."

"I don't think you could fail any test."

"Well, that's a given," and they broke into a quiet laughter tinged with a slight awkwardness that wasn't too unsettling.

Zell appeared then with more than just water, and of course once more oblivious to the wonderful moments of intimate human connection. "The water tastes good here."

"What does it taste like?" Irvine asked.

"Like water." The brawler sat sharply down and gave each of them the water basket in tow. "Check these things out." He produced six bright shiny orbs shaped like mushrooms that glowed with strange sparkles.

"What the hell is that?" Irvine asked.

"I don't know."

"Draw Points," said Selphie with a weird and bright gleam in her eyes.

"Draw Points?" Zell asked.

"Did you not take the SeeD exam?"

"_Did you not take the SeeD exam?_" he mocked. "Of course I took the damn SeeD exam."

She grabbed the orbs out of his hand. "Well, in that case, you had probably taken one of these things before you went in there. These things are magic stores. They hold a certain magical element in them."

"Really?" Irvine asked.

"Yeah, remember when you used Scan on that mecha creature in the prison and got that magic from it? Same process here, and a whole lot safer. It... has an extra benefit, too, but we'll find that out in the process."

"What kind of magic?" Zell asked.

"Every one is different. If I recall from the test, there's five Draw Point locations around the world. Three solitary ones on this continent, one on Trabia, a couple in Esthar, and two massive Draw Point islands somewhere out in the sea. One of the locations on this continent was in Wazoo, so at least now we know Mr. Cowboy is telling the truth."

"Like you doubted me."

"Who wouldn't?" Zell laughed. "What's the added benefit, Selph?"

"......It's also a hemp."

Both guys looked at her with wide eyes, and she stared back with a pleased expression. They each took two orbs and ate them. They each were fresh and tasty, and all three of their bodies were immediately consumed with a warm and relaxing feeling. Selphie felt ice magic and something akin to a double helix flow through her. "Blizzaga and Double magic," she breathed soothingly, lying down on her back and watching a giant pair of scissors strafe across the sky cutting bright pink unicorns up into tiny pieces amongst the clouds.

Irvine felt a hot blaze of fire coarse through playfully on his abdomen as well some bit of toxicity lace enticingly up his spine. "Mmmm... damn I didn't think Firaga and Bio tickled that much." Giant hummingbirds flew through each other as if they were sand shifting through cardboard.

Zell felt a waterfall coarse through his veins followed by some sort of hailstorm of sharp rocky objects. He smiled at the thought of adding Water and Meteor to his repetoire of magical skills. He was also very curious at looking at his palm and seeing all the lines squirming around like spiders on a spiderweb. "I was always high on life, ever since I was a little boy."

"Shut up man," Irvine said lazily, "you were never a little boy. You were a little girl. Like Goldilocks."

"You fucking ship-shippin shipfucker."

"What?"

"What?"

"Oh man."

"I feel really good right now."

"Then let's get some sleep boys," Selphie laughed. "We need to let our bodies recuperate from all this intake."

"Just as soon as I know what a shipfucker is," Irvine said. "Does that person get splinters down there or something?"

"Irvy, go to sleep."

"Or barnacle growth perhaps?"

"Irvine."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Dawn broke on the fourth day, and the sound of a large tanker awoke them up from the best slumber they had ever had. The mecha vessel lay quietly to the side, patiently waiting for them. Over the horizon of the hill they were on, though, they saw a massive fleet of Galbadian ships sailing towards a long bridge that lay several miles east of their present position.

Irvine patted his head slightly to get all the kinks out, slowly stood up, and assessed the whole situation. "Shit, that's a lot of people."

"The fuck's going on?" Zell asked, jumping to his feet.

Selphie slowly got to hers. "Is that the whole Galbadian navy?"

"Most of them," Irvine said. "They're headed for Fisherman's Horizon."

"That old trade post that everybody goes to?" Zell asked.

"Yeah, if we take the mecha down there to the south, we can get on the bridge and meet them there."

Zell and Selphie stared at him wide-eyed.

He realized what he had said, but he felt confident enough. He saw the glint of metal way off in the distance. "Look way out there."

They followed his outstretched arm and shielded their eyes to get a better look. A small speck of blue and gold tinged the horizon somewhere on the center of the bridge. It looked very familiar, and the two of them did not have to ponder long and hard to guess at what it was. Irvine immediately went to power up the beast and the others followed him in. The gas tank was low on fuel, but Irvine gunned it anyway. There was indeed a fuel depot down on the farthest peninsula, but Galbadian soldiers and merchant marines were busy utlizing the docks. The sharpshooter gunned it down the side of the ravine and headed for the bridge.

The three of them failed to see a ridge in the landscape of the terrain, and the mecha vessle sputtered sharply over the gape. The rickety structure began to lose its frame, and a piece of side panel came off and tore Selphie's back open. She let out a squeal and fell to the side. Irvine grunted as the controls reacted wildly to the lunge. The mecha's flooring came loose and parts became undone, splintering the ground with sharp metal pieces that ground the mobile tract beams painfully. Irvine fell out of the seat to help Selphie, and Zell took the controls righting it back with all his strength enough to reach the entrance to the bridge.

He cursed loudly, and his two companions looked at him warily. "There's Galbadian troops by the entrance!"

Irvine cursed and applied pressure from Shiva's cooling gel onto Selphie's back. He saw her tighten up from the contact, and she embraced him stifling her screams into his chest. "Zell, just be cool and roll on by."

"Fuck that shit, man, they'll kill us."

"I have a feeling they won't."

"They want us to stop, man." The brawler noticed several guards gesticulating stopping motions with their hands.

"Do as they say."

"What!"

"Do as they say."

"Irvine, you fucking--"

"Do as they fucking say!!"

Zell continued to stare at him.

"Trust me on this, alright?"

Zell tightened his fist, released it, and pulled the brake. The quaking craft slowed to a nasty halt, and more pieces of its frame came off. The closest guard ran up to the entrance and pulled the hatch open. Light traces of smoke came off the hydraulics.

"Are you folks okay?" the soldier asked.

"We're the last surviving units from Deling Kilo, private," Irvine coughed. "Our partner here's been maimed in the fighting. We need to get to FH for some supplies."

"Well, that's exactly where this outfit is going, sir. Best be careful, though, things are about to get shitty around here."

"Why is that?"

"We're looking for a girl. Rather, Edea is looking for a girl. She thinks she's in this trade facility. If the citizens don't hand her over, we'll burn the place down."

Irvine swallowed the anger rising in his throat. "All that over a girl, you say?"

"Yes, sir. Haven't you heard-- oh wait, yeah the Kilo guys weren't informed yet. My apologies, sir, the Sorceress is looking for somebody named Ellone. This Ellone girl has a vital importance to Her Majesty that she so greatly desires to have. Anyway, we here in this outfit don't give a fuck about that. If you don't mind my language, sir."

"Not at all, private, I'm not the least bit interested either."

"We'll help you three along the bridge. The cavalry will be arriving shortly." He closed the hatch and ordered some people to attach ropes and levers around the tracts of the mecha cruiser, and before long the hobbled frame was riding across the bridge. Ship upon ship of the Galbadian fleet were drawing nearer and nearer to the trade city. It seemed FH was about to witness a blitzkreig.

"Ellone?" Irvine asked rhetorically.

"Yeah," Zell asked coming off the driver's seat, enjoying the almost-automatic pilot feel. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"The little girl from the dream Squall was talking about?"

"That maybe... and something else."

"Yeah, that resonates a little stronger than some weird dream."

Selphie sat up, her back soothed up a little better thanks to the Ice Queen. "I feel like I've known that name from sometime ago."

They sat in silence for the rest of the trip contemplating. The path across the bridge was long and bumpy in the claustrophobic and acrid hull, and they were just about to pass out from the conditions when something incredible happened.

A flurry of battle activity broke out across the outer suburb region of FH proper. Spiked drones flew everywhere and rained down considerable carnage against the seaport structure. The levers and cords snapped off the mecha vessel, and the Galbadian soldiers abandoned them to enter the city. The mecha carved up deep scratches in the bridge flooring, and the three SeeDs were pushed violently to the control panel. Zell looked out and saw the majority of the Galbadian ships leaving, and a flurry of soldiers entering. "What are they doing?"

"They're sending in a sacrifice squad. Someone's causing problems?"

Irvine's implication ran as sweet music to their ears, and Zell snapped to the controls. The mecha, though, had other plans. It armed the controls itself and took off into the city, scraping the bridge's flooring and rattling them around in its cage abominably. No matter how hard Zell fought the controls, the vessel would not cooperate or stop at anything. The three of them were pushed hard on the ground and cut off from an outside view. They rattled and slipped and heard numerous explosions and screams and fights break out all around them, and they were disoriented and confused and pained. The movements opened healed wounds on all three of them, and their blood caked the walls of the hull and themselves, making their bodies twitch and convulse uncontrollably.

Suddenly, the infuriating mecha fired its own drill cannon at something. The three SeeDs heard the blast make contact with something soft, as well as shouts from people with Balambian accents.

"Oh shit," Zell shouted, and he forced himself up to sitting position and pulled hard on the E-brake with all his might. He heard the agonizing sounds of metal on metal and could smell the electrical sparks burning on the pavement, yet the fucking vessel refused to stop. The mecha fired another drill blast, and another soft fleshy hit was heard.

A distinct click-click of a familiar chamber was heard, and all three SeeDs didn't have to look outside to find the source. Seconds later, the mecha was hit on the side by what felt like a rocket. The three of them were rocked backwards, and the clumsy vessel lost both its tracking legs and fell over on its side.

"Squall! Stop firing! It's us!!!" Zell shouted at the top of his lungs.

A frivolous effort. They couldn't be heard that well.

Irvine used his foot and jammed as hard as he could. The hatch gave way just a little bit, and Zell slammed his shoulder at full force and caved straight through.

And the incredible sight of the gunblader came into full view.

* * *

"What... the... hell?" Squall asked slowly, his gunblade hanging loosely by his side.

Rinoa and Quistis ran up to both sides of him and gaped in awe as the mangled and bruised bodies of Selphie, Zell, and Irvine fell out of the hatch of the thoroughly destroyed mecha vessel.

"Squally Leonhart!!!" Selphie yelled in her cheerful, bubbly voice. "It's been so long!"

"Hell yeah!!" Zell said, cheerfully fist-pumping the air before losing his balance and falling against the side of the vessel.

Irvine just retrieved his fedora, placed it cooly on his burnt hair, and gave Squall a thumbs-up.

The scar-faced man sheathed the Flame Sabre and took two steps forward. The stern, acrimonious regiment he normally kept vanished. His blue eyes burned with a fiery passion that startled the three before him and the two girls behind him.

"You're alive."

Selphie looked at him in awe, but he continued onward. "Selphie, Irvine, Zell. It is really great to see you guys. As you can see," he gestured behind him, "we like to create ruckuses."

The three of them gazed around at the carnage of Fisherman's Horizon but were awestruck that the civilians were already hard at work repairing the damages. The damned Galbadians had pretty much left the area in disgrace.

"Heh heh," Irvine laughed, "The Galbadians were always fearful fighters."

"Squall!" Zell said, straightening up again, "What happened to Garden?"

Squall breathed inwardly, remembering the hectic four days that had passed. He then pointed off to the northeast. "She lies over there. There's a small hole in her aft side, but that's currently getting worked on at that moment."

"What!?!" Zell shouted with an exuberance never before seen. He stumbled past the Squad Leader and looked out clumsily across the span of the bridge. There she layed, her crest peaking above the small skyscrapers of the outer FH suburb. "Thank Eden."

"My goodness," Irvine said coming up to meet him, "that is a pleasant sight."

"I told you," Selphie shouted, "didn't I tell him, Zell!"

"You sure did, Selph."

"I told Irvy the Garden would be safe," she said to Squall. "Not even the emergency dispatch could stop you guys from saving the day!"

"How'd you do it?" Irvine asked.

"Pure fucking luck," Squall said blandly.

Irvine laughed. "Seriously."

"I'm not kidding. First of all, we get there and the whole place has erupted into a civil war with the Guardians corraling a whole bunch of students behind this weird Shumi Garden Master. We subdued the crowd, went into the basement area, and made the Garden float above the ground."

"Float?"

"Above the ground?" Zell asked.

"Yes, it floats. It doesn't fly. It apparantly swims, too, I haven't the faintest fucking clue. Anyway, we also confronted the Garden Master and... kind of killed him in the process."

"Kind of?"

"Isn't that against--" Selphie started.

"On a lot of levels," Squall finished for her. "But the GM committed a coup de tat in the first place. Both situations cancelled each other out. The matter was solved."

The three SeeDs decided not to pursue the matter further.

Squall continued. "We drifted across the sea southwards unable to control the Garden and we crashed here in this city. Had a terse convesation with the mayor, and then Galbadia attacked. They seem to have done one of their routine sacrifice runs looking for this girl named Ellone. We fought them, won, and now here you all come in. And that's pretty much it."

"Wonderful monotone explanation, Mr. Squall," Quistis teased behind him.

"That's our Squall," Zell said cheerfully. "Thank Eden nothing's changed too much!"

The three battered SeeDs laughed at the remark and then settled into a warm silence with Squall, Rinoa, and Quistis joining in.

The Squad Leader took another step forward. "What happened? Why are you guys in a Galbadian tank?"

Irvine, Zell, and Selphie exchanged fatigued looks.

"Squall," Quistis said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "let's save that for later. It's time to monitor the progress of Garden."

_I guess._ He nodded slowly, a smile on his face, and turned to the two girls behind him. "Escort them back to the Garden. I need to talk to the Mayor for a second."

Quistis stole a glance at the dishelved figurehead sitting Indian-style over by a trash can, gingerly caressing his chin. "Oh... right. Well, then, come on you all." She and Rinoa walked away with the three battered SeeDs in tow.

He watched his friends go and felt an extraordinary compassion rift through him. A feeling he found familiar and foreign. A long-awaited necessity.

He turned to the Mayor, the hapless Dobe who knew the young man was watching him but continued to look away instead. Squall slowly walked up to him and kneeled down to his side. Dobe attempted to scootch away, but every movement hurt his jaw a bit. Squall sighed, "I'm sorry, there was nothing else I could do."

"This... wouldn't have happened.. if you hadn't come here," the Mayor said softly.

"You're wrong. You heard what that commander said."

The Mayor looked at the broken heap that was the commander originally.

Squall continued. "I'm sorry that this was how I was raised. Sometimes, I do have the longing to be raised in a peaceful environment. There's a lot of serenity here that tugs at a man's heartstrings." He saw Dobe look at him curiously. "Yet, I think we need both speakers of peace and speakers of sword to survive in this life. It's not healthy to have a fully peaceful world and a fully battled world. You need both." He stopped to picture a scenario like a fully peaceful world and scrunched up his nose. _Too fucking boring._ "Anyway, I want to tell you that we, as Balambians, are deeply sorry for all this trouble."

"..... We, as FHers, accept your apology."

Squall nodded his head and stood up and turned around.

A flash of blue stunned his eyes in the light, as the silly blue cloak of Rinoa's billowed in the breeze behind her. She was standing at the top of the steps near the walkway leading into the inner city. He thought she looked radiant in the light, but he was more than curious as to why she stayed behind. He walked up to her.

She watched him approach and started first. "You are just full of surprises."

He came to the same level as her and looked down into her deep green eyes. "Full, eh?"

"Heh, yes. You looked and sounded so happy to see them. The first time I've seen you so honest... and.. caring."

_Very strange._

"It was actually... really sweet." She tilted her head to the side and seemed to be thinking up something teasing.

He suddenly felt put on the spot. _Uh... what is she getting at? I felt responsible for them, that's all. .....is that right?....I was really glad to see them, that part is true. .... But... maybe._ He could tell he was squirming around, judging by her teasing smile. He snorted. "They were my responsibility. I felt compelled to worry about their saftey. Nothing more than that."

She said nothing. Only a smile, turning ever so slightly slyer, remained on her face. "Is that all?" she said, in a lilting voice.

_Jeezum-crow._

"Hm. Well, okay. It's great that everyone's alright."

He knew she was etching at him.

She turned around slowly, her hair slowly catching up to her, and started walking back to the city. She turned her head slightly behind her and called back, "Catch you later, Squall."

He watched her go and felt a little queasy inside. _Or was it a different feeling?_ He scratched the back of his head vigorously and continued up the path into the city.

* * *

He was deftly surprised at the work ethic of the residents of Fisherman's Horizons. He had read stories about the famous Estharian engineers, but haven't actually seen one he felt compelled to call the FH workman the best in the world. They had pretty much grafted the entire outer city back to its original state of being. Parts of the bridge were still a little loose, and some extra maintenance would have to be brought in from the continent to fix the support beam; otherwise, the city was being refurbished at an astonishing rate.

He entered the Outer City and found all the shops and stores back open for business and several hundred people milling about. Some looked at him with happy expressions, while others gave him a wide berth. Most of the residents were concentrated around one of the dock piers sending off several caskets of deceased FHers who perished in the fighting. A sermon was heard drolling on in the distance with several priests conflating towards Shiva, Siren, Phoenix, and an overarching praise towards Eden. Squall hurried on his way in order to get the lulling voices out of his ears.

A scantilly-clad woman and a drunk homeless man were seated at the footsteps of the pub and engaged in an interesting conversation involving stillettos, toe jam, and a half-eaten mouse. Since the drunk was slurring every third word and the prostitute had a hole in her throat from the chain-smoking cigarettes she had in both hands, Squall couldn't tell what the fuck they were talking about, and he gave them a wide berth.

Something interesting was going down at the docks on the far northern end. A young kid was fishing... er.. attempting to fish out on a small boat. As Squall drew nearer, he noticed the kid gave a very wide arc with his thrust, and as the rod flew the cord within it flapped swiftly behind him and snaked itself around a shopowner's neck. The kid, unaware, continued to tug hard at the fishing rod thinking he had snagged a fish! The shopowner was lifted off his feet, and Squall saw his face turning blue.

The gunblader ran across the dock as fast as he could and yelled at the kid to stop pulling. The kid looked at him dumbfounded as Squall cut the rope with one swift swipe of his sword. The shopowner fell to the ground with a thin cut across his neck. Squall helped him up to a sitting position and held his chest and back, as the middle-aged man began a coughing fit.

"Whoa..." the kid said innocently, "that was waaaay cool."

The shopowner heard the response and heaved himself up Squall's support. "Great Eden!!!" he yelled. "That is it! I have had enough! You almost got me killed! You..." Something unintelligible, but definitely not kid-friendly, came out of the man's mouth.

"Holy shit," Squall said, "what do we got here?"

"Young man, I thank you for saving my life. This little dingbat here shows off with his rod way too much."

Squall caught a faint whiff of a nasty joke off that statement, but he kept his composure. "Is he trying to learn how to fish?"

"Mister," the kid said in a nasally voice, picking up a second rod in his boat, "I already know how to fish. Watch this."

"Oh no no no no," the shopowner cried.

"HUAH!!" the kid yelled, and away went the rope. The end of the line whipped back again and smashed a window in the shopowner's store.

"Gadzooks," the man cried, holding his head in his hands.

"Goodness," the kid said," why does my line keep going back like that?"

"That's because you're using too much force on your aim," an old voice said behind them.

The three of them looked and beheld an old man with a gold-tipped fishing rod walking slowly up to meet them. A quaint and quiet face etched with serious features was collapsed under a bright white derby. He wore a green and purple checkered sweater and denim pants with brown sneakers.

The shopowner breathed a sigh of relief, and the young kid gasped, "The Master Fisherman!!!"

"Young lad," he said to the kid, "concentrate your aim and don't pull back so hard."

"My dear sir," the shopowner asked, "I think this little one has done quite enough for today."

"He hasn't done much today I think."

"One of his aims snagged around my neck," he exclaimed indicating his scar.

"That's because you were in the way," he chuckled, gathering some snuff in his hand and applying the black tar expertly in his lower jaw.

The shopowner sighed, and the kid jumped up and down in his boat. "Alright," he yelled, "time for me to get serious."

Squall felt ready to walk away from the scene, but he saw the Master Fisherman's eyes grow stony on him, and he knew he was going to have a talk with the King of Fishers in a minute. He saw the kid lean inward slightly and then fling his rod out in a slick fashion. The shopowner crouched low to the ground and braced for impact.

~splash~

The blue-tipped end lay comfortably in the water, the shrimp bait enticingly capturing a few cod already on the prowl.

"See?" the Master Fisherman said, "Nothing to it."

"Ha ha ha, I'm perfection!!" the kid yelled, dancing around so much that he rocked the boat over and fell into the icy water, losing his rod.

"Oh thank Eden," the shopowner said to himself, walking slowly back to his shop to repair the broken window.

The Master Fisherman chuckled at his pupil and then turned to Squall. His eyes narrowed a bit. "You're part of the Garden staff, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Well, at least not that many people were hurt in this whole debacle. More so on the Galbadian's side, but that's to be expected."

Squall couldn't suppress a smile on that.

The Master Fisherman started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"I can already tell from your demeanor. You're not much of a talkative man. Or one with a big sense of humor. A little, perhaps, but not much."

"And?"

"Exactly my point. Social skills are not your cup of tea."

Squall felt the uncontrollable irritation hit him broadside, and the more he felt it the more the old fisherman laughed some more. "Come, boy, let's walk to the inn for a drink."

"Why?"

"Because, boy, I need to tell you something."

"Stop calling me boy."

"Boy, only a boy says 'stop calling me a boy', you know."

Squall stared down with a glare at the Master Fisherman, but the codger didn't feel at all perplexed. He turned and walked slowly away from the docks. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Squall followed him, and they walked towards the inn, which was near the seedy pub.

The prostitute was standing near the entrance, but the Master Fisherman shooed her away, and she hobbled off down the path. They entered and he hailed old man Williams to get two pints of liquor from the back.

"I'm not much into a drink right now," Squall said.

"Nonsense, boy," the Master Fisherman chortled, "only a boy cannot handle a pint of Charle Wicker."

Squall felt his stomach collapse. Charlie Wicker was the world's strongest rum, and he knew it was going to taste like shit. He put his hands in his pockets and was surprised to feel Ifrit's fiery touch. A strange thought occurred to him, and it seemed the Fire God heard his call. He felt his stomach grow tougher and protected, and he felt sure the rum would not harm it. Not too much, at least.

The pints came, and the two men sat at a disjointed table. The rum juice was seeping over the brim, and the Master Fisherman was licking his lips. They clinked their glasses and both drank a deep gulp. The splash of alcohol smelled and tasted horrible, but Squall's stomach felt not a twinge of hurt. The Master Fisherman gave a start at first, but upon seeing the gunblader's stature his eyes grew alit.

"Ho ho, we've got something here."

"Is this a test of skill or something?"

"It's a test to get you to calm the fuck down, boy," the Master Fisherman chortled. "You're getting there, I think."

Squall stole a peek at his watch. The time was getting late in the day. "You want to talk to me about something, I can tell."

"Indeed. Willie," he called to the barkeep.

"What?" came the deep-throated bellow.

"Throw down that screen, will ye?"

The barkeep burped once and brought down the screen. A flicker from a camera switched on, and a figure dressed in eloquent green and white robes was seen standing in a large auditorium in front of hundreds of people.

"Old man Dobe in his prime," the Master Fisherman said.

"The Mayor?" Squall asked. The man in the footage was considerably younger than the figure he had met earlier.

"Yes, in his Esthar outfit back in the Sorceress War days."

The man in the footage seemed younger, but the message escaping his lips was the same. "_Why turn our attention to military affairs, ladies and gentlemen of this magnificent Cloture? We are faced with the task of confronting the world's most hedonous creature, yet She is nothing more than a sprite. An incapacitated demon that relies on the bodies of men to do her bidding. One diplomatic synapse, and the entire realm of Adel falls to the wayside. Why bother with the tanks? The missiles? The boots? Why?_

_ "Your opinion for war is justified in your minds, but only on the basis of false hope. Only on the basis of frugal platitudes. I challenge you all to look deeper. Get in contact with each of Her Knights. Challenge the warlords who hold the Froth and Deroth provinces captive. Challenge them to relinquish their demands on the basis of a common bond as men and as people. The fight with the sword solves nothing except adding more swords to the field. Talk is not cheap. Words move mountains, while swords disentigrate into the earth. I humbly implore you to beseech my words and use them to your advantage, ladies and gentlemen of this magnificent Cloture."_

The Master Fisherman smiled at the remembrance of those years. He saw in his inner vision, the Dobe man standing high on that pedestal, and he remembered with a vivid clearness the reactions of the crowd he addressed. "Hm. He was a true rebel in that city. He put himself on the line to challenge the aggressive nature of the Estharian authorities." He looked at Squall's face, who seemed to be concentrating on the entangled and crestfallen green-clad Dobe. "You know about Esthar, right?"

Squall looked at him. "That metropolis just east of here?"

"Right. A wonderland, you could say. I wish I could tell why it seems lost to the world now, but there is some mighty strong equipment circulating around there. So secretive. I have absolutely no idea what it is, and I wish I knew more. We keep getting engineers from there, though, that is why this city can rebuild itself so swiftly after a hurricane or an ambush like what these Galbadians have done."

Dobe in the footage was being sideswiped by Estharian police, and Squall watched as one of the leuitenants punched him square in the jaw. Squall figured Dobe was quite used to pain in his life. A group of thirteen officers manhandled him down to the floor, admist cheers from the audience. The officers tasered him, and beat his back, his head, and one placed a swift and hard kick to his balls. Dobe coughed up blood and accidentally bit his tongue, provoking a slight seizure. The officers shouted something obscene at that and tasered him once more, before dragging him off the podium.

Squall felt a small rage erupt inside him.

"Dobe," the Master Fisherman started again, finishing the last of his pint, "was an engineer back in the day. He, like me, is far too old now to take up the work once more. When both of us lived in Esthar, we were on the same construction team. There were hundreds of us in those divisions. We wished to build the Esthar of our dreams. A city that all other cities could look upon and admire and befriend. A city that looked out for other cities and provoked no one. Yet, somewhere along the line, things like succubi, power-grabs, and a million other things botched the whole get-up, and folks like us fled in droves. I and several other people did the unthinkable and broke into the city police station, rescuing Dobe in the process and getting the hell out of Dodge."

The Master Fisherman recalled all the details and smiled delightfully to himself. "Thousands of us left and walked this very bridge. We saw how peaceful the center region was, and we decided to build our iconic dreamland here. The world's finest engineers constructed what most said couldn't be constructed. We did it. We did it. And most of our predictions about a city that helps other cities and provokes no one has mostly been kept in tact. Dobe, still, was reluctant to leave even after we busted him out of jail. He still to this day desires to return to Esthar and to rebuild the pleasure palace it most probably is into something more definite and sincere. I relish that thought and I actually hope that happens."

"But," Squall said, "no one knows what it looks like."

"I have a hunch. I've seen the blueprints."

Squall said nothing to that.

"Diplomacy is all that Dobe knows. I admire the man for that. I mean, I used violence to break him out, and he scolded me for that. Yet, I saw no other way. I believe you and I are quite the same on that aspect. You have not walked away from this lecture, so I assume you have a bit of a caring bug in that fighter's stature in you. See, that's the key I think to a healthy persona. You keep your rough edge, but you let yourself go every once in a while. I think you have that in you, young man, if you can only see it yourself."

Squall and the Master Fisherman shared an exhange of looks, and both left the table at the same time. Squall followed the old man out and for the first time took in the city of FH with a different light. It was more than just peaceful, it was a symbol of hope that touched everything in its wake. A story of pain and frustration that ultimately ended in a boon for the citizens of the world itself.

"Why is this place named Fisherman's Horizon?"

"I named it, that's why."

"Huh. Is it because you were fishing for hope on a distant horizon?"

The old man stopped and looked at him for a second. "Uh... well.. yeah, that's exactly what I named it for."

Squall stared at him for a minute. "You don't know why you named it FH, do you?"

"Nah. It's just a name that caught on."

Squall nodded. "It is kind of catchy."

"You're a perceptive young lad, boy. We need more young people like you." He spat a dip of snuff onto the ground and stared off into the afternoon sky. "What is your name, so I can stop calling you 'boy'".

"Squall, sir. Squall Leonhart."

The Master Fisherman turned and looked him square in the eye. "Squall, it looks like a long journey ahead for you. Make sure to smile every once in a while. And take it easy."

Squall only returned the look, and the Master Fisherman whirled around and walked back to his house away off in the farthest southern region.


	19. Commander

**Disclaimer:** Special song owned by Square Soft and sung by Faye Wong. It is beautiful when played and sung in real life.

_A new appointment_

_A night to last forever_

_The Ice starts to melt_

Fisherman's Horizon, whatever the context of the specifics of the name itself, was a beautiful place and a place of great significance. The Master Fisherman was not just some crazy old coot with a fishing rod and an old-fashioned derby. Squall Leonhart believed the old man had actually been trying to find the young SeeD's heart. He doubted himself, walking along the pier against the glare of the setting Sun, that _he_ even could find the pulsing organ.

_Make sure to smile every once in a while. And take it easy._

He stopped in a small nook of the bridge. Even after a good respite since the eventful four days had passed him by, he still felt drained and his tendons seemed tight and stressed. The Flame Sabre seemed ready to break apart, too; and he realized the problem immediately. In his late night blacksmith skills, he had failed to properly inspect one area of the chamber, thus overlooking the loose screws. He scratched the back of his head and resorted back to silence, that indefatigable comfort zone he had grown so accustomed to for the past seventeen years. The bastion he had holed himself in for far too long.

He had a fleeting thought.....

_Nah. Too much to change from._

He took in the lapping sea waters, gently smacking against the support columns of the mighty span of bridge, and saw out in the distance a white ship approaching. Nothing too fancy, but he couldn't stop looking at it.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned to view the newcomer.

"Howdy, partner," the drolling voice of the cowboy lulled out. He had changed his dusty overcoat in a rapid hurry, but his face still looked taut and stressed. Squall could only imagine the hectic events his three party members had faced out in the desert. All six of them should have been in their beds at the moment. The Sun was ending its flaming course through the sky, and the time was ripe to catch some shut-eye.

"You should be getting some sleep. You'll need it."

"Squall, Squall, Squall, don't be a nagging hootenanny now."

"A what?"

"A term of endearment. But, man, I could stay up for days."

"You look like you just did."

Irvine twisted his mouth a bit, recalling his little adventures. "Probably right on that. Seeing as that's the case, I guess I'll stay up for a few more."

Squall stole another glance out to sea and noticed more of the white ship's bow coming closer.

Irvine leaned back slightly and let out some "oohs" and "ahhs" as he cracked his back hard. "Man, oh man. What a wild time."

Squall felt the cowboy had some little spiel to get off his chest. He sighed both loudly and inwardly. He didn't mind being around the others, but all five of them seemed to really piss him off sometimes. "You're here for something, right?"

"Damn, Mr. Leader. You say that like you don't want to know."

"Depends on what it is."

"Tough guy, eh? Well, it is quite an important thing actually."

"Then, I'm all ears."

Irvine laughed and stood proudly with one hand firmly on his hip. "The Galbadian Bulldogs thoroughly squashed the Deling Hornets in the futbol match this weekend!"

Squall cocked an annoyed eyebrow at the fedora prettyboy.

The cowboy couldn't hold back another gut-bursting laugh. "Heh, you're good to have around, Squall. Seriously, though, not only have the FHers here almost restored their city back to its brilliance, the Headmaster gave the OK to have them fix our ship. They're in the Garden right now, and...damn heh... they are like the most magnificent engineers I've ever seen!"

Squall raised both his eyebrows and nodded knowingly. "They're from Esthar."

"How do you know that?"

"I talked to one of them. It was worth the time, I guess."

"Well, I'll be. That explains a lot. Well, they're sure fixing up everything. Some SeeD of y'alls though is sort of commanding the whole restoration thing. Some fruity little sprite...uh... Nida or something."

Squall was on the verge of chuckling, but he gave that effort up eliciting a perplexed but knowing response from Irvine. The gunblader stole another glance out to sea and became more irritated at the approaching ship; he noticed what looked like a Deling symbol on its aft side. "Well, that's good to hear, I guess."

"Of course it is."

Squall sighed inwardly again. "What else?"

"I was wondering about something. It'll take a day to do, though, but they should be finished by the night."

"What?"

"The technicians here seem, again, very handy. Would you mind if they worked on something else that would prove beneficial for us?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Cid saw us five at the entrance to the Garden, and he wanted me to ask you about it."

Squall again raised an eyebrow at him.

"It would be beneficial," Irvine repeated, with a little gleam in his eye.

"I don't know why he told you to tell me, but as long it doesn't affect the mission then I really don't care what it is. Go on ahead."

Irvine stopped another rising bit of laughter and merely nodded his head. He remained standing where he was, though, and waited for the eventual irritance that would consume Squall Leonhart once more. It took a bit longer, but as soon as the eyebrow went up again, he started, "Selphie's feeling a little down, too, by the way."

".......And?"

"Oh come on, now, that's just cold-hearted."

Squall just looked at him for a bit. "Alright, I'm sorry. What's got her down?"

"Hmmm... a little more seriousness, and you'd be able to show some sympathy. I thought I should let you know, considering you're like... everyone's leader... or something."

"Don't push the envelope so far now, Irvine."

"Why not? That's what everybody thinks."

"I'm not gonna get into that conversation."

"Well, anyway, I think you should go to talk to her. Heh, socially you're a klutz, so when you're ready come see me, and we'll go together. She looks ready to just cut that smile right off of her face."

Squall gave a short sigh. "Where is she?"

"In the Quad."

"Hm. Fine, before I go to bed tonight. We'll go there together."

"Good. She should be there all night."

A loud blare sounded from the Deling ship which was only minutes away from docking at the city's thirteenth port.

"Damn it all," Irvine said, "is that a Westonian ship?"

"Yes," Squall said with the same irritation, "I've been watching it sneak up here ever since you first came up here. It looks to be a DelWitzer class."

"Hmph. From straight out the pike of Deling City, huh?"

"Yup."

More footsteps came from behind them, and they turned to see Quistis and Xu approach them. Xu was the first to speak. "Squall, the Headmaster received a call from the Operation Specialists aboard this vessel. General Rafeal Carroway is in the brig, and he wishes to speak with a handful of Balamb residents immediately."

Irvine gritted his teeth, and Squall was at a loss of words. The Deling ship gave another loud blare of its horns and scuttled the dock ropes around its rooks. Ten minutes of docking procedure passed, before the Deling sailors lowered the drawbridge onto the pier.

"Squall," Quistis asked, "who do you think should be in the meeting with the General?"

"Isn't that something Cid should deal with?"

"Headmaster has requested logistical duties should come from your best judgment."

Squall stole a glance at Irvine and grew more irritated at the _I-told-you-so_ expression. He looked at Xu who gave him a look almost akin to jealousy. Well, he certainly would have wanted her to handle this job instead of himself. Of course, that was not going to happen. He returned back to Quistis. "Well, the obvious looks like Cid and the General to me. And I guess myself." He looked at the three of them once more. "I.... I don't quite feel comfortable hanging around this guy, since he got us all stuck in the prison for a plan doomed to fail."

"Yes," the former instructor said," that's partly what he wants to talk about."

"Hmph," Irvine said, "we should tell him to shove it up his ass."

"Afterwards," Squall said. "Plus... if you all are on the same page as me... I don't think Rinoa should be in the same room as us."

The three of them pondered that and nodded. The former resistance leader would probably be more than a handful in this predicament.

"Zell is in the Infirmary, getting treatment done on his facial wound," Quistis continued. "Dr. Kadowaki said the wound was infected and that the bone was impacted. Her staff is working overtime to assist him, but I think he'll be alright. He keeps fist-pumping the air and saying he's all cheery and everything."

"Putz," Irvine joked.

Quistis stifled a bit of laughter and added, "I'm sure Irvine told you, but Selphie's a little distraught about her wrecked stage and--" she caught Irvine's eye, "--and she is also a bit tired. She'll probably be in bed in the next hour."

Squall nodded, although he could tell something was up. The foreign accents of the Delingers were unfortunately ringing louder into his ear, and he turned to see a couple officers salute their subordinates and their flag before descending the ship and walking as solemnly and professionally as they could. The gunblader stood up and out of the comfy nook of the bridge and walked towards them, his three friends in tow.

Crowds of FHers stopped what they were doing to watch the two country's military brass meet each other in the shadow of the DelWitzer-grade ship. The senior-ranking Delinger, a colonel, clicked his heels to a stop and did the Delinger salute-- a tap on the forehead. Squall stood at attention and brought his fisted right hand up to his right eye and then shook the colonel's outstretched hand.

"Colonel Whigham, at your service, sir--"

"Leonhart, Squall Leonhart. SeeD Class 25, Col. Whigham."

"The same level as me, sir."

"Your General has wished to speak with Headmaster Cid?"

"And you, Mr. Leonhart. You were at the top of his priority list. We have... also.. come to bring official breaking news on the western continent about Galbadia. We also wish to offer our apologies to Balamb Garden and to the people of Fisherman's Horizon for having a part of Westonia do open armed conflagration on sovereign and peaceful territory."

"The figurehead of this town, Mayor Dobe, is in a bit of physical trouble. One of the high-ranking Galbadian soldiers did a number on his jaw. He will be recovering for quite a while."

"Damn. Was there another figurehead... for the Outer City?"

"Uh..." Squall looked at Quistis.

"Yes, Colonel," she said, extending a hand to which Whigham generously shook it. "Trepe. Quistis Trepe, SeeD Class 24. I believe the other mayor's name was West."

"Aye, West, the capitalist. The one who's probably hiding in his penthouse as we speak. Very well, my dear, the General and I will talk to West once we are through talking to Mr. Kramer and Mr. Leonhart inside the Garden of Balamb." He looked at Squall. "If that is okay with you, sir?"

Squall's eye was distracted by the figure coming off the drawbridge, and Colonel Whigham looked behind him and smiled. "Aye, General sir, our priority was already on the deck, sir."

Rafeal Carroway nodded in Whigham's direction and slowly walked up to a stern-faced Squall and an equally-stern-faced Irvine. The girls were the first to salute, followed by the reluctant men. Carroway clicked his heels to a halt in front of Squall and gave them "at ease". He then sighed long and hard and looked at the floor. "Hmph," he muttered. "At least Rinoa isn't here."

"Actually, sir, she's inside the Garden," Squall corrected.

"Son of a bitch."

"I don't mean to be rude, General, but are you here for a particularly good reason? Or are you here to make our lives another living hell?"

Carroway looked up in alarm at first but rather remarkably retreated into a fortified shell of himself. Quistis, Xu, Whigham, and even Irvine looked at Squall in total shock. Squall, though, grew visibly irate. He took off his leather jacket and lifted up his undershirt. "I know you don't know Seifer Almasy by nature, but Edea's Knight took his sweet pleasure to carve my body up like a jack o lantern. Your country's underlings electrified my skin to the point of unrecognizablilty. I would've never seen my compatriots nor this Garden again, if it hadn't been for those Moombas."

Carroway remained silent and morose. The thin murky lines of impacted blood vessels on Squall's chest and stomach mixed with splotchy bruises and cuts that were still slowly healing back together. The General hadn't been this queasy looking at something since his time on Estharian land when the Battle of Dylan Fields was transpiring.

"So," Squall continued, "with all due respect, why should I give a fuck about what you say?"

New footsteps sounded behind them, and Squall knew without even looking that they belonged to Cid Kramer. "Everything will be alright, Squall. I won't let anyone create any duress on my watch. We've already had four days of that thus far."

Squall hesitated for a moment, before pulling down his shirt and applying his coat back on.

Carroway straightened up to a more diplomatic stance and gave a crooked smile to Cid. "Pleasure to meet you again, sir."

The old frame of Cid Kramer returned a crooked smile. "Will you come aboard our ship for a little while?"

"I'd love to."

* * *

A medical drill popped open revealing a bright red laserpoint, and a burning smell erupted all over Zell Dincht's cheek. Doctor Kadowaki sat in her rolling chair with an upright precision so steady that she looked like a statue. The brawler's right side of his face was numbed to the core, and his neck was aching from all the restoring injections pumped into his face. His jawbone had begun to form cysts from the massive burn injury he had received at the missile base, and four days of not curing the wound had caused some heavy problems.

Yet Kadowaki was determined, and in all her thirty years of medical work, she had never lost a patient.

Plus, she wasn't alone. The pig-tailed girl from the library had volunteered to help. Kadowaki felt there was more at play than let out, since the young girl seemed really enthusiastic about helping. Zell picked up on it, too, for once in his life; and the funnier thing was he was quite interested in all the attention.

At the moment, though, he was fighting hard to keep his cool with her staring at him as the good doctor began vigorously removing all the loose rotten flesh on his face. The point of the laser hit over a particularly soft spot. "Ah! Damn, that's sore."

"Easy now, Zelly," Kadowaki soothed. "You've got a terrible infection on your cheekbone. Things like this are gonna sting a bit."

"Is it _too_ bad?" the girl with pig tails asked, worry in her eyes.

Kadowaki held gauze in one hand against Zell's cheek and used her other hand to pick up a hypodermic needle. "No. No, not too bad at all, my dear."

The girl couldn't hold back a smile. "That's good. Having... four of our best SeeDs down with injuries would be a bad thing to have."

"Yes, of course. It seems that these four, though, can stand up to anything."

"Of cours--ow!" Zell started to cheer but rubbed up against the pressured gauze. "Nothing can get us down."

Kadowaki admired but secretly rolled her eyes at the two young people giving each other those early-stage flirting moves. Zell was a goofball, and this pigtail girl (she cursed herself for not knowing her name!) was very, very shy at times. What a weird match-up this would be.

An hour later, his wound had been stitched up with the dried blood wiped away and some cream applied against the infection spread. He would have a scar there for about a month. Well, he didn't seem to mind that a bit.

Especially since he was at the Cafeteria... when he knew he should have been in bed resting for the night. And.. of course.. there was a plate of hot dogs in front of him, all steaming and freshly hot with their... er.. whatever the hell's inside them... leaking out both ends.

Ah, the smell.

He had forgotten all about them, and the thought of that almost scared him so bad that he couldn't eat at first. How long had it been? He tried counting. The Timber mission which was a couple of days. Then G-Garden, the tomb and Deling City. That was another two days. Then the month-long prison sentence. Then the four-day separation mission. _Damn,_ he thought_ about a month and a half. Way way way too long!_ He immediately went to town on the fattest dog.

Normally, he blocked out everyone around him when he was eating the dogs. In fact, he kind of blocked out everyone _all_ the time with everything he did. Except this time.

A pink purse dropped in the chair beside him, and he turned slowly to see two snow-white legs fitted in white high heels and wrapped up top in a white mini-skirt. The pretty girl was wearing a white V-neck blouse and showing off a very pretty heart-shaped necklace fitted between two ripe melons. She had let her pigtails go away, and her dark brown hair was thick and flowing and draped atop her shoulders like a waterfall. He hardly noticed the loose piece of meat hanging on his lower lip.

She smiled just the same as she always did and reached over to shoo it away. She sat down all prim and proper, and he started to get butterflies in his stomach. It wasn't everyday that this kind of thing happened, and he really only thought about her occasionally.

But... when he did.. he couldn't get her out of his mind.

She had rehearsed it in her mind beforehand, but she was at a loss for words, as well. She rapped the table a bit, cleared her throat, and found her voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, m-much better." He took a sip of his drink. "She does real good work."

"I know. I'm so glad the Headmaster had hired her instead of that creepy doctor in Balamb."

"Oh.... Bingham?"

"Yeah, the one with the glasses."

"Ohhhh.." he remembered the ugly mole man, and the way he slurred all the "s" sounds like a lecherous pedophile. "Very creepy, yeah. Y'know I heard he's still practing medicine down there."

"The world is a strange place."

"Tell me about it."

Their eyes met briefly, before straying again. She curled some of her thick hair resting on her left shoulder. "Forgive me for introducing myself so late. I-I didn't know how at f-first."

Zell shook his head. "Oh. No problem. No problem at all. Uh..." he clumsily stuck out his hand. "Zell, heh, Zell Dincht. Martial arts extraordinaire."

She giggled, accepting his hand in a warm shake. "Milena. Milena Chabert. Master librarian."

"Now, you have a cool job."

"Not really," she said, smiling. "I just put books back on the shelf and order some new volumes."

He laughed at that and thought about his limited times spent in that facility collecting fighting magazines. How many times had ample opportunities like this one passed him by? "Milena, huh? That's a really pretty name."

"Thank you. My friends like to call me 'Mila'. Like the Trabian flower."

"Would you like me to call you that?"

"That would be perfect," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

He felt a big knot in his stomach, and he felt his cheeks redden. The sore on his cheek stinged at the rising temperature, but he felt sort of attracted by that. "Well, alright then, Mila. Weren't you in our SeeD unit?"

"I was. Until the inventory librarian was killed in that... accident, remember?"

"...Ben? From Squad L?"

"Yeah. He went to the Fire Cavern to pick up some rock samples to showcase in our auditorium. Never came back."

"I remember that."

"Besides knowing that... I'm glad I left the SeeD unit. I get so nervous around battles and fighting."

"Ohhhh..." Zell said, his knot growing stronger. That didn't sound good at all.

She apparantly realized that, too. "Oh for me. I'm not much of a fighter at all. Did Squall tell you about what happened four days ago?"

"When the missiles attacked?"

"Yes. It happened just before he made the Garden mobile."

"Briefly, I was in kind of too much pain to stay there with him awhile."

"A kind of civil war broke out between the SeeDs here, with half of us siding with the Headmaster and the other half siding with the Guardians and the now-deceased Garden Master. The GM students holed up me and some other librarians in the library and threatened to kill us."

Zell widened his eyes. He wasn't expecting all that.

"I was so scared..." she stopped and thought about that, about the feeling of that SeeD guy slapping her face, and the cold press of the knife on her throat. "That feeling of treading death... it's not a feeling that's comfortable for me."

Normally, he would've said he didn't mind it, but seeing her seriousness made him reflect on his situation. "You're right."

She looked at him.

"It's not too comfortable for me sometimes. Like this mission I just came back from."

"Yeah, you guys were gone an awfully long time."

"I know, right. Well, the commander-in-chief of Deling City tricked us into this plan that failed, and the courts threw us in D-District Prison."

She widened her eyes.

"Yeah, I know. That was the first time..." he remembered his endurance against that head guard. "That was the first time I felt uncomfortable about fighting. That was like a fight for survival right there."

"That guy from Deling is here in the Garden right now."

"Wha-- Carroway!! Why?"

"I dunno. He wanted to talk to Squall and the Headmaster."

"Hmm. Hope it's good."

She looked him up and down. "Zell, I.. uh.."

"...What is it?"

"I don't know why, but you've always made me smile. Every time we pass each other, you always act all nice and sweet. The few times we've spoken in class... I just wanted to let you know... I was worried about you on the mission."

Zell caught her eyes and the two held the gaze for longer than they ever did. "Now..." he began slowly, "I think, since all six of us are reunited again, I think Squall will have us go on further missions... but.. uh.. there's no need to worry." He managed a sincere smile. "It'll take a lot to bring me down."

Mila smiled and then laughed sweetly. Zell continued, pressing her hand softly. "If worse comes to worse here, like if the Galbadians do something weird, I'll make sure they don't harm you again."

The dark-haired beauty looked at him for a long time, before giving the warmest and prettiest smile he had ever seen and squeezed his hand.

* * *

The conference room of Headmaster Cid Kramer was a quaint boardroom filled with elegant paintings and carved furniture. A decorated chandelier hung on the ceiling above the round table. The Balamb residents sat on the northern end under the cover of a stained glass window depicting an image of Eden. The Delingers sat on the southern end under the shadow of a large map of the world, showcasing a fancy set of pegs representing the Garden's recent track from the island of Alcauld to the spot in the direct center of the Central Ocean.

Both Cid and Carroway sat flanked by their comrades of descending highest rank, and for a while nothing was said giving the large room a desolate and uneasy silence. A moth was fluttering around the chandelier, and nothing else came to greet it.

Carroway fidgeted. His skin was flushed, and shadows drooped beneath his eyes. He looked considerably older since their last meeting more than a month ago. Was that enough to forgive his decrepit prostrate form before the Sorceress? Pretty much the only thing the damn fool did was return his daughter's dog back to her. Not a word about the botched plan. Not an apology. Squall clenched his fist underneath the table so hard everyone heard his knuckles pop.

Cid patted him on the shoulder and then cracked his own knuckles. "What can we help you with, Rafeal?"

An attendant brought out a tray of drinks, and Carroway took one with a fidgety hand and slowly took a deep sip of the liquid. "For... starters," his voice was rough and shaky. "There is no such thing as Westonia anymore."

Cid cocked an eyebrow. "No more Westonia?"

"That was a product of the worthless Vinzer Deling. His cause is uprooted like the rest of miserable corpse. The continent remains Galbadia and Deling respectfully, thank the miserable excuse for a God." He took another deep sip from his glass, and emptied it sharply down his throat.

Squall scratched his chin, and Cid copied the move. The old man asked, "We know pretty much from NORG that the plan was botched from the beginning. The question now is, why did you willingly put my best SeeDs in harms way and then failed to man up to the act?"

"If I may so, Mr. Headmaster," Colonel Whigham spoke, "this task had to be completed for the sake of the greater cause at hand."

"The greater cause at hand?"

Carroway grunted. "What my subordinate claims.. is that I had no choice in the matter. Edea has her own wishes on how to get things done. I am sure you know that personally."

Cid's eyes seemed to grow dark at that statement. "Edea's wishes are out of my concern at the moment. Either she knows what she is doing, or she is being manipulated against her will. Both of your claims are not sufficient enough. I can understand the actual mission. But why were my SeeDs, as well...as your own daughter... held captive in the world's most foul of all prisons?"

Carroway opened his mouth to try to dispute the accusation, but the mention of Rinoa being held there shut his voice immediately. His throat became parched, and he asked for another drink. Whigham and his officers were at a loss for words. They had seen Squall's scars and did not care to see them once more.

"Plus," said Xu in as firm a voice as she could manage, "the missile launches."

The Delingers looked at her like someone had just slapped them in the face. They apparantly had not planned to talk about that part. She continued, "Please explain. We have a fairly good idea about Edea's plans, but why did she target Trabia first and then Balamb second. Furthermore, why did she target them at all?"

Carroway finished the second glass fast and cleared his throat. "First of all, let me officially give my sincerest apologies to your SeeDs, Mr. Kramer. They, most notably your Squadron Leader, received very nasty scars that will never be healed. Now... why a month? Listen, you can believe me or not, but I could not do _anything_ for a whole month. Mr. Irvine Kinneas, the sharpshooter, as we know was not a resident of your Garden. He was in on the whole plan from the get-go with Martine."

They all looked at the cowboy who nodded his head slowly at the statement.

"But you knew that as well, Cid, and so did NORG."

"That part I do know, yes," Cid said. "Yet, you were intending Irvine here to be a sacrifice for the Sorceress."

"To get my hands clean of the matter. The plan in its original form called for me to take the shot at Edea, but my political stature was on the line. How would that look like to the whole world if I somehow manage to mortally wound her?"

Cid's group looked at him with disgust.

"The assassination failed, and it was no steady secret that her Knight was a tough bastard. I guess there is an apparant and heated rivalry between your Squadron Leader and him--"

"--a very heated rivalry," Quistis broke in, "it goes a long way back."

"Everybody in the city could tell that. I saw from my mansion. It was a fine battle, Squall, but the man is too endowed with her magic. You could bloody him, but he will win in the end."

The gunblader, who was wishing for a cigarette to calm his rising anger, flicked his wrist in an annoyed wave.

Carroway continued, "The police swarmed them instantly, but Irvine managed to get away. Some of the squad wings of my command reported that he bribed part of them to let him pass. He arrived at my study the following morning, and he even met the Sorceress himself. He was deeply upset, and he threatened to expose my hand in the matter to the public. The World Economic Forum at DelWitzer was postponed because of him, and that caused a big rile to flow in the world's governments.

"Edea, in the end, made a deal with me to send him to get my daughter and bring her to the Sorceress's chamber at Galbadia Garden. I in turn would regain control of the Deling City government, and Irvine could go on his merry way."

"Why does she want Rinoa?" Cid asked.

"I have no idea. That was the main thing on her agenda. Yet, Irvine betrayed his part of the bargain and freed your SeeDs instead. Edea's no fool, though. I still cannot believe she knew that he would do that. So, she ordered Deling Kilo to unleash the missiles. I don't know why she targeted Trabia first... maybe to send out a shockwave to the rest of the world.

"Oh shit. What a shockwave it was, too. A grand total of twenty thousand people died up there, and hundreds more died in the dragon forest in their vain attempt to enter Esthar for solace. Hundreds more are being enslaved in Ithius and causing economic strains on the global markets. We've got kind of a humanitarian crisis going on."

"Tell me then," Xu sternly asked," why is it you wait three days after the Trabian strike to allow refugees to enter your city, when thousands perish beforehand?"

"Deling City has a population of six million people in its metropolitan state. The city is overcrowded and short on resources. I'm having a hard time feeding my own citizens let alone immigrants here not on their own free will."

"Pah, pitiful."

"Seifer," Squall said slowly," her.. Knight... claims that Galbadia Garden will go mobile and set out for a SeeD hunt, with him leading the main front. Is this true? If it is, why?"

Carroway gritted his teeth and started rapping the table. "Yes, it is true. The Garden was mobile the night of the missile launches. They went to Dollet Dukedom, but since the city is still in its rebuilding process, they didn't do much. Right now, there at the peninsula city of St. Josefburg looking for two things: SeeDs to kill and a girl named Ellone. Before we reached this port, I got a call from base that said Josefburg has been burnt to the ground."

Cid snorted, and Squall continued to grill. "Ellone. We know who she is, too. A little bit anyway. The Galbadians came in here on a massive armada and threatened to burn this place down, too. We fought them off and killed some two hundred of them by my last count. What in fuck's name do they want with this girl?"

"Ellone is a powerful mystery. This girl is more intriguing to Edea than my daughter is, and Edea does not rest a day without speaking her name once. Ellone has, from what I hear, a special power."

Squall felt an inward presence surround him briefly. He felt for a second that he knew what that power was. Then it was gone.

"Edea runs the Galbadian government, after the... shall we say... resignation...of the Galbadian prime minister. As of the moment, she is allowing me to run Deling affairs, but she has taken over the Deling Guard. As long as I don't act out against her judgment, I won't be... resigned."

Cid's crew did not say a word.

Carroway cleared his throat again. "Galbadia would like to spar once more with Esthar again, considering that neither side won in the Sorceress War two decades ago. That was just a very bloody stalemate. Edea, though, wishes to take things slowly. She's sending entire fleets across the coasts of the western continent looking for Ellone. She decided to see if Fisherman's Horizon contained anything worthwhile. I expect she'll go after Balamb and Trabia next. Just to mop things up, probably."

Squall cracked his knuckles again, causing more surprised looks come his way. "Are we done here?"

Colonel Whigham gave him a nasty look, but he refused to say anything.

Squall cracked his neck. "I respect your apology, Mr. Carroway, about the prison incident. It'll take a lot more than that for Seifer to take me down, but in the meanwhile with your latest spilling of news I believe there should be a peaceful negotiation between our heads of state to give... some alottment for peace in this time of crisis."

"Well put," Cid said, "I second that motion. Rafeal, as far as I can tell, Deling City is on the backburner to Galbadia's aggressive military tactics. I agree, for the time being, Balamb and Deling City be on the same page."

"It will be," Whigham bluntly declared, "a temporary truce."

Whigham's officers and Carroway made no movement at first, and then a very slow nodding of their heads followed.

Quistis cocked an eyebrow. "Why the stipulations?"

"It is a matter of national pride and a matter of history," the colonel rapped out. "Balamb has been a rough patch for our government for centuries, and next to Galbadia a body at war pretty much for a long time."

"Mr. Whigham is right, I'm afraid," Cid said to Quistis. "We've only had a peaceful interlude together since the conclusion of the Sorceress War, when hardly anybody wanted to fight after that debacle."

Everybody nodded their heads at that, and Irvine clapped his hands once. "Well, should we give a day's rest on this, and then work up a plan on attending to the cities of Balamb and Trabia?"

"Sounds like a good plan," Carroway said. "Allow me to leave this port city tonight, and I'll head for Dollet. I heard the Duke has been trying to get in touch with you, Cid."

"Duke Thomas Haydyn, eh? Good, that man has been a good opposition whip in the Parliament. Big-time opponent of the Galbadian government."

"He has managed to restore most of the city following that massive attack two months ago. Half of his army is back and running sharp once more. If the Galbadians rig up a battle, I'm sure we can call up both the Deling Guard and the Dollet Army to fight for you."

Cid nodded his head. "That would be a blessing from Eden, Mr. Carroway. I thank you humbly for coming to see us in this time of need."

Carroway nodded and both men rose and shook hands across the table. Their crews rose up after them, and all filed slowly out of the conference room breathing sighs of relief now that the tension had dissipated.

* * *

The Sun was set, and the temperature had fallen fast. Winter was approaching once more, and even down here in the center of the Central Ocean a cold snap was not uncommon on some nights.

Standing atop the open-air balcony just outside of the Training Center, Squall lit a match and the tip of his FH cigarette. One of those strong nicotine brands the shopkeepers in the Outer City carried. He slowly waved the match out, and sucked in all that harmful tar before letting out a much-needed blast of blue-colored smoke. It was a menthol stick, and he could imagine his lungs being cut up by all the tiny filaments embedded in the paper. Was it a bad thing that he did it, as young as he was? More than likely, but who was going to tell him any differently?

The cowboy was late, anyway, and Squall wanted to get this shit done in the best and most positive light that he could manage. The spunky little go-go girl being all sad and depressed was really none of his business. All of them needed a good night's sleep, so they could hurry on over to Balamb as quickly as possible. If he had heard Quistis right earlier, Selphie was distraught... over a fucking stage?!!

"Hmmm... bullshit," he murmured to himself, sucking in some more tar. He wasn't at all interested in Irvine's "special" idea for the FHers to do some more construction work. This would be a total waste of time.

He put one foot upon the billboard he was resting against and took a look at the vacant Training Center. With all that chaos that took place earlier this week, the area was now devoid of monster life. Nothing inside beckoned any heed from him, since now the Center was a popular walking space for couples to go practice naughty things or the like. The dinosaur den had been gutted to make room for the transformation of Garden into a mobile vessel, and the smell of battle had all been eradicated of its presence. The "Secret Area" had been expanded and now contained a full deck for which to view the surroundings the Garden passed by. Squall was livid but powerless to do anything about it. So much for preparation training just in case the Galbadians did something totally fucking insane.

He got so irritated, he threw his half-smoked cigarette onto the ground only to find Irvine sauntering up in a button-up shirt with the top three buttons open revealing a hairy chest.

"Good fucking Eden, what are you wearing?" Squall cursed, his nose turning up.

"Man, fuck you already, I dress to impress!"

Squall rubbed his forehead vigorously. "Is she still in the Quad?"

"Been there all day. The poor thing."

"Yeah... poor."

Irvine shook his head, a small smile forming on his face. "Come on, man, let's go."

They walked briskly around the southern bend of the loop and then ventured up the western side and hit the Quad's entrance. This had been the impact zone, and the Quad had been the point that had taken the first hit into Fisherman's Horizon. Much of the floor space had cracked open, and at this hour of day a few technicians were still working on repairs. The massive stage that held annual festivals and plays could be seen from the top of the descending platform, and a small figure in a yellow dress could be seen kneeling down at the base.

"She changed earlier, and you all's doctor here patched her up as best she could."

"Yeah, Dr. Kadowaki's a good medic here."

Both of the men descended down into the stage area, and the spunky SeeD immediately hopped up and looked at them both with a surprised stare. The stage was cleaved in two with the roof beams sunk deep into the stage floor and several pews in the audience gallery overturned. The dressing room had been flung about in a heap, and many support columns looked too flimsy to repair.

"Squall, Irvy, hey." Her voice was sad and it made Squall stop thinking for a minute. The tone was just too despondent to ignore. "It looks just bad. I don't know what to say."

Squall stole a glance behind him to Irvine, but the cowboy wasn't doing what he had said he would.

The spunky SeeD, looking anything but spunky at this moment which was unusual, played with a bit of her hair. "Things have been crazy with the missile strikes, the Garden going mobile, crashing into FH."

"Yeah.... a lot has happened."

Selphie stared off into the distance, and Squall had wondered if she had heard him. Presently, though, she responded with a slight chuckle. "I really wanted to see a band perform on this stage at some point. I heard so many things about these performances when I was at Trabia." A small sly smile curved at the edges of her lips. "I even had my eyes set on a few people." She sighed again and kneeled back down to the floor.

Even though he could feel the cowboy's eyes on him, Squall felt a momentary twinge of consoling hit him, and before he knew it his mouth was open. "I'm sure we can make that happen sometime."

She blinked in surprise and looked at him equally so. "Now that's weird. Squall Leonhart being helpful? Hell must've have frozen over!" She said the last sentence with a teasing smile.

He only stared back in silence, which is when Irvine let out the laughter rising inside him and politely moved the gunblader to the side. "What our distinguished captain here is saying--"

"--Wrong word, Irvine," Squall hissed.

"Humbug, Squall. A good captain you are! He's absolutely right, Selphie, I'm positive we can set up a wonderful play here."

A shiny twinkle illuminated her brown eyes. "Really? Do you really think so?"

"I'm sure of it!"

"Hmmph," Squall grunted. When the two of them looked at him, he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm going to go hit the hay, alright. You two take it easy."

"We will, Squall," Irvine said, "you do the same."

Squall shook his head and left the Quad in a silent and perturbed shuffle. When he was sure the man was out of hearing, Irvine burst into a wild bit of laughter that caught Selphie by surprise. "That man's a trip, Selph!"

She giggled. "You're right. I'd like to thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For cheering me up at least. I mean, it doesn't really change the situation much, but I do appreciate the comfort."

"Whatcha talking about? I was for real."

"For real?"

"Yeah, baby, let's get the fun started!"

She raised both her eyebrows and slowly got to her feet. The man in front of her was an amazing spectacle sometimes: physically and emotionally. She remembered the first time she saw him and remembered how unsure her feelings were about him. Since then, many things had happened, and she still wasn't quite sure exactly how she felt. "What fun are you suggesting?"

Irvine, of course, had those intricate male-thoughts run through his head whenever someone suggested a remark that could be taken more than one way. "A brilliant solution. So, like, we just ask those handy little FH technicians to fix up this stage.... but in a different location."

"A different location? Where?"

"A place that is waaaay more expansive," he said, pointing in the general direction.

She looked to where he pointed, and her eyes alit. "That would attract a lot of people!"

"Precisely the point. If they can fix up Garden and FH itself, this plan will be a piece of cake!"

"Would they do it?"

"Not a problem at all. I'll back you up on everything."

For the first time since their arrival back from the base, she gave those signature warm smiles and brightly shiny eyes. "Whoo-hoo!! Let's get this show on the road!!"

Irvine smiled big and thought about a very good scenario before turning behind him and walking towards the closest FH technician.

* * *

He had a mediocre sleep. Not great, but not bad either, just plain old mediocre. He didn't fall asleep as soon as he entered his dorm, for he worked immediately on fixing up the Flame Sabre and making a hundred and ten percent sure that the nuts and bolts were perfectly straight. He then turned on the telescreen for an hour and watched the news and then went to bed, still thinking about the General, the botched mission, Edea, and Ellone.

None of it made any sense, but he was determined to make it sensible.

He was eating a large bowl of cereal when his dorm speaker rang: _Squall Leonhart! This is Headmaster Cid reporting. Please come to my office immediately._

He flung his spoon across the kitchen and scratched the back of his head hard. _What now?_ he thought. He got dressed in his usual wear and headed out the door to the ivory tower.

Riding the elevator up to the third story, his ears picked up on the sounds of chriping electronics. The doors opened revealing a wholly different control room leading to Cid's office. The FH techinicians had installed advanced hardware with five large computer and radar screens on each side of the room detailing different corners of the world and their various specificities. Balamb SeeDs and workers were busy configuring the proper tune-ups, and they waved a brief hello his way. The control room was lit up by a single stretch of blue halo light on the ceiling and by the ten green radar screens. He walked past them all and entered the golden arched doorframe of Headmaster Cid Kramer's office.

The view was the same, but a collosal holographic map was suspended invisibly above the main control desk detailing various "hotspots" all over the world. A specific corollary was installed to detect the presence of Galbadian activity, as well as another corollary detailing all other enemy or allied positions. A color-coded key was used to distinguish the components with Balamb being blue, Galbadia red, Deling City green, and Dollet Dukedom yellow. At the moment, a cluster of red was forming around the island of Alcauld. Down below the holograph, the control desk was outfitted in multitudes of gadgetry, and Nida was having a hard time finding out where everything went to. Headmaster Cid was behind him with his arms folded across his chest, but he heard Squall's footsteps and turned around to speak.

"Squall, good to see you this morning. Of course, it's almost noon, but that's alright. You looked tired yesterday anyway."

Squall brought up a snappy salute and Cid returned it. The gunblader asked, "You wanted to tell me something, sir?"

"Yes, I want to congratulate you on your bravery in stopping the Galbadian advancement into the city. A census was taken last night at the Vizerine Hospital. 195 Galbadians died in the fighting with roughly another 200 injured. 50 FH civilians died with another 75 injured, and we had 20 casualties and 13 injured in the fighting. So... even though we lost some hands, it was a pretty lopsided battle."

"The Galbadians are terrible fighters, sir."

"Heh, I know. They don't prepare well, I see."

"They were in here as well to find Ellone, sir. That was their main objective. I suspect Edea had a hand in that."

Cid slowly nodded. "Indeed," he said solemnly.

Squall had a thought run through his head. It had been running there ever since the General had spoken the night before. _Ellone has the ability to make people experience the past. Could the Sorceress aspire to have that ability? What other reason could there be?_ He didn't pick up on Cid's suddenly lit-up eyes, but the Headmaster had received a brilliant idea.

The old man turned around and looked at the holographic map. He was slightly dismayed at the large cluster of red, but he soldiered on. "The Galbadians have traded in all their cards and sunk this time under a Sorceress's thumb. Historians will be confused when they try to study the past."

"The bad thing," Squall added, "was that regardless of whether they found her or not, they had orders to burn the city down."

"To eliminate her potential hiding spots, but the White SeeDs should know a trick or two to slip by." He turned back briefly to Squall. "Edea will not stop in her pursuit. The onslaught will continue until Ellone is found. She will continue to hunt and burn everything down in her path. We cannot wait any longer."

Squall raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Cid did not answer but whirled around and grabbed the intercom mic. He clicked the signal on, and the wonderfully annoying beep-beep-beep sound occurred. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement to make."

_Finally,_ Squall thought, _he's going official. About damn fucking time!_

"I have important things to share with you," Cid continued in a great authoritarian voice. "The Garden is in its last day of repairs, and we will be set sailing tomorrow morning at dawn for Balamb. We have important events to address in that port city, and then after that we'll probably be going on a much longer journey. The details of that will be worked out in the next couple days.

"One thing's for certain, though. The journey has a goal... and that is to defeat Sorceress Edea. It seems complicated at first, but this Garden will be a mobile base against her own, of which she occupies Galbadia Garden. Our Garden has been outfitted with the latest weaponry and computer systems, courtesy of the technicians of Fisherman's Horizon. Some proud innovations are wrapped up in this package that should rival anything the rest of the known world has to offer.

"The Garden staff will be facilitated by me. The ratio of old farts, like me, against you youngsters is something like ten to one. So, knowing that, I have decided to entrust my powers of authority onto a SeeD that has the knowledge, the skills, and the strength to make this task possible. A powerful cadet and one that you all know very well."

Squall immediately felt cold, as Cid was slowly looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Therefore, I am appointing Squall Leonhart to be the Commander of Balamb Garden."

Nida and all the other workers up there on the deck with them immediately looked at Squall with admiration and affirmation. The gunblader was distraught, but no words could come immediately to save him.

Cid continued, with a big smile on his face and he had to work to sound serious on the mic. "From this point on, Squall is your leader. He will decide our destinations and the battle plan. If there are any objections at all, please come see me in person. Otherwise, let us all welcome our new leader and heed every word he says. That is all." He turned the mic off and slowly turned to a bewildered Squall whose wild change of facial expressions clearly humored the old man and only added to Squall's confusion. "Squall, my boy. We are under your command now."

The gunblader smacked himself in the forehead and shook his head slowly.

"This is your fate, Squall. It is your destiny to lead the way to defeat the Sorceress."

Squall looked up sharply to see a solemn and serious face appear on Cid. That sight melted the shock of the statement away. The only thing left was one of bitter acceptance.

* * *

Zell breathed in a sharp intake of air. Being inside the large bowl of Fisherman's Horizon was a wonderful experience. The small urban lifestyle with the wonderfully-carved temple in the center directly behind Mayor Dobe's house was a pleasant and tranquil setting. He took a running step, dodged to the floor, flipped up off his hands, missed the timing, and fell on his ass.

"Goddammit, Zell," Irvine said, "must you always do stupid shit like that?"

Zell caressed his sore spot and remained seated next to the stage's staircase. "I'm always up for a good time, no matter how stupid it looks."

"Well, at least he's honest," Quistis said, sipping her iced tea in her yellow fold-up chair. "Tell me, Irvine. I could be checking out our new equipment in the brig, but I'm instead lounging around in Fisherman's Horizon. What did you bring us down here for?"

Rinoa looked equally curious, as she sat with Angelo by her side watching her four friends talk amongst themselves. For the past hour, all they could talk about was the newest announcement by Headmaster Cid pertaining to Squall and how each of them had taken credit for knowing the truth about it first.

"Alright, alright, alright," Irvine said, waving his hands. "In retrospect, all I really wanted to do was just lounge around and do nothing as well. But... we've actually got something big planned. See this stage?"

They all looked at the magnificent stage built in the center of the Inner City. An audience chamber had been folded out draped across the waterfall edges of the bowl city, and some seventy thousand people could attend any premeires the stage would hold. Indeed, an estimated twenty thousand were showing up for this party the Balamb SeeDs were putting on, and it looked to be a fun night.

Irvine continued, glee in his voice. "Here is our producer." He gently brought a giddy Selphie up to meet him.

She cleared her throat and almost couldn't contain her excitement. "Hey everyone, we've got a big night ahead of us. This is for commemoration of two things. One is a response and a graditude to the people of FH. Lots of civilians here and lots of internationals are coming to watch bands play here tonight, as a salute to the charitable hearts of both cities of Fisherman's Horizon."

"Cool," Zell said.

"That's really sweet," Rinoa added, with her dog barking in approval.

"We'll be holding a concert for them," Selphie continued. "The other commemoration is for Squall, of course. He now has a _whole_ lot on his plate, and this should, I hope, soothe out his stubbornness a bit."

They all gave a short chuckle.

"Sounds fun," Quistis said, a warm smile coming on her face.

"How many bands are performing?" Zell asked.

"There's really only one big one. A couple of lead-in bands are coming from Deling City. We, actually, are the main event."

"We?" he exclaimed, but there was a bit of intrigue in his voice.

"Yeah right," Quistis said, the warm smile suddenly gone. "I'm about as musically talented as Squall is to social skills."

"Nonsense," Irvine said laughing. "Selphie tells me you played the piano a bit during your tenure as an instructor here."

Quistis blushed. "That was supposed to be a secret, Selphie."

"Secret's out, girly," the spunky SeeD laughed. "C'mon, you played good. And you got that pretty sky-blue dress to match it, too."

The former instructor gasped. "Selphie, I'm not dressing up!"

"We're _all_ dressing up. In our finest wares! And so is Squall, if he even has anything that is."

"No need to worry," Irvine said. "I picked up something good."

"Good!" she said. "Come on, guys! This'll be a blast!"

Quistis slightly warmed up to the idea. "I'm... not so sure."

Selphie snuggled up to her left side and gave her some Bambi eyes. "Come on, pleeassee. All we need is four people to play."

Quistis fought hard to look away from the stare trap, but she failed. Besides, she liked that sky-blue dress and she did like playing those ivory keys. "Alright, Selphie, I'm game."

The spunky Seed squealed and gave Quistis a playful jab in her ribs.

Rinoa put Angelo's paw down and slowly got up. "You said four, Selphie, but there's five of us standing here."

"Ah, because you're not gonna be a member of the band."

Rinoa widened her eyes, but Selphie was laughing. "No, Rinny, we got something better for you to do."

The wink in Selphie's eye registered to Rinoa, and she immediately thought about the white dress she had on when she met him for the first time on the ballroom floor.

Irvine clapped his hands once and took the lead. "Instruments! We need instruments."

"Wait, Irvy, they don't know what they're playing yet!"

Irvine gave a dumb expression. "Oh yeah, that's right. Okay, for our time tonight, a DJ will be playing some songs for the majority of the evening to get people all riled up in a dance mood. Other than that, we got a songbook here for everyone's favorites across the globe. Yet, there's one song that's somewhat of a special song, though."

"Yes," Selphie said, "I heard it when I was at Trabia. It's about two decades old now, but it's still a very special and romantic song."

"What is it?" Zell asked.

"It's called _Eyes on Me_, about a woman who fell in love with a soldier who left for a military assignment and never returned."

Rinoa widened her eyes and recognized the name immediately. "My mother's song?"

"That's right, Rin. Julia Heartilly. She has a very pretty voice, too."

"Julia?" Zell asked. "The girl who was with Laguna that night?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure this song is about him, which is cool with me, because he is so--"

"Alright, alright, I think we know all about that," Irvine said. "This song is our main event, the one where every couple out there... or every stoner oddly enough... gets some peaceful time to theirselves. So we gotta play it good."

"What are the instruments for it?" Zell asked.

"For the song, it is the Electrical Guitar, the saxophone, the piano, and the bass guitar."

"Hoh-oh," the brawler oohed, "I got the electrical guitar."

"Now, hold on, there's no riffs in this song. You know that, right."

Zell was already strapped into the guitar. "I know that, I know that." He struck the pick against the chords and started ripping out something fierce. His hands moved miraculously up the strings, and his face grew taut in one of those signature "guitar faces" music officaindos obtain.

Irvine closed his fingers around the top of the neck, eliminating the guitar sound and looked Zell in the eye. "No riffs."

Behind the cowboy's back, Zell made a face.

"We already know Quisty's got the piano," Selphie giggled.

Quistis blushed again and sat on the stool.

"I'll take the bass guitar, Irvy."

"Fine by me. The sax is all mine!"

"Because it's one letter short of sex?" Zell giggle immaturely, as he strummed his guitar.

Irvine forced laughter and blew some good notes off the instrument. "Yep, I haven't played you in ages.

"That's what she said," Zell chuckled, exploding into another riff.

Irvine was about to swing the saxophone upside his head when Selphie prodded him hard in the back with her bass guitar. "Enough, boys." She stopped for a minute while listening to Quistis drilling out some pretty tones on the keys. "Somebody needs to do a violin and some taps. The flute and the regular guitar have been provided by an additional band."

"Taps, eh?" Zell called out over his riffing. "I know how to do that."

"I bet you do," Irvine said walking away blowing some more lyrical rhythms in the sax.

Quistis stopped her playing. "I know a little bit of violin."

"Enough for an Irish jig?"

Quistis widened her eyes and sighed a bit. "I'm always up for a little challenge."

"Settled then," Selphie declared proudly. She looked at a stunned Rinoa. "Well, we practice our notes for the entire day until about seven tonight. Most of the guests should have arrived by then. The appetizers will perform onstage here, and then it's your turn to act Rinny."

Rinoa only smiled and nodded her head. She felt a lump enter her throat at the thought of having this chance come to pass. The question was... would he feel the same way?

_

* * *

Is he serious?_

He had received the news at noonish... he couldn't recall the exact time right now. He had gone back to his dorm room without seeing anyone else (and quite frankly, he found that suspicious), and he tried to fall asleep again. It seemed the only logical conclusion. That piece of news shot him backwards like he had been hit with a Spaz rifle. Was the Headmaster really that serious?

And what was this crap about fate? Like it was decided from the moment of his birth. The fucking nerve!

He opened his eyes and discovered that his shirt had magically come off. Then he remembered he had come into his room in a stupor and he had flung his shirt at the wall in disgust. Or in intrigue. Or something else... he couldn't quite remember. He looked at the clock now and saw it was almost five, and he realized he hadn't slept at all. Just laid there. Thinking and thinking and thinking.

_I don't mind fighting the Sorceress. It's unavoidable really. Not fate, no, that's stupid. That requires a God or some sort to believe that. No, the circumstances now make it unavoidable, that's all there is. Besides, I'm a SeeD member, and that's what SeeDs do anyway._

_ What? As long as I'm a SeeD member... as long as I... what if I quit?_

Hmmmm... quitting. He had actually thought about that once. No twice. Once in basic training, when the assignments were getting a little rougher than usual. And the second time was right after the Final Exam. Of course, that Dollet field exam was botched up from the very beginning. Come to think of it... every fucking mission he had been on thus far in his SeeD career was botched. Dollet, Timber, Deling City. The missile crisis was all a matter of timing and pure luck.

He figured he would rate his overall performance as a D+.

And now he was the fucking Commander!

_Goddamn motherfucking bullshit._

Ooh... three curse words at one time. He must've been pissed.

_Shit... I'll just have to do as I'm told to do. The way of life as a SeeD. Command the Garden. Kill the Sorceress. Mission accomplished._

_ How does the Headmaster expect me to take care of anybody? I can hardly take care of myself here in this dorm. The room is cluttered. The bathroom looks like someone threw up in there... literally. Hmm...I forgot about that night three months ago. Plus, the pantry only has Ramen noodles and oat cereal. Damn, we should just head to Balamb now and kill the Sorceress in her sleep or something. Save us the time._

He sat bolt upright.

_She's his wife! He wants us to kill his wife?!! How....do you make an order like that?_

That thought intrigued him, and he laid back down, shifted over to his right facing the wall, and thought about that for another hour. At exactly ten after six, he got out clumsily out of bed and realized just how bored he was.

He shook off the dust from himself and cracked gingerly his back and neck muscles. He hadn't practiced his martial arts maneuvers in a while. Zell was the martial arts king of the campus, but one did not become a gunblader without maximizing his karate skills as well as gunblade skills. (I say 'his' because there have been no recorded instances of a female gunblader in all eight hundred years of the weapon's history)

The Sun was already set, but he opened up a window anyway to let in the cool air. It was warmer than the night before but still carried a tinge of cold. He lit a couple candles on the dresser to set some sort of mood he had playing inside his head and then relaxed. He stretched his arms out lengthwise and breathed deep twice, filling those lungs up with a large intake of air. Slowly, he brought his hands towards his chest in a circle and felt all his muscles relaxing and tightening, relaxing and tightening.

He sat down and did a series of stretches to his back, arms, legs, and groin. Ah, did those muscles cry out in pain and pleasure! He smiled wickedly, for the last time he had done this was right before the Timber mission a month and a half ago.

_Just wait til that Knight sees me in my prime_, he thought gleefully. The bastard didn't know who he was up against.

Thoroughly worked out, he proceeded to do some push-ups and sit-ups to work those ab, chest, and arm muscles. He watched himself in the mirror as he cranked out a hundred sit-ups and seventy push-ups before converting to roughly twenty diamond push-ups. He could feel the tingle run through his body as if a GF was busy being all fucking horny to his muscles and tendons.

With a snap of his hand, he retrieved the Flame Sabre and twirled it around his body in a wide arc. He knew the layout of his room, and he maneuvered it like a honeybee does to the stamen of a flower. He twirled the sword three times around his back and neck, arching a devastating pattern of red across the room. On the third thrust, he put all his weight on the balls of his left bare foot and leapt up in the air, spinning around, and extending his right foot out in a rigid kick at nothing in particular. Collapsing to the ground, he sliced air with his sword forward, spun around, sliced again, spun around, and sliced down low.

Doubling back, he rolled down on the floor and leapt up with his sword for a powerhouse thrust and kick. Retrieving a wooden pole from under his bed, he twirled both weapons simultaneously around his body barely touching his body. He relished the loud whish noises that floated by both his ears as well as the whiffs of air from the blades spazzing over his naked torso. Sweat built up above his taut muscles, and he smiled bigger. He stood straight as a board with both weapons held steady at arm's length and briefed in real deep, his lungs filling to their breaking point. He exhaled so slowly he felt almost inebriated which only accelerated his interest. Corkscrewing his body up tight, he let out a yell and leapt up to the ceiling twirling his weapons around him in a lightning flash. The strength of the GFs were in his head now and he levitated himself high off the ground for a good ten seconds, gyrating his weapons around like a mad man feeling every bit of muscle caress all of his bones in a symbiotic format. He gently lowered himself down to the floor and twirled the sharp weapon around in his left hand. He flip-flopped the Flame Sabre from the hilt to the blade in a quick flip of his wrist with such ease and banter that it looked like he was just hoarsing around. Years of practice had garnished him the foresight of not pressing the serrated edges too sharply into his skin, and for each of the fifteen repetitions he did of it, not one sliver of his skin bled from the impact. After the fifteenth rep, he gracefully twirled the sword back to his scabbard and store it neatly away in his cabinet.

With the blunt pole in his right hand, he cemented it to his shoulders, lifted one leg off the floor and held it at an angle parallel to the floor for a full minute. He then twirled the pole around to his left hand and switched legs to give the other one a full minute of horizontal stretch. He then grabbed the pole in both hands, twirled it gracefully a dozen times and then planted it straight up to the ceiling vertically and leapt up to the top of it. With his hands gripping the top of the three-foot pole and his arms locked straight as they could be, he contorted his body slowly parallel to the floor and held it for a full minute before gracefully settling back to the ground. He twirled the pole once more and set it back under his bed.

And he was just warmed up.

For a nice lukewarm shower followed by a jog around the Horizon. He stripped himself fully, turned on the faucet, and hopped in. He loved doing those workouts, because they released all his pent-up anger and stopped his cloud of thinking. Even if only for a few minutes. That was why he needed to get the jog started as quickly as possible.

But this so-so warm water was enticing. He let it soak the top of his head and caress his neck. It hit the various points where his scars still lay, and he relished their gentle touch. He remembered the moment of the scar's impact, and he believed he would relive that moment for the rest of his life. So horrible the pain. So horrible the glee in that Knight's eye. Did he really feel that way, deep down inside? Squall tried to remember if Seifer had been like that his whole life. A decrepit lonely soul feeding off the misery of others. He sure gave Zell and Quistis a hard time, and not even knowing Selphie that long he didn't really treat her with respect either. His relationship with Rinoa seemed strained as well. Squall figured Seifer had always been a shithole bastard.

Although sometimes he had to wonder.

Ten minutes or so longer than usual and he turned off the faucet. He let the cold air smack him a little, and then he got out and dried himself off. He could see the clock from the bathroom, and its face read 7:30. A little too late for his liking.

He walked across the floor still drying himself off and stopped quickly with a surprise on his face.

Clothes were draped over his kitchen chair. A charcoal gray blazer. A dark blue button-up shirt. A pair of dark khaki pants. Some nice dark shoes. A note with a lipstick-smile lay sitting on his table.

The first thing he thought about was somebody spying on him, and since he was naked he figured he should shut the window just in case someone was snooping in. He clumsily shut the window and then read the note.

_Hey Sweetie,_

_ Put these on and come outside. We've got an important date tonight down in the "bowl". Don't keep me waiting._

It was signed with the lipstick smile, and he knew who it was from. He held the note in his hand, and realized that it was shaking in his grasp.

He looked at the clothes, grunted, and hastily put them on. The look in the mirror when he finished was appealing, and he had to smile a little bit.

_Better not let them catch on that I like this look._ He made a mental note of that, put on his watch, and headed out the door.

Once more, he was struck by surprise.

Down at the end of the hall, she stood there leaning up against a support column in that same white cocktail dress she had worn the night they met for the first time. He remembered the shooting star, that funny feeling, her perky smile, her graceful walk, and her... yes, of course those things. He had to look away for a minute, but she saw him anyway so he trudged his way forward.

"Well, look at you, stranger," she said in her usual gentle voice. "Haven't seen you in a while."

_She says the weirdest things._ "Only been a day and a half."

"That's too long if you ask me."

"What's this important date? I was gonna go out for a jog after I stepped out of the shower."

"A jog, huh? Well, you're not jogging or going anywhere else tonight, if I'm not gonna be there with you."

Sometimes he liked her teasing smile, other times he didn't. This was one of those other times.

"You look so down all the time," she said. "Even now, you seem kinda down."

"Well, I'm still a little tired. The jog helps me get pumped up."

"Ooh boy," she said sarcastically. "Heaven knows the Galbadians are right on our doorstep!"

He looked at her coldly.

"Come on, Squall. How old are you? Seventeen, eighteen? Act your age. All the youth and vitality here..." she stopped to ponder that with a smile. "You need to have some fun every once in a while."

He tried to look away, but she was doing one of those alluring gestures beautiful women do to make men look at them.

"Alright, come on, let's go to the concert."

"Concert?"

"Yes, the important date. The place. The town. The fun. Let's go!" She tugged at his arm, and he grunted something unintelligible.

"You'll love it when you see it. The FH technicians did a wonderful job!"

_So this is the shit that cowboy fucker wanted from me? Of all the things... but.. maybe.._ "Alright, I'll go. I'll go."

"Good, because I wasn't gonna stop nagging you."

"I know."

She led out of the Dormitories and out of the Garden. She neglected to mention the crowd, and when they ascended onto the platform leading to the city he was shocked to see a very large crowd of people milling about the Inner City. Dance music was grooving, and lots of people were shaking booties and hugging and kissing each other. He saw Balambers, FH civilians, and lots of foreigners all mingling together and having a good time. It was quite a shocking spectacle.

"Told ya, you'd love it when you'd see it!"

"Wasn't expecting this..."

"Come on, Squall," she laughed, leading the way.

Shouts of _Hey, Commander_ and _Wow! Looking good, sir!_ came up to meet him as he and the girl slowly made their way through the throng down to the entrance to the bowl. He was quite shocked at the transformation. The waterfall edges were still there, now illuminated by a yellow irridescent light that made the water shimmer like a pearl in an oyster; but a huge carved-out stadium encircled the entire northern edge of the bowl and tens of thousands of people were seated there or standing and dancing to the electronic beats the deejay down on the magnificent stage was making. The sight was a sight to behold for sure.

Rinoa and Squall stayed at the edge until the end of the dance beat, and a young group of people clamored onto the stage. Some rural country dwellers, probably from Winhill or Kelso, they started speaking into the mic and urging people to "go back to their roots". Everyone cheered as none other than Quistis Trepe busted out a violin and Zell Dincht started doing tap dances. The other members of the motley crew band harnessed a couple flutes and some guitars, and a spectacular Irish Jig played causing everyone on the center dance floor to grab a partner and start dancing around in circles like mad exchanging partners quicker than a Deling City swinger's club.

Rinoa pulled Squall closer. "Zelly's found a girl."

He looked at her wide-eyed. "What?"

She pointed down below them. "Look at the front part of the central dance floor. It's the pigtail girl from the Library."

Squall looked and found the girl joining Zell with some impressive tap moves. _Not a bad looker_, he thought.

A hand clasped hard on his shoulder, and he looked and saw the buffoon cowboy all dressed up in a white blazer and gray button-up shirt with white pants and black shoes to boot. "Ha, ha! She convinced you. Good work, good work." He pulled an annoyed Squall over to him. "The party's ripping, and you two look good together. Nothing could be more perfect for the night. Look, I've roped off a spot for just the two of you. It's marked by a... signature spot... by the stage. You can't miss it!"

_This motherfucker is sick,_ Squall thought.

"Have fun and just let it all out tonight, man."

"Are you finished?"

"Of course. Plus, I might be there with a special someone, too." He noticed her coming just as he said it, and he excused himself from Squall and Rinoa and went to the spunky SeeD at the head of the staircase leading down to the stage and Inner City.

A pink-toned arm curled around his blazer-covered elbow. "Shall we venture on down. This little jig is getting my hips swaying."

"We have to dance now, too?"

"Don't give me that crap, mister. I know how your dancing skills are." She propelled him down the stairs, and all eyes were glowing on the Commander as he was dragged down gracefully to the dance floor.

Mila gestured to Zell and Quistis that the main patron had arrived, and the brawler cued for the musicians to stop for a second. All the dancers and foreign visitors stopped their to-do and started clapping to Squall's presence with warm smiles on their faces.

"Well, well, Squall Leonhart!" Zell laughed. "Are you surprised or what?"

An answer was expected, he presumed. Unfortunately he was caught off-guard. Everyone was dressed up like him. The brawler had a matching consortium of blue fabrics on, and his apparant squeeze had matched him with a dark blue dress, along with two pigtails fastened with blue ribbons with pearls in the center of them. Quistis looked positively radiant in her sky-blue dress and high heels, and she was actually wearing make-up. A fucking first! The other members of the band as well as all the patrons were equally dressed up in the finest suits, blazers, and cocktail dresses that it was all just a bit too much for him. He wasn't about to respond in a serious manner, until by the grace of an unknown spirit a waitress came by with a healthy dose of spirits on a plate and he took one with pleasure and finally addressed Zell.

"I've... been surprised all week." He took a sip and the bitter alcohol soothed his stomach immensely.

"It's been a hell of a week!" someone from the crowd shouted, and everybody cheered in the affirmative.

Selphie hopped onstage and grabbed the nearest mic. "Squall, you big stud! This concert was put on not just to bestow our graditude to the people of FH, but for you as well. A large part of this world is backing you now as Commander of Balamb Garden, and lots of them are here tonight."

Everyone cheered his name and drank a large gulp of their beverages. She continued, "This next dance song is a faster version of the jig, but after that we've got a much slower song for you that we hope you will enjoy. Rinoa.... don't let him get away too easily!" Her teasing smile was met by another, and Squall felt sick to his stomach.

But the music began, and she grabbed his arm and hauled him out to the center of the dance floor in front of everyone. The taps started, the flutes occurred, and more violins sounded off. The music was beautiful and complex, but he knew the dance moves and apparantly she did, too. Her body was warm and lithe, and she twirled gracefully with his thrusts and carries like a pro, her white dress spinning around her and her heels clicking sharply and succinctly on the dance floor. His moves kept in step with hers, even as that mad violin played the most rapacious notes from Quistis's flurry of movements.

Someone stepped in for Zell for taps, and he lowered Mila down with him and started showing off his moves. She became more impressed with him the more the minutes passed.

Whoever was playing the flute was doing an excellent job. The mighty sprite leapt down to the floor and blew that instrument like a baker makes a pie: with perfect love. He spun around to each group of dancers on the floor, maddening them into a dancing frenzy all the way keeping in step to each boast of his flute. For a grand finale, the violin joined him and the guitar riffed a peculiar but enigmatic finish, and the tap dancer concluded with a bow. The bowl erupted in cheers and drunken cat-calls, and Selphie grabbed the microphone once more.

"Alright, boys and girls, who's having a good time!!"

The entire place erupted in the affirmative.

"Squall, Rinoa are you two having a fun time?!"

"You know it!" the raven-haired princess replied.

Squall nodded and smiled his reply.

"That's a yes in my book, folks!" Irvine laughed, along with everybody else. "Zell, Quistis, it's time for the main event." He waited for them to join him, and then said, "Ladies and gentlemen, grab your favorite partners. _Eyes on Me_, presenting the lovely Miss Faye Wong as our lyrical singer."

"Eyes on Me?" Squall said to himself, but Rinoa picked up on it.

"My mother's song. It is very beautiful." She slinked closer to him like a mynx, but he was caught up in the familiar name. He tried to figure it out, but the sight of the singer erased it for the time being. The lovely Miss Wong was clad in a red sparkly dress with thin spaghetti straps covering her white shoulders. Her brown hair was pulled into a bun, and her green eyes shone radiantly against the stage lights.

Every couple in the bowl pulled each other close, and Squall was whirled around to face her, and he nearly melted. The sight of her was stunning, but he wasn't quite sure how to respond. She teasingly sighed and put one of his hands on her back and the other in her grasp, just like the last time. Except this time, he was better prepared to dance to a slower song.

Quistis started the keys, and Zell and Selphie picked up on their guitars. Irvine's key would come in the middle of the song. Faye started:

_Whenever sang my songs_

_ On the stage, on my own_

Squall and Rinoa started dancing slowly, both looking into each other's eyes and stepping into a slow waltz. Their movements were graceful, so the other couples didn't bother with watching Squall screw up a move.

_Whenever sang my words_

_ Wishing they would be heard_

Her voice was just the right tempo, and Squall spun Rinoa around on the lilt.

_I saw you smiling at me_

_ Was it real or just my fantasy_

_ You'd always be there in the corner_

_ Of this tiny little bar_

Quistis picked up the speed, and Zell maneuverd over to Mila so they could steal a kiss-- the first of many for them.

_My last night here for you_

_ Same old songs, just once more_

_ My last night here with you?_

_ Maybe yes, maybe no_

After Squall spun her around again, she closed in further knowing how the tempo of the song went. A lump went into Squall's throat, and he felt most uncomfortable but a little intrigued.

_I kind of liked it your way_

_ How you shyly placed your eyes on me_

_ Oh, did you ever know?_

_ That I had mine on you_

She was amazed at how long he kept that position before he broke off and held her at arm's length. She smiled and tried to get back in there. Irvine moved closer to Selphie, and even though she felt apprehensive at first she slowly snuggled up to him and accepted a kiss on her cheek. Zell went back for another one and got one with a smile. Quistis, meanwhile, only made love to her keys, and this dramatic part of the song called for her to be concerted, and she showed it.

_Darling so there you are_

_ With that look on your face_

_ As if you're never hurt_

_ As if you're never down_

The whole crowd was swaying softly now. Everybody, even if they weren't a couple.

_Shall I be the one for you_

_ Who pinches you softly but sure_

_ If frown is shown then_

_ I will know that you are no dreamer_

Faye stepped back a bit, and Irvine stepped forward. The saxophone went to his lips, and the ladie's man produced one beautiful note after another. All eyes were on him, and he shone brightly. Selphie was struck speechless at his graceful movement and lyrical aptitude. Squall felt the same way, and he once again was caught by surprise when a tug occurred at his arm. He looked down at Rinoa, and she motioned him to follow her to the spot.

Faye's voice started in again as soon as they got to the location, but Squall immediately drowned it out. Rinoa seemed ready to talk, and he was about ready to leave. The concert was nice and all, but there really was more pressing issues at hand. _Maybe I can sneak out of here without hurting anyone's feelings._ Hey, at least he was showing a small bit of a caring side, right?

There was a magazine marking the special spot. A petite naked girl with large naked breasts and perky nipples on the front cover. Rinoa looked at it in disgust, and Squall couldn't believe that the wonderful saxophone player still had those childish thirteen-year old fetishes. Of course, Squall himself couldn't stop looking.

Rinoa kicked the magazine away, startling him and walked towards the edge of the deck and sat down, dangling her feet over the edge. She looked at him with a smile and patted the seat beside her. He felt another tense lump in his throat and reluctantly sat down next to her.

"You wanted to talk about something?" he asked, in as patient a voice as he could muster.

She sensed a little bit of irritation and wondered if she should have done this sooner. She brushed off that thought and looked off further across the Inner City. She absolutely loved how the city glowed at night. Looking up briefly, she was glad to see a night sky unobstructed by skyscrapers, noxious fumes, or harrowing search lights. This would be a place to retire to. "It's about your promotion. Everyone, including me, was excited to hear it."

_I wish I was._

"Things are gonna get real tough for you, are they?"

"Hmmph," he mumbled. He had already known that from the start. The thought about that didn't necessarily put him in a good mood. She was looking at him for an answer, but he didn't feel like giving one.

She straightened her back some more and continued with a sigh. "Squall... I'm sure...there'll be a lot of difficult things that you'll have to deal with from now on. Things that I can't begin to even dream about. We were.... we were all talking about it earlier when we were setting the plans for this concert." She giggled nervously. "We figured that you would try to handle everything on your own."

He had his hand on his chin, cutting off his voice a bit. He spoke low anyway, so she couldn't pick his words up. "I probably will." He was bound to do so anyway. No point in burdening others with his problems.

"They know you too well. I...heh, I do too, although I haven't been around you that long enough.

Squall recognized where this was going, and it was giving him a headache. He reached to scratch his forehead, but he was unaware of what she was doing.

"You know," she continued, "when you start thinking, you tend to frown like this."

He looked over and saw her making the same movement and facial expression that he was making at the moment. He grunted, annoyed, and started to rise up to leave.

She grabbed his arm and brought him back down, but her hand strayed toward his back. "Don't leave just yet. Just a little tease, that's all."

He highly doubted that.

"Really though, in all honesty, we all agree that you should open up a little more. You can't handle everything on your own. Do something... er... do something spontaneous. Like this..." She pushed him over the side, and he gulped in surprise.

Battle instincts caught him, and he prepared himself for what would be a nasty fall... off a three-foot ledge. He landed on both feet in a wild stance and seemed to lose his bearings for a second. Then his surroundings caught him, and he saw a beautiful waterfall crescent empty into a pond next to a silver statue of Siren. Rinoa jumped down to meet him, and he whirled on her with a wild look of confusion on his face.

She laughed hysterically. "See! Spontaniety. That's it! That sudden burst of anger and quick thinking. Let it all out. Let out anything that's on your mind!"

That flash of reaction vanished, and he looked at her puzzled.

"If you harbor all that stuff in you, you become nothing but a shell, isolated and lonely. Please, Squall, too many people care about you to let that happen. Just let out anything, and we won't hesitate to help you out. I know it's not easy, but you must trust us and rely on us more."

He wanted to leave. He wanted to stay. What did he really want to do? _Am I that untrusting? I don't mean to be. That's how I've always been. But... now wait a minute this is going a little too far. Maybe I'm this way only because sometimes I get a little bit scared about the future. Like now, as Commander, for instance. I'm not that untrusting, though. Hmmph, nothing lasts forever in this world. Look what happened to my parents... I never knew them. It's great to have friends, you know, especially when they believe you like what she's suggesting, but they're just like the dust of the wind. Here one minute, gone the next. It's too dangerous to rely on others, when life is as simple as that._ He didn't realize he was meandering with his eyes roaming in various wayward directions, so it looked like he was spacing out. _Everyone loses everything someday, and then what? What happens after that? A great big Elysian Field? A happy place in the clouds? For what purpose and why? Why even care about this world now, when it's all just dust in the wind? Everybody around you will be gone, and then what? Nothing. Nobody. Why would I want to be as miserable as that? I've already suffered that feeling, and I never want to go through it again, even... even if I'm alone for the rest of my life._

"Hmmmm...."

He turned around, for he had lost track of time and turned around on her. She was walking around nonchalantly, humming words to the song.

"What?" he asked.

"The melody of this beat has been drowned out a bit. They're kinda ruining the song somewhat."

"Oh," he said bluntly. "Are we done here?"

Rinoa pursed her lips. "Not quite, buddy. You still owe me an answer."

_For what?..... Oh right, I need to be careful about that._ "Fine. In the future, I'll ask for help when I need it. I'll try to trust everybody more often."

She was not amused. Those green eyes seemed to be getting brighter and brighter. She reached over to him and slapped him hard across the face. A momentary fit of anger crawled across his face, but something else beat it back and he was at a loss of words. So was she, and she stammered her next bit. "What is your problem? Why do you have to be all sarcastic like this? I can see if you might be irritated because of what's going on, but you can't really be this much of an ass!"

He couldn't brush this off as usual. Something deep down inside... "I'm.. sorry," he said weakly.

"You're not sorry! You just want to get the hell out of here, that's all."

He noticed a faint speck of tear forming at the corner of her eye.

"Why does it have to be like this?" she implored, and he felt crushed by her next word. "Why?!" With that emphatic tone, she left him there and pushed past the crowd on the dance floor and headed back up to the Garden. The music up top changed to a fast tempo, and the crowd once more engaged in some fine booty dancing.

A nauseating pain hit his stomach for reasons he could not explain. He had a wide range of emotions hit him all at once, and he felt extremely disoriented. He figured Irvine, Quistis, Selphie, Zell, and that Mila girl were busy with themselves, and the entire crowd was engaged in their own thing, so he slipped by them all and headed back to the Garden.

He did not find her again that night, and he was glad. For some reason, his vision was deteriorating. The walk to the Garden seemed a bit of a struggle. Flashes from the past harked the distant corridors of his mind. He saw himself as an eight-year old again, crying out on a porch to a rain-drenched night, calling out for Ellone. "Sis" actually in his eight-year old mind, even though she wasn't his sister. Why did he call her that? Why was he even troubled with this one insane flashback.

He bumped into various walls and felt queasy in the elevator ride down to the first floor. Twice he tripped on his own feet. He crashed into the dormitory doors, and fell twice in the hallway.

_Sis... I'm all alone... but I'll be fine._

That sinister voice of himself. No, he was not fine. Not fine at all at that moment.

He had a fleeting thought to find Rinoa. To tell her he was sorry. To tell her... that... _Nah, she'd only slap me again if I said that._ His stomach was reeling. He found his door and wrestled with the keys and the lock. He finally got it open after five minutes and felt and heard the thing he dreaded most. That sharp, piercing buzz sound rang off loud and clear in his ears, and he crashed hard onto his bed.

Then, a voice ceased the pain for a second. _Her_ voice.

"Squall..... it's me....You need to see another flashback."


	20. Ithius

**Author's Note:** My apologies on the delay. I felt this to be quite an important chapter, and I had a lot of ideas run through my head that just clogged up my updating schedule. I felt the game cheated us on Laguna's story, and I hope to recapture that missing spark here. Of course Ithius is not within the game. An AU element, I hope it's somewhat appealing anyway.

Enjoy the read. :) ~~~ACJ

_A prison riot_

_Ratholes in the Underground_

_The Dream deepens more_

His ears picked up the first sounds of the thunderous boom of the grenade, and he was out of his bed in a flash. His bedroom door slammed opened, and Kiros-- the faithful sidekick-- leapt in with a wild look in his eye. Laguna Loire was dressed only in his pants, but he slung his .44 HadithanSLG-treb assault rifle over his bare chest and followed the dagger-wielder down the stairs and out the front door.

A massive explosion ripped the Mayor's house open, spilling the bodies of the leader and his wife down to the cold pavement, and a swarm of massive gangly creatures eschewed out into the city square. They had chains around their necks and bones and spears in their bodies. They had no hands on their arms, for a bulky serrated chisel was fused into the stump trailing massive blood over their purple skin. Estharian troops lay in the background, armed with cattle prods, each beckoning the hideous creatures to attack certain areas of Winhill. The explosions were coming from the backs of yet another set of bizarre creatures with rocket launchers on their backs. There were two of those creatures, and one readied a stiff cannon and fired into an accountant's office.

The army was thirty-strong and had surrounded the northern section. Laguna and Kiros had not seen a swarm like this in all eight months of being here, but they didn't have to second-guess themselves on the Estharian's presence. They felt that all-too familiar buzzing sound enter their head, and they felt quite invigorated once more. They charged the ten hideous purple creatures; Laguna fired accurately at the front-man and swore hard when he saw the creature withstand a full clip of bullets. Kiros finished the first one off with three deep gashes in the chest and stomach, ducking from the heavy and brisk wave of the chisel hand, falling the behemoth on the ground.

The eighteen Estharians blew a sharp whistle and swarmed the two former Galbadian soldiers with the behemoths trailing behind. Three greenies barreled into the daggers of Kiros, cutting their bodies up but plummeting the man hard on his back. Laguna rolled across the pavement, sidestepping four greenies and a lumbering behemoth, while loading up a grenade. Kiros batted the three who felled him, brushing off the impaled one and slashing the necks open of the other two. One greenie somersaulted over his head, and then corkscrewed back and ripped the dagger wielder's back open with a dagger of his own. The slashed man kneeled sharply, and the greenies pounced on him.

The behemoths weren't very smart, but they carried a lot of power. Their swinging chisel arms had a wide gerth, and two of them accidentally swiped off three Estharians who had pounced Kiros before they swung back Laguna's way. The bumbling man couldn't get his grenade trigger to clamp shut, so he was forced to retreat backwards. He felt the whiffs of the swinging arms reverberate off his body; as well, he smelled the putrid reek emanating out of the open maw. He tripped over the dead body of the Mayor, and found a pistol snug in the belt. He emptied the clip into the groin of the closest behemoth, which made the monster bellow out a most horrible and ear-splitting roar. Mucus and spittle slopped its yellow teeth and flew all over the pavement in thick clumps. Laguna used the holster to jam the trigger mechanism shut, and he unleashed the grenade, caving the behemoth's neck down in a fireball of purple goo and grenade metal. The force of the explosion rocketed the behemoth back into its partner, who fell hard on the skinny back of a greenie.

One of the two greenies atop Kiros released a dagger but was headbutted hard and gutted hard by the enraged man. He batted the other one off and stabbed downwards, hitting soft flesh. He heard feet running behind him, and he turned to see a greenie running faster than any Galbadian he had ever seen. However, a shotgun shell was faster, and the greenie's head split into three pieces. The pubowner Danny and his bar patron Rico were running up to their aid. Rico had a sharpshooter rifle, and he plucked three greenies down in three consecutive shots. The seven remaining behemoths were loosely trailing the square, and the remaining Estharians were desperately trying to reign them in. Laguna clipped another grenade in and took care of two at the same time, as well as five greenies who were trying to corral them in.

Three behemoths took off for the shore outside Winhill, while the other two tore off down to the southern part of the town. One went for the temple, but the other decided to attack Danny and Rico. Both men pumped hard lead into the purple flesh. Rico's three shots failed to halt, but Danny's point-blank headshot split the bastard's face askew and the chisel hands went up in defense as it crashed to the floor. Danny barely sidestepped in time, but Rico's body was cleaved down the middle, as the powerful beast died hard on the cobblestone pavement. The four estranged Estharians unleashed daggers and surprised Laguna by slashing his legs hard. He dropped his SLG and hit the pavement face-first, with one Estharian raising his weapon hand high. Kiros rolled on the floor, spun and kicked two greenies's feet from beneath them, and beheaded the attacking greenie before stabbing his other dagger hard in the fourth Estharian's chest. The two other greenies clamored to get away, but the frenzied Kiros quickly stabbed their life away before collapsing in a breathless heap on the ground.

The entire court was filled with the stench and heap of blood.

Laguna slowly sat back on his haunches, and Danny clumsily headed their way. "You boys... alright?" The previous months-long hassle he had been known to give them had melted away into compassion.

"We're cool, man," Kiros said. "You too?"

The pubowner looked over the former body of Rico. "I'm alright. He... is not, though."

Kiros stared long and hard at both Rico and the two former heads of state for the village. He also took a long look at the bodies of the Estharians lining the ground. They had struck with a vengeance the likes of which had not been documented ever before. He looked at Laguna, whose legs were sliced open good. "Great Eden, man. You look like shit."

"Raine's got bandages."

"You better hope so."

Laguna slightly chuckled and remained where he was. It was quite fruitless to attempt to stand up. The girl was on her way over anyway. Except, she looked quite distraught.

Danny talked first. "Raine, honey, what's wrong?"

She took in Laguna's condition first, and her eyes widened. She took a breath first and then cried, "They've taken Elle!"

Kiros widened his eyes, and Laguna gasped. "No!"

"Yes. They smashed the back window of my bar with one of those... those... purple things, and they took her! They didn't want anything else... except.." She took a look at the Mayor. "I don't know why they did that."

"They looked quite pissed," Kiros noted.

Laguna shifted uncomfortably where he was. "This can't be happening."

Raine watched in horror, as he tried to stand up. "This can't be happening!" he yelled once more.

"Laguna, sit down!" she yelled. "You're opening up your wounds!"

"This cannot be happening!!"

Kiros helped Raine subdue him to the ground, while she yelled for Danny to get her medic equipment from the bar. Laguna heard none of their calls, none of their orders to him. He was weaker, though, and his fighting against Kiro's strength in particular was futile. Yet, his heart was broken, and his stomach was sick.

Ellone was gone.

* * *

A week passed and his body healed. He stood alone in the flower field just outside of the northern gate. The beach lay in sight, and Kiros had already beat him to the boat down at shore. Laguna knew what he needed to do.

And yet he was torn in two.

The onslaught by the greenies had been relentless and provocative. Adel must have been irate and desperate. That meant the men of the earth had a slim chance of actually defeating her for once. That also meant the probability of Ellone dying in her hands was very, very high. He wanted to cry, but his eyes were being stubborn. His ears picked up on her soft footsteps, and he felt his heart break. He knew she didn't want him to go.

Her fingers caressing his back was like an angel playing a harp, yet he refused to turn around.

"The townspeople have grown to like you here." Her voice was woeful, and it broke his heart.

"They... have really softened on me, haven't they?"

"Turn around, please."

She was about to break, and he knew it. With all his strength, he turned around and looked down into her deep blue eyes-- the eyes he could thankfully never erase from his mind, even when he closed them for sleep. They were bluer than ever now that tears were welling up behind them.

"I---" she began but couldn't finish, bowing her head.

He cupped her chin gently and tilted it up to him. Smoothing her long brown hair plastering her face against the wind, he said softly, "I'll find her."

"I know you will."

"They can't hide her away forever. With those behemoths they used, other outside forces are involved here. Raine, wherever she is, I'll find her and I'll bring her back here. I promise."

She clasped his hand with hers and held it to her cheek, leaning into more. "There's so much I need to tell you about."

"I won't be gone forever. You and Elle have made my life the best it can ever be. It may take me a month or a year, but I promise you I will return." He brought the hand away slowly and made as if to leave.

This tore at her and she sprang to bring him back, but he surprised her by whirling around and gently grabbing her hand. She looked down as he slipped a ring on her finger. The silver lion crescent ring she had oohed and aahed so much in the downtown shop. It glistened brightly in the morning sun, and she could not take her eyes off it. Her eyes only averted as he came closer.

He carressed her shoulders, kept one hand there, and brought the other one down her back. She became entranced. His voice was soft yet firm. "I'll always be here for you," and he lowered his head and kissed her lips. She returned it fully and wrapped her snow white arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

The wind blew the grass around them and billowed their clothes. The lukewarm weather danced on their skin, and still they kissed. An intense warmth built between them, and it took all their effort to pry apart. He smiled sincerely to her and squeezed her shoulders one last time, before turning around and walking tall and stern down to the shore where Kiros waited patiently to set the boat firmly out.

She watched him go and felt her stomach.

There was so much she wanted to tell him.

* * *

"You sure about this, Laguna?"

"More than sure."

The desert sands billowed on the horizon, for the temperature was very hot. The boat trip around the southern bend of the western continent took up seven hours of their day, and the Sun was about to set. Out in the westernmost part of the land, the temperature never dipped below ninty degrees, not even in the dead of night. Rumors and legends dictated those causes to be byproducts of the ghastly dragon zombie's breath. True, those bastards were rancid, but nobody in their right mind thought it could influence the weather.

The former soldiers were in dangerous territory. They knew the Army was aware of their status, and they knew the Army was in secret dealings with the Estharians. The Sorceress War had dragged on now for over fifteen years. It was high time for some type of resolution to start taking place, or this fucking shit could go on for decades.

A small glint of metal was being flickered on by the departing sunlight, and Kiros fished in his seabag for a pair of binoculars. Looking through them, he saw the outline of the prison and felt bile enter his throat. "He's in there."

Laguna fished out the guns Danny had let them take. The Winhillians had been so enthralled with their monster extermination, and so (apparantly) had large areas of the known world. The Mayor, when he was still alive, had shown a newspaper clipping. Even though the article appeared in the next-to-last page, the very notion was a masterful thing. The two men had slaughtered up to nine hunded groupings of Adel-spawn, mounting up to almost two percent of the Sorceress's entire army. An Estharian newspaper smuggled from the continent even showcased a growing awe within the city and an explanation for the sudden and vicious attack that had been carried out just a week ago. The paper neglected to mention the origin of the behemoths, but did mention a "peculiar area of the northern continent".

Laguna knew what he needed to do. However, first among all other things was to reunite with the third player. Custodial work was definitely a pile of horse manure compared to the task that sorely needed to be done. He was fully aware of what they were getting into, though. The Desert-District Prison No. Five was an abomination of the Galbadian military and an abomination of the political structure of the city of Galbadia. Deling City had a hand in it, too, but only for tax subsidies for their infrastructure projects. The prison was thirteen stories tall with a torture chamber up top and a massive power generator down below. President Deling had managed in his dealings with Esthar to succor some of Adel's energy to harness inside the prison, thereby emboldening the structure's durability and defensive characteristics. Four previous structures had existed but had perished in either massive prison riots or horrible infrastructure. Laguna seriously wanted to destroy the tower, but he felt that was a foolhardy circumstance since it would mean the deaths of many political activists unfairly detained within its compound. Hopefully someone in the future would find a humane way to topple the compound.

He looked at the bag. Two sawn-off shotguns, a submachine gun, and two pistols. Grenades a plenty. Two sharp as hell knives.

He was interested in shedding blood, but Ward Zabac needed to be freed, and time was of the essence.

Flying mechas were approaching the shore where a small outpost lay overlooking the sea from whence they came. Kiros docked the boat along the water's edge, and both men climbed out leaving the rig there. They walked with a purpose, and the caretaker of the outpost just looked on as they signalled a boisterous mecha to lower its saddle down for them to scale. The trip across the sweltering sands was not a quaint passage to undertake, and even sky travel was a hazard when dust devils erupted out of the blue.

The mecha heaved upwards, and they felt the sharp rise hit their stomachs hard. They kept as calm as possible, as they flew across the dragon zombie-drenched land. They smelled the horrible gaping maws, and they heard the insatiable clicking noises they made. The prison tower loomed ever near, and their muscles went taut with anticipation.

Several yards away from the entrance, the aerial mecha heaved a great sigh and descended down to the sands. There were no prison guards out about, but they still had suspicions. They descended to the sand, sea bags on their back, and walked to the entrance.

A sudden euphoria enveloped Laguna, and he stopped in his tracks which puzzled Kiros. "Hey, man, what's the holdup?"

Laguna pondered the three-pronged monstrosity before them. All its thirteen stories of solid blue metal with the uproarious succubus energy circulating in the middle of the cross-section. "Does this place seem familiar to you?"

Kiros looked all the way up the heighth. "_This_ place?"

"Like you've been here before, but in like a different form?"

".....You know... I've never seen pictures of this place, since the government kept it all secret. Yet, yeah you're right... it's like I recognize the exterior of it and all."

"That deva ju thing."

"De_ja_ vu, actually, but I see your observation."

"I said deja va."

Kiros sighed, but with a bit of humor stuffed in between. "Nice and quietly, or sharp and fast?"

"Whatever we do, the G-Army will be on us in a pinch."

"Ah, shit. You never think things through, do you?"

"Hell no. Always good to be on your toes, ya know."

Kiros shifted the weight of his sea bag and grunted happily. The same old Laguna was back in the saddle.

* * *

The three standing guards looked up as the entrance doors opened, but the two seated guards remained staring at their papers. Not seeming to care too much, they blandly asked, "Put your personal effects on the belt and stand next to the gun-check, please."

The three standing guards became suspicious, as the former soldiers exchanged a quick furtive glance. Laguna stripped his sea bag and took Kiros's and set both them on the conveyor belt, which snaked into a complex oblong machine that ran several LCD screens monitoring various synapses and calculations. Well, it looked like things would start off with a bang.

The triangle of standing guards moved up in front of the small table, and the guard with a leuitenant's badge asked, "What be the buisness of off-duty soldiers here?"

"Off-duty, eh?" Laguna asked, looking at Kiros. "Our looks give us away?"

"You've got the military walk about ya."

Laguna nodded briefly. "We're here to see one of your employees."

"One of our employees?" A suspicious tone.

Laguna watched the two bags enter the machine. "A janitor to be exact."

"A most valuable associate," Kiros added.

"A former member of the military as well," Laguna noted.

"Ah..." the leuitenant said, "the guy with the scar growth on his throat."

"Tha one who lek like one of those pygmy fellers," a private badge spoke in a snuff-filled gum.

Laguna watched the monitoring system start to read the contents of the bags. "Yeah.... like one of those pygmy fellers."

The synapses spun wildly, and a grating noise appeared. The five guards looked sharply at the machine and then quickly up at the former soldiers. Laguna shrugged his shoulders, and Kiros hooked up his daggers with a sickening screech.

"Great Eden--" said one of the sitting guards, and the standing guards flashed their guns. Kiros flicked his wrist wide and chucked both daggers in a boomerang swing that sliced the hands off both the guards. The sedentary deputies cowered in fear, and Laguna walked up to them. "Ward Zabac, please," he said tersely.

"Th-Thirteenth f-floor," said one of them weakly.

Laguna nodded to his friend, who retrieved his weapons stepping over lightly the bleeding wincing men, and went to retrieve the sea bags. He pulled out his battle rifle and handed Kiros two pistols, since the man detested big guns with a passion. He much preferred CQC, but since the requirement of every Galbadian soldier was to perfect in some form of gun marksmanship he chose the flimsy little pistol.

The gravely wounded guards slinked as fast as they could to clear the path to the doorway, and the former soldiers took one last look at the scene and entered the main prison compound.

"We're in the southwestern tower, Laguna, how are we gonna get up to the very top?"

"Gotta be a way."

Both men scanned the area, as they walked across the dirty blue causeway. Inmates behind their doors watched their every movement, and some banged their heads against the glass windows. A scary sight.

The causeway entered into the main cylindrical column, and they craned their necks up to see thirteen layers of prison rooms stretch high up to the ceiling. It was like a donut shape, and a large steel coil snaked its way down to their base which connected to a massive-looking crate. It looked durable enough to ride up.

Laguna signalled the go, and both of them entered the crate. It was cramped inside, and the console desk looked like a candy consortium with all its brightly-lit colors. "Deling codes," Laguna muttered, "guess Deling City owns the machinery here."

Kiros checked over it quickly and chuckled. "I think green means start, Laguna."

"That's only on traffic lights, man."

Kiros pushed the green button, and the crate started automatically.

"What? It's just that simple?"

"Everything's simple for people, with the exception of you."

"Ha-ha-ha."

The lift up was rickety, and their noses picked up the faint hint of dust and sand, as if it was being sifted steadily as they rose. They could already tell the facility was poorly-engineered, and apparantly the budget was extremely low for maintenance. They watched the floors drift by and the occasional janitor and passing guard glance up at them before moseying on. The eighth floor had an improvised mecha with top-notch weaponry circuited to its arms that creeped the hell out of them. Mechas back at Galbadia City had only just begun to become weaponized, but this version of it proved the former soldiers had been away for awhile.

"How long has it been?" Laguna asked, breaking the silence. "A year?"

"Fifteen months."

"Damn. Been a long while."

"Yeah."

The twelvth floor passed them, and they felt their muscles tense. The faerie spell clamored surprisingly hard at their cranium, and they felt a weird energy sensation flow through their veins. The doors opened up, and a mop bucket skated across the ground sharply in their direction. Kiros somersaulted over it, and Laguna brushed up against the side of the door. Both men looked at the source and saw a massive man in a black custodial outfit clenching a mop in a defensive posture. The dirty water dripped from its cloth, and the man was grasping the handle so violently it threatened to break. A ridiculous paper hat was covering his eyes and shielding his vision, but he seemed to recognize that there were armed people unfamiliar to the territory of D-District Prison in his wake.

Kiros crouched down and sidestepped slowly to the side, his twin pistols out at the ready, unsure of what to make of the sight. There was no one else on the floor besides the three of them. Laguna looked at the man hard and then saw his exposed throat.

"Ward!!!"

Kiros looked at the man and saw the scar. "Ward!"

The big man loosened his grip on the mop handle and slowly lifted his hat. The unmistakable face they knew so well greeted them, and Ward himself widened his eyes in a happy surprise. He wanted to shout out with joy, but he only smiled and dropped his useless mop instead.

"Oh, buddy," Laguna said coming to hug him. "You would've kicked my ass with that mop anyday."

Ward grunted in the affirmative and gave both of them long hugs. It had been a long time.

"Ward," Kiros said. "For once I agree with Laguna. I cannot picture you as a janitor."

Ward closed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

"Was it fun?" Laguna asked.

Ward raised an eyebrow and made a little gesture with a certain finger.

"Well, it's time to go, old buddy. None of this crap anymore."

Ward made a fist in a celebratory pose.

"But he doesn't have a weapon," Kiros pointed out.

Ward grunted and pointed to a janitor's closet and signalled to his head that he had a little secret. He opened the door, fished around a bit, and produced two sick-looking combat pistols-- something the generals only carried. A fully automatic death piece with Desert Eagle bullets.

"The fuck did you get that thing?" Kiros asked.

Ward shook his head and smiled. That secret was solid.

Klaxons rang out. The sedentary guards had finally broken their spell.

Laguna cocked his rifle. "Showtime, girls."

The mecha was the first to greet them, and it rose from the eighth floor with guns blazing. A hail of bullets sprouted from both arms and littered the railings, floor, and walls around them. The three men split apart in three different directions and hid behind alcoves in the wall. The mecha landed hard on the floor, its legs sticking into the frame. Shouts below from armed guards leapt ahead of running feet struggling to ascend the stairs as quickly as they could.

Kiros cocked both pistols to the ready and made sure the daggers were nice and sharp to work with. Laguna breathed once and licked his lips. He saw Ward look at him, and Laguna pointed to his head to indicate if the so-called faeries were working there, too. When Ward nodded his head, Laguna thanked the stars and attacked first.

The mecha was alert, and even though it was stuck in the mud (figuratively) it fired its gunarms manically. Laguna rolled on the ground and jammed one full round into the metallic bastard's gut knocking it firmly to the ground. Kiros leapt from his hiding spot, pistols firing loudly tearing bits and pieces of the mecha's frame off. The metal creature limped but scurried quickly to its feet, readying a hyper boost rocket. It whirled around and fired aiming for Laguna. The former soldier ducked to the ground, and the rocket blew up a cell killing the inmate within. Ward stepped forward and fired a direct shot into the socket harnessing the hyper boost rockets. The shot was deafening, and the explosion ripping through the mecha as a result of the damaged fluid was just as loud. The entire top half of the mecha disentigrated into scrap, and the blackened legs fell loosely to the ground.

Kiros grinned and looked at his pistols. "I hate these fucking things." He threw them to the ground and produced his katana daggers, as the first wave of security personnel appeared on their level.

Ward fired the first shot, stunning the newcomers and throttling a headless corpse over the railing and down to the base thirteen stories below. Laguna readied a grenade into his rifle and pumped it twice to prime. The guards faced them and fired. Ward and Kiros split into hiding, with one bullet grazing Kiros's back as he hit his alcove hard. Laguna eased back underneath the extended railing and waited for them to empty their clips. They were halfway to him when they did, and he leapt out like a madman and blasted the pineapple straight into their center core. The sickening squelch of ripped bodies splattered out a thick soupy red stew that drenched the platform and even painted parts of the ceiling. All nine were disfigured permanently.

"You're like a Chocobo in heat, Laguna."

"It's a wonder they ever have babies."

Ward grunted in a disturbing pleasure and took a gander to peer over the edge of the railing by Laguna. A loud racket of prisoners were banging at their doors and seemed to be incoherently cheering them on. More guards were coming, and two more mechas were assailing the steel column of the transport ride. The big man signalled to his comrades to follow him. He knew the entire structure of the place. He led up a large ramp that seemed to lead to a fourteenth floor with a twisted blood-soaked room as its only component. A causeway wrapped around and revealed another component which was a small wooden door. He smashed it to pieces with one swift kick of the boot to reveal a separate transport hold that resembled more of an elevator. He motioned them to hurry, and they sailed down to the base. Sounds of confused gunfire and indistinct shouts echoed all around them, and they figured they were being waited on down below.

The doors opened and two guards barrelled in with billy clubs. They had apparantly left their guns somewhere, but they were surprisingly quick nonetheless. One club socked Laguna right in the balls, while the other nailed Kiros hard in the chest knocking the wind out of him. Ward managed to decapitate one guard with the sheer force of the Desert Eagle bullet, but the sound temporarily incapacitated the three former soldiers. The guard was wearing a little riot mask, and he was only slightly buzzed. With surprising strength, he knocked the fancy pistols out of Ward's grip and towed the big man down to the floor. It was a sloppy mess, and the guard was almost crushed underneath. Two more unarmed guards came to help, and a mecha was grating close by-- one armed to the teeth with strafe guns.

The guard who brought him down delivered a swift punch to Ward's face, blackening his eye. The other two took swift kicks and jabs to his side, but the man was a beast. He grabbed the guard who tackled him by his collar and headbutted his face, smashing his nose into his brain. The hit stunned Ward for a second, allowing the other two guards to deliver more jabs. Kiros continued to cough up blood, but Laguna got up drunkenly and flung one guard down to the ground. Ward grabbed the other guard and punched the fucker hard in the chin, lifting him off the ground and sending him hard into the side of the wall. Laguna punched his guard, received a punch in the gut, grabbed the guard's fallen club and jacked it into his eye. The pain in his gut doubled him over, but the sound of the mecha made him curse.

The grating devil sputtered into view and showed its guns. Kiros steeled himself, hauled his ass up, and mounted the metal beast. Its guns followed him and fired, but he danced around them and sliced every circuit in half. Smoke billowed, sparks flew, the rotary coils burst out, and the mecha died its own form of a bloody death. The dark-skinned dagger fighter settled lazily to the ground and looked exhausted. More shouts were imminent.

Ward grunted annoyingly. This reminded him too much of the Centran disaster.

Laguna hobbled to his feet and hauled the big man up. Ward pointed the way, and they followed him through twisting turns and finally to a great exit sign. Ward kicked the door open, and a monstrous yell greeted them.

A thick slimy green goo painted Ward's chest, Laguna's arm, and Kiros's legs sending all three of them to the sand. It was dark outside, and the lukewarm night air enveloped the desert around them; yet, the monstrous dragon zombie before them was having a ball glaring at them lecherously. A serrated tongue licked its green-stained lips and purple teeth. A noxious cloud of breath exhaled its muzzle, and its eyes seemed to wink in the night drenchness. Its body length was roughly fifty feet long, supported on six powerful wings. A pool of murky green liquid trailed in its wake, and clipped brown wings on its back seemed to suggest it once had the ability to fly. It grinned wide and let loose a piercing screech that deadened the air around them and reverberated off the metallic structure of the prison.

The sticky goo was like spiderweb, and Laguna ignored it as best as he could while slipping in another grenade into the chamber. The dragon zombie snorted viciously and reared its head. It dove for them and Laguna pumped the muzzle full of pineapple explosive. Half the creature's face melted, and its body sprang backwards a bit, but the goddamn thing was barely affected. Its tongue licked the singing wound on its face, and a powerful leg scooped up Laguna and flung him hard across the desert sand. Ward was having trouble getting up with the massive tangle of slime coating his chest, so the dragon zombie went for Kiros who was skirting clumsily along the sand. He crossed his daggers into an X and raised them up to protect himself with all his strength as the undead head dove toward his. The force of impact caved Kiros to the ground and broke his right arm. The crossed blades ripped open the gaping wound in the dragon zombie's face, forcing it to relinquish a full death blow. The creature staggered back more and roared menacingly.

Laguna forced himself up, bleeding from several orifices, and loaded his final round of bullets in the chamber. He rushed the monster, realizing that he needed every ounce of strength to get to Ellone, and sprayed the dragon zombie full of bullets. Huge chunks of green rotten flesh dripped off the monster, and it stumbled further back crying in a loud menace at the vicious onslaught. After the thirty bullets expired, the creature still wouldn't die. Laguna made a little whimper from his throat-- he had hit all the vital areas, or what he thought were the vital areas.

The dragon zombie leaned back and roared triumphantly again. Laguna sank to his knees. He saw Ward having a hard time yanking the slime off. He saw Kiros in a mangled position. His foolproof plan now was revealed to have plenty of holes. Ellone was as good as dead now.

"Dear fucking god, am I insane or what?" he cried to himself.

The dragon zombie walked proudly towards him and dripped nasty green saliva from its mangled face. It reared to its full height and prepared to deliver a nasty strike downwards.

A distant explosive sounded, and a mecha rocket blew the rest of the zombie's head clean off. Mounds of rotten flesh drenched Laguna's person and the sand around him. Another rocket slammed hard into the chest of the headless corpse and flung bits and pieces of rotten body all over the desert sand, marking a foul-smelling blood crater splattered everywhere.

Laguna choked on flesh and vigorously rubbed as much of it away before he realized there were people standing in front of him.

High-ranking members of the Galbadian military.

Medics attended Ward and Kiros, and some kind of vial with light-green liquid was injected into Kiros's right elbow. Laguna looked at each of the men standing in front of him and recognized the forefront figure as Commander Browning Campbell, the head leader of the Southern Command. The former soldier wanted to gulp, but he felt so disgusted upon seeing the man responsible for the negligent and acquiescent behavior with the Estharians. He did nothing except look at the man and wait for the bullet to enter his brain.

Campbell seemed to recognize him-- a first for the chain-in-command. "Loire, right?"

"That's right, sir."

Campbell's partners murmured disgusted remarks and reached for their guns. Campbell silenced them with an unusual gesture of his arm. "Loire, why have you caused this trouble?"

"The Army life was never for me, sir."

"Ha, well I can see that, private. That doesn't answer my question."

"_This_ incident was my doing, and mine alone. The Centran thing was entirely a fluke."

Campbell looked at Kiros. "He arrived at Kelso about ten months ago and said the same thing. We'll be extracting that Lunatic Pandora thing quite soon in fact, or at least that's the hope of all things. As long as Adel doesn't know about it, then all's good to go.

"But... you see, we can't have you knowing about that."

"Even on a fluke."

"Of course, that's the problem. You see, we thought the matter was solved when you three were reported to be missing and unaccounted for."

".....Really?"

"Yes, we don't want our little privates to know about the Pandora thing. Too much publicity leads to bad results. With you gone, the little matter is thus resolved and no one's the wiser."

"What's it do?"

"Who wants to know?"

"With all due respect, sir, me."

"Tough shit, private. That's on a need-to-know basis, and your ass aint on the list. Now, why are you here on the scene again?"

"I'm getting my buddy out of your measely employment!"

Campbell looked over at Ward, who was being fully healed from the attack. Medics were looking over at Laguna, but the commander was holding that off for the moment. "Loire, he made a fine janitor."

Ward grunted, which would have translated into a scoff. Campbell ignored him. "You made quite a mess in there. Fourteen dead men, two destroyed mechas, and three wounded. That must weigh heavily on your conscious."

"What should weigh more on yours is the deaths of innocent Winhillians down south of here."

Campbell stared long and hard at Laguna. "Winhill?"

"Yes, I was the town's Monster Hunter for eleven months, repelling some nine hundred monsters of Adel's army. I realized that Galbadia aided and abetted secret information to the Estharians as to the whereabouts of that village. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that the latest ambush last week was a tip-off from you guys as well. They attacked with an extra vengeance than I've ever seen, and they brought some weird hulking purple creatures with cleaved arms. The strangest sight."

Campbell gave knowing looks to his comrades, and Laguna gritted his teeth. "They killed the Mayor and his wife, and stole the town's most precious four-year old girl."

"Hm. A sacrifice to Adel."

"Thanks for the sympathy, sir."

Campbell waved him off. "Enough, Loire." He pulled out his pistol. "Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

Laguna looked at the barrel briefly, before looking straight into the commander's eyes. "I am not afraid of anything."

The two looked at each other for a good five minutes. The finger didn't leave the trigger, but it didn't pull it either. Campbell studied the sunken man before him and found no trace of fear in his eyes. This irritated the commander, but there was nothing he could do to admonish it.

The gun lowered.

"Ithius."

"Pardon, sir?"

"Ithius. They took that little girl of yours to Ithius. Incidentally, that is also the place where those purple things come from. Those are zombie stalwarts, the city's main police force. A lot of bad activity occurs up there, and they'll probably be selling her on the black market for a good price to send her to Esthar through the Dragon Forest. The Central Ocean causeway was hit by a hurricane last year, and repairs are still underway. Adel has created a gigantic salt land that has incidentally become the graveyard of fallen soldiers guarded under the demonship of Abadon. Passage that way east is almost impossible. The south of the eastern continent is experiencing a major civil war, too, so the only way into Esthar is through the north.

"If you hurry to Ithius, you might be able to catch her in time."

Laguna looked at each of the men standing before him and finally looked at Campbell. He seemed sincere. Medics came and healed him quickly. The renewed energy flowing within him strangely did not calm him, but he had to act as if it did. He and his friends stood up and realized a mecha cabbie had flown to take them to the Port. Ward and Kiros immediately hopped into it, wishing to be away from the brass.

As Laguna stepped onto the cabbie, Campbell cleared his throat. "Loire."

Laguna looked at him.

"If you ever show your face here in Galbadian territory again, you're as good as dead. Understand?"

"You don't have to tell me twice, sir."

The brass saluted them off, and the mecha departed across the desert sand.

* * *

With the war still simmering away, much of the world's budget was focused on defense and war spending. For the general population, healthcare and infrastructure were hardly ever addressed. In the span of twenty years, the planned underground railways were not even fifty percent complete. The island of Alcauld had just had its causeway opened two years ago, and minimal work had been made on the bridge spanning from DelWitzer to Ithius. The Trabian continent had been sending angry letters to its southern neighbor for quite some time now, and still they were met with lackluster responses.

Ships were the only transport available now, and the three former soldiers were aboard one now making their way straight into the mouth of Port Blount on the southernmost part of the city. Ithius was a medium-sized gambling and prostituion center of some five hundred thousand citizens. A government composed of warlords hoarded a forty thousand strong police force of zombie stalwarts, horribly mutated gremlins that dwelled in the forests north of the city. Every spring when the mating season of the forest animals occurred, Ithian poachers collected large quantities of gremlins and mutated them back in the city to the painful transformation into the stalwarts. Most became police officers, yet some took turns as body doubles or actual politicians. It could be quite impossible sometimes to tell the difference between a zombie stalwart and a real figurehead.

The city itself was quaint-looking on the outside but tainted with a horrible core. For the unwary fisherman or trade apprentice, the brightly colored villas that greeted you on your entrance enticed a peculiar Dollet Dukedom seaside affair, except the instant sight of a two-gil whore that greeted you off the dock made you feel like your dick would spew black piss automatically. The city had an eighty percent poverty rate, and seven out of ten people were involved in the rampant drug and peddler business that flourished in all five districts. Public education was nonexistent and the sole hospital in the direct center of the city was overstocked every day.

The prime entertainment was the Civic Center in the Rinauld District. Gladitorial fights and general public execution was a daily occurrence, and most people captured as prisoners of war or simple kidnapping was rolled on a dice to see what type of "fun" would be had at his or her expense. Every weekend as well, there would be an uproarious slaughtering of the Moombas, small furry fire-red animals found in the Shumi territories northwest of the city. To great fanfare of course, they were an extreme delicacy to the rich people.

As the ship finished docking at the port, the drawbridge came down and the hookers swarmed the entrance. The three former soldiers batted them away, cringing at their claw-like fingers scraping their clothes, and hurried as fast as they could out of the docks. A tattered map of the city was situated in a kiosk just off the ninth dock post, and they found the City Council post after several minutes of deciphering the peculiar language. Several hideous stalwarts eyed them suspiciously, and some followed them as they wound their way towards the Council office in the the Third District's Downtown area. The Council building was as deceptively decadent as the city itself, with unique Centran architecture lining its facade. The trio glared at the stalwarts who backed off a little bit and then entered the decaying interior. Corpse-like aides greeted them and showed them to the office of the Mayor, who was busy sending wires down to Deling City.

They waited for the man to get off the business, and then he addressed them. "May I help you. " A whiny voice. A coddled voice most likely.

"We're former Galbadian soldiers," Laguna started.

"Ooh boy."

"Yes, well, we left because Galbadia and Esthar are doing fishy business together at the expense of rural areas."

The Mayor shrugged his shoulders. "What else is new?"

"They were involved in the kidnapping of a little girl who's subject to be one of Adel's successors."

The Mayor annoyingly rubbed his face. "Again," more whiner this time, "what else is new?"

"They had the greenies use your police force to abduct her."

The Mayor sat bolt upright. "What?" The piercing shriek hurt their ears, and Ward grunted disapprovingly. "Impossible!"

"You can wire my former commanding officer. He suggested this city as the only accessible port into Esthar. Plus, he was the one who granted the permission. Apparantly, without your input."

"Son of a fucking bitch. Browning Campbell?"

"That's the one."

The Mayor slammed his armrest. "Son of a fucking bitch. Tightwad motherfucking blugu."

Laguna rubbed the back of his neck. Kiros had his arms folded, and Ward had a massive headache.

"What's this girl's name?"

"Her name is Ellone."

"And how old is she?"

"Almost five years old now."

"Alright. White, black, yellow, plaid?"

"Plaid?"

"The Dunmire people in south Esthar are plaid-colored."

"She's white."

"Color hair?"

"Brunette."

The Mayor rapped his knuckles on the desk, as the other hand frantically typed keys into a fancy wire machine. An archives machine. Ithius was behind the times in modern technology, much like Timber in the Galbadian provinces. He spent ten whole minutes looking up various things inside the machine, his face contorting in a variety of facial expressions.

Finally, the idiot mayor sighed. "She _was_ here, but she departed for the Dragon Forest just this morning as a matter of fact."

Kiros sighed. Laguna pinched the top of his nose. "_This very _ morning?"

"Yup."

"How?"

"I dunno. It doesn't say on here."

"Bull."

The Mayor shrugged and leaned back in his seat. "Probably was sold to the highest bidder. If this is Adel's successor, I'm going to take a wild guess and say it was probably one of the Five Families in Esthar Proper. She probably went for over a million gil. A prized possession such as that. Might be trying to obtain some good favor with Her Majesty in the process."

"Her Majesty. Don't talk about the Sorceress as if she's some decent creature."

"My dear sir, all Sorceresses start off as decent-enough women. Very beautiful. Very amicable. It's not exactly deception. _All_ of them do not want to become monsters. Sure... as all humans are prone to sinful emotions and feelings, all humans desire to fulfill a good promising future. These sorceresses harness these same qualities, as well as their extraordinary powers. Where they get those, I haven't the faintest idea. With those powers, though, their love and beauty become compromised and frail, and they become evil after that.

"Adel used to be a very beautiful and loving woman. Her two Knights were former lovers who eventually became good and trusted friends. She was a beacon of hope to the Fuller people in northeastern Esthar before her slip across the line. If all of us look at her in that light, then she won't seem quite as monstrous as she is."

The trio pondered that briefly, and even though Laguna was irate at the human trafficing Elle was being pushed on the Adel history intrigued him. For years, he had been raised on Galbadian propaganda and did not realize that there were really no such things as succubi or sorcery. Humans were the core, and the ailment was the mysterious disease that plagued them. Wherever that came from.

"The Dragon Forest, you say?"

"Yes," the Mayor whined. "Lots of winged demons in there. Possibly a GF as well."

"GF?"

The Mayor widened his eyes. "You don't know?"

Laguna looked at his companions, and they hadn't the slightest clue what the fuck a GF was.

The Mayor slapped his forehead and laughed, much to their annoyance. His whine became more nasally and arrogant. "I totally forgot. Galbadians and Delingers don't use magic or god-powers."

The trio widened their eyes. Shit like that was the stuff of urban legend in G-Army circles.

The Mayor leaned forward. "GFs are Guardian Forces. It's a religious thing, I don't really give a shit about all that. But it's big time stuff around here. Statues and Magic draw points and big healing powers flow everywhere here. The Shumis up north of here are big into harnessing the powers of Bahamut and Eden Himself with some powerful magicka in their village."

Kiros cleared his throat and leaned forward. "I, like you, am not a religious person, so can we speed this up?"

"Sure, take the east gate to take the Highland Pass on over to Trabia City itself. That's the gateway into the Dragon Forest. Make your way through there and be on your best behavior with the Estharian authorities at Camp Ghast to the entrance of the Estharian continent."

The trio nodded their heads once and got up to leave.

The Mayor leaned back in his chair. "Say, chaps. Are you up for one bit of fun in this city?"

Ward grunted disapprovingly. Kiros visibly shuddered. Laguna shook his head. "I apologize, sir, but we really must get going. Time is not of the essence."

"I understand that, but it'll be a long journey anyway on foot. Adel will be quite busy with her own plans, as well. Take at least a couple hours to see our wonderful event down at the Civic Center."

"We really don't--"

"Oh, but I insist," the Mayor said delightfully, getting up from his chair. "Tons of people will be there. It brightens up their day."

Laguna looked at the irritated faces of his comrades and sighed. "What's going on there?"

"Animal slaughter."

Laguna groaned.

"Most mesmerizing, my good sir." He ignored their groans and escorted them out of the Council building. Indeed, large crowds were flowing through the streets headed straight for the Rinauld district. The Civic Center was a grand structure, football-shaped, and five stories tall. Different colored pennants and ruby and green banners draped over the edges of the outside surface enticing people to come watch the "epic" dismemberment of (no kidding!) "sweet and cuddly" animals.

The Mayor was right there with him, and he had pulled out a special animal-killing badge and had pinned it to his coat jacket with a great big smile on his face. Laguna and Kiros shook their heads in irritation. Ward had a look of ire on his face, and his fist was clenching so tightly his knuckles were white.

Trumpets soared, and an announcer boomed his voice in the mic. Crowds were cheering uproariously. The Mayor brought the trio up to the top tier for "the best view" and settled comfortable in a seat. The three former soldiers hesitantly sat down and watched as the gates were open down below.

About half a dozen furry Moombas scurried helplessly out into view. The crowd went into an immediate uproar and started pelting them with fruit and other objects. They scurried away as best they could, but it was a full circle surrounding them and none of them escaped clean. Trumpets blared again, stunning them frozen, and large steel gates opened up to the north. Two zombie stalwarts impaled with jagged spikes sauntered out into the open to a rapidly excited crowd. The Moombas shrieked in an incomprehensible language and backed away as fast they could, but the stalwarts pulled some spikes out of their body and advanced fast. Moomba limbs and orange blood splattered the ground and drenched some members of the bottome tier, to the delight of the crowd. The six Moombas were not immediately killed, only maimed. When they couldn't walk or move further, the two stalwarts corralled three to each and looked to the crowd. One by one, they asked the crowd for a decision based upon the efforts of the animal: thumbs-up for consumption, thumbs-down for incineration. The crowd overwhelmingly voted thumbs-up-- possibly broader political implications were the main reason-- and the two stalwarts immediately carved their bodies up and flung them into the crowd. People fought each other to gain a piece of an eyeball or a bit of tail.

The former soldiers recognized that there was another task to take care of before Ellone could be found. Kiros looked at Laguna and only knew that to be true. The Mayor excused them to leave, and they headed out of the forum. They threw up first and then went into the lobby. There they met an extraordinary sight.

The lobby was teeming with customers ordering snacks and cleaning their clothes off from the latest splatter, yet there were intricate creatures roaming around the mix holding up peace signs and being ignored by the bulk of the crowd except for the police. These incredibly strange creatures wore all-white robes and had tan skin with big beady green eyes and double chins. They held signs that proclaimed peace towards the Moombas, and some held bullhorns to protest the cruelty exhibited upon them. They received many gestures along the way and several arrests of "pre-emptive suspicion" by the stalwarts.

Laguna saw a group of them looking bedraggled over by a water cooler, and he made his way over to them. They regarded him shyly but interested. He bowed first. "I just came from a showing of that. I want to help you out here."

The double-chinned creature made an interesting sound in his throat. He saw the visible empathy in the young man's voice, and while he would normally be suspicious of the help he felt obligated to further it. "Greetings human, what be your name?"

"Laguna Loire, sir. This is Kiros Seagill and Ward Zabac. Ward had his throat slit, so he can't quite talk."

A somber look came over the creature's eyes. "My goodness. You three look quite generous indeed. I would love to give you all my name, but it contains roughly two hundred characters and about a hundred syllables. You see, I am a Shumi, and we creatures are a very complex race. We like to do things differently."

"Ah," said another Shumi, "but we are quite peace-seeking, and we are more like druids than anything else."

"Yes," said the first, "we love animals, and this city is quite the opposite. If they didn't have a lucrative trade deal with the folks up in Nagansett, these Ithians would probably murder us all."

"What are Moombas, sir?" Laguna asked.

"They are a combination of dogs, cats, and beavers. Siren's playthings. If you know Siren, she is the Guardian Force of Nature. A most exquisite diety."

"Is there anything we can do to help you, sir?"

"With the Moombas?"

"Yes."

"I'm afraid that there is none. The City Council is thoroughly involved in the deal, as I'm sure you've already noticed."

"Yes, we have."

"Then there is none." The Shumi sighed despondently. "Unfortunately."

"Where are the pens?"

The Shumi widened his eyes to a brilliant green. "I beg your pardon."

"Where are the pens? We need to free them."

"Damn, Laguna," Kiros said quietly.

"My good sir, there's no way--"

"We're former Galbadian soldiers," Laguna explained. "The Mayor knows that if we want we can send the entire Galbadian fleet to this city and be done with it, if that was the case. This city is most dreadful in its practices. Those warm fuzzy creatures need to be freed. They deserve more than this."

The Shumi looked at all three of them. "Indeed, sir," said the lead one. He looked in general around them. The zombie stalwarts were busy herding traffic in for the second round of slaughter. "Down the back, past three causeways are the pens. Do be careful, sir."

The trio nodded and began to leave.

"By the way," the lead Shumi said. "You have earned a place in our hearts. Feel free to stop by Nagansett sometime. Anybody that helps us retains a place in our hearts forever."

"You can count on it," Laguna said warmly.

* * *

"Hell to the fuck no!" The Mayor whined.

The rancid smell of foul decay littered the pen stables. Several Moombas had passed away from neglect while the majority of the three hundred pens were filled with emaciated and sickly reddies. Ward and Kiros couldn't take their eyes off them, and Laguna had to seriously concentrate on not letting his emotions get the best of him-- which was incredibly hard to accomplish at this point.

Several zombie stalwarts had accompanied the Mayor and his subordinates down to the pen. Several Shumi had joined Laguna's side, and the former soldier was not going to take no for an answer. He was incredibly surprised to find that the Shumi had much better telecommunications technology than the Ithians did. Even though his threats of Galbadian assault were false and that he had a price on his head from the Galbadians, the idea of any invasion into Ithius was not such a grand thing for the Mayor.

The whiny bitch of a man looked at Laguna with a petrified expression as the former soldier dialed up a random number and started talking to an anonymous person on the phone. Laguna ignored the other caller and thanked the stars the respondent had a low voice. He kept his composure and secretly grinned at the Mayor's crumbling countenance.

Finally, the man broke. "Alright, take them. Take all of them! Horrid, useless creatures these fucks are! Tell these double-chin shits to stop patronizing my Civic Center, too. Free speech my ass! Tell them, we'll quarantine them if they come into _my_ Civic Center again, you hear!"

"Mayor, they can come any damn place they want to. It is none of anyone's business of peaceful demonstrations. That will be kept intact."

The stalwarts muttered unintelligible phrases and disbanded in a huff to unleash the Moombas. Other stalwarts came to escort them on a transport truck up to Nagansett. The Mayor remained in his futile position of authority to set some kind of rule and standard, but he failed to come up with a decent-sounding voice. He looked between the three former soldiers and sighed heavily. "I'm sure we Ithians can compensate somehow."

"Clean up the ports."

"Excuse me?"

"Clean up the ports. This city has been on the low-end of trade relations with every nation on this earth. Please install proper humanitarian efforts and relieve your women the burden of prostituting themselves all over the place down there. Also, stop trafficing children. I'm now forced to walk through dangerous territory now, just to get to a particular one because of your policies."

The Mayor was ready to leave, but he savored up all his venom for one final bout. "I'll _gladly_ take an invasion over setting up those _liberal_ methods, sir. Good night and good luck to you." He spat at Laguna's feet and stormed past him out of the stables.

The Shumi looked at him admirably, as they too made their way out of the rank holding. They stopped at the entrance to the Civic Center where a large crowd of people were astonished to find several trucks hauling off the Moombas. Some still threw fruit at them, while others prepared to storm the City Council building. Yet most were being distracted by zombie stalwarts directing their attention to some new excursion to ingratiate themselves with.

A new Shumi approached the trio, clad in a red robe. His colleage introduced him as the Artisan, a craftsman of fine wares and statues. The Artisan extended his hand and shook Laguna's warmly with a smile on his face. "I will be making a fine statue of you, Mr. Laguna."

"Oh, I do appreciate that sir, but it's not necessary."

"No need to be so humble, Mr. Laguna. It's not everyday one cares about the Shumi or the Moombas. You see, Moombas are more than just warm fuzzy creatures-- they are the eventual seeds of future Shumi. Through enlightenment, Moombas become the Shumi image that they acquired through their lifetime. We both are dying breeds, but the more generous humans there are in this world, like you, the more our kind may prosper. We honor you with this statue, and it shall look upon our peninsula with great magnitude."

The warmest smile he ever had, a poignancy similar to his time spent with Raine, came across Laguna's face that surprised even Kiros and Ward. "I greatly thank you, Mr. Artisan. I will never forget your race wherever I go."

"You'll always be welcome in Nagansett, Laguna," the head Shumi said.

Together, the two races exited the district and made their way for the edge of the city, honor and harmony flowing within. Even though, the numerous threats and worries tugged at the back of his mind Laguna Loire seemed content at the moment. If the worst came to pass and Ellone was.... dead...he knew that he had accomplished a partial peace on the earth that no one else could touch.

****A flash of white light****

Squall fell off his bed and smacked his nose on the floor. The dream was over once again, and with once again a violent and confusing twist. Yet, he remembered warmth in the interactions of Raine and Laguna, a weird and sensational warmth of the kind that he had wished he had all his life. A strange and comforting acknowledgment.

He now realized that Sis had been on the run for all her life. She had been kidnapped and sold into trafficing on an eventual route to the Sorceress Adel in Esthar. Yet.... he had flashbacks of knowing her somewhere. He had talked with her personally when he was a kid. He had _seen_ her.

Did Laguna rescue her?

What about Adel?

Where did Sis go then?

So many questions.... He gripped his head tightly and curled into another fetal position. "Sis...." he cried helplessly. "Why must you toy with my emotions?"

He expected an answer, but no one spoke in his mind again.

He laughed.

He figured he was going insane.


	21. Intruders

**Merry Christmas everybody**. I worked for a special Holiday release date, and I'm proud to be able to keep to that schedule.

I personally think this is a badass chapter. Enjoy the read and review as you please. ~~ ACJ

_Rumble in the port_

_The Ruby Dragon forces_

_Spark the tide of war_

Morning came very slowly and caught him leaning shirtless and cold against the window sill. The glass was open, and the cool air bathed his chest and tickled his underarms, as he laid his head in the crook of his arm and thought. Thought, thought, thought. Nothing else better to do.

He now realized that Laguna Loire was more than just a bumbling fool, for his passionate defense of the Moomba population and subsequent acceptance into the Shumi tribe carried a great deal of weight in these dream sequences Ellone was sending him on. Yet, could it be possible that _his_ experiences at the prison torture chamber and the NORG fiasco could have similar implications? Why would it, though? Squall and Laguna were polar-opposites in nature, and the gunblader thoroughly detested the machine gunner's behavior. Plus, the man's bumbling let Ellone get away!

What the hell kind of message was Ellone trying to send him?

He remembered what had transpired last night with Rinoa suddenly, and then he remembered the campus was to set sail for Alcauld island at noon, and he slammed his fist against the wall and looked around for a clean shirt.

* * *

The Sun was barely up for a couple hours, but he was hungry. The Dream and the frivolous concert had badly tarnished his stomach, so he quickly made a beeline for the Cafeteria. The lines weren't up for business, but his new-found Commander status (with the egregious rank of SeeD Level 30, only the second-highest in the chain) would let him bypass most of the protocol around Garden. He grabbed some hotcakes and bacon with buscuits smeared in gravy and sat down at a booth. A glass window spiralled around deep bends of the wall and offered him a splendid view of the aft wing of Balamb Garden overshadowing Fisherman's Horizon. The warm buttermilk cakes singed and then warmed the inside of his stomach, and he was unaware of the goofy expression his closed eyes and wide lips were making.

He was startled by a warm, furry brush against his leg, and then he recognized the familiar panting. Angelo barked to his face for attention, and both stared at each other cooly before Squall reluctantly rubbed the dog's neck.

If that had been the first surprise, he was unduly ready for the second. He heard her soft footsteps approach him from the side, and he became slightly annoyed. The delicious scent of the cakes was being spoiled.

They looked briefly at each other, before something inside both of them averted their gaze. Angelo made a sound similar to a bull snort and rushed over to Rinoa in a vain attempt to prod her forward. She shrugged him off and made a little sigh. "I....I'm sorry for slapping you, Squall."

He snorted and scratched the back of his head. "Don't worry about it."

She looked at his food, specifically the bacon, and took a slice before he could snatch it away. A small grin appeared on her face, and she sat down across from him. "You're are, like, a total lout, but you're dancing is out of this world."

Squall made it a pledge to only look at his plate and salvage whatever he could from her roaming fingers. "I appreciate that."

"Mmmm... so serious." She lowered her head, causing a strand of her raven hair to fall loosely over her left eye.

It was hard to not look up, but he managed. "We've got a busy next couple of days, Rinoa. We need to be in top shape and spirit."

Rinoa covered her eyes with her hand and slowly shook her head. She then watched him meticulously eat each bite of his meal piece by piece, without saying a word until he was finished. It was kind of interesting to see him slowly become more irritated with each passing moment. Such a complex man in action and words, yet so fucking simple in reading. It had only been roughly two months, but she seemed to know everything about him, because he carried himself with more rigidity than a brick wall. Before he could sputter something sarcastic, she cut him off. "You look like you haven't slept a wink."

That caused him to look at her, and she saw a bit of stunned awareness come over him. He quickly looked away and fidgeted around.

She giggled, a bit mischievously. "Were you thinking about someone last night?"

He caught the bawdy air, but only grunted in response.

"Must've been good," she continued, and Angelo whimpered in approval.

Squall downed his orange juice and then looked at her sternly. "I had a dream again about that Laguna guy."

"From that girl, Ellone?"

"Yes."

"What is this all about? All five of you have talked about it, as if it's some kind of big deal. I have never had these things."

"Well... I think it _is_ a big deal, or else we wouldn't be having it now, would we?" He was annoyed, of course, why wouldn't he be annoyed? But her sly eyes were belying that damn feeling. He rose to leave.

"It won't bum you down again will it?"

He looked at her and churned together several loosely connected thoughts before giving up, shrugging his shoulders, and leaving her with no response.

She watched him go, watched his every movement. "It's good to talk to you again." She heard him mutter _You too_ and smiled big.

He left the Cafeteria and veered steadily towards the ivory tower and took the elevator up to the third floor. He relished the wonderful buzzing sound of the machinery and felt motivated by the plethora of Balamb students diligently working on starting the massive beast up. He proudly swung the golden doors opened and was quite surprised to see Headmaster Cid-- the Supreme Administrator as his new title-- standing fully awake alongside assistant Commander Quistis Trepe, Battle Facilitator Xu Xemnas, and the driver Dylan "Nida" Williams ready at the helm. The LCD screens hovering above the decked-out console panel were cycling between different angles of the northern hemisphere of the Central Ocean as well as screenshots of Alcauld island and the port city of Balamb. Galbadian ships and soldiers were seen milling about.

"Top of the morning to you, Squall!" Cid said joyously.

Squall gave a little wave.

"Good to see ya, Commander!" Nida jibed.

Squall pointed at him. "Don't call me that."

"Aw," Xu chuckled, "it's only a title."

"Besides," Quistis continued, "it gives us another pet name for you besides _Squallie_."

"Oh-ho-ho," Nida mused, "now that's sweet."

"Son of a bitch," Squall muttered, "alright, are we about set to go?"

"Almost there," Quistis said, becoming formal once more. She had a clipboard with her, and she brought it forward for Squall to read. "First, the heirarchy the Headmaster and I went over this morning."

"No sleep, huh?"

"Oh, three hours and an energy drink are totally good for me. Now, the Headmaster is at top of the chain, but he's like the Provost of the place. You are the one that controls everything technically in the Garden."

"Great," he muttered, unenthralled. "Never had that priviledge before."

"That's why Xu and I are your second-in-commands. Vice presidents if you will. She's in charge of logistical training and the magicka department. I'm in charge of coordinating with officials."

"A State department official?"

"Oh yes. A liason for the various friendly governments around town."

"Who's friendly?"

"Balamb and Fisherman's Horizon, of course. Mayor Dobe has offered engineer assistance, if needed."

"Much obliged."

"Plus, the Dollet Dukedom and, for now, Deling City."

"I don't trust that Carroway guy."

"Neither do we. For now, though, he's on our side." She took a sip from the water glass next to her. "Below us is Zell Dincht." She noticed Squall's raised eyebrow. "He's our assistant deputy, plus his fighting skills have improved over the months."

"Fine."

"Hmmph, too serious this morning? Irvine Kinneas is the next-in-line. He will be the lead general of our marksman forces and our long-range artillery. He's opted for use of explosives, but we're not so sure. Have to wait to see what Galbadia does."

"Is our Garden outfitted for that?"

"Oh man," Nida said, "the entire facade pops open to reveal row upon row of Gatling guns, laser rifles, and grenade launchers. The FHers had smuggled out quite a bit of stuff from Esthar per Mayor West's orders. He and Dobe made a joint resolution to grant us the rights to the weapons."

Squall raised his eyebrows, as the SeeD showed him on the LCD screens all the magnificent weaponry available at their use. They stood up a pretty fair fight this time around.

"Selphie's next in the chain," Quistis continued. "She's the second-leading general and in charge of ground forces."

"She's that tough of a cookie?" Squall asked.

"You picked her to head the Missile Base team."

"That was more a forced decision."

"Regardless. The last of our leading figures is Rinoa."

"Pardon?"

"Rinoa Heartilly. I think you know who she is."

"She's not a SeeD, and she's been a major pain this whole fricking time."

"Oh, well, that makes her all the more valuable. She's our press secretary and our organizer. Xu and I have looked into past archives about her, and we both think she is more than qualified at rallying up troop morale."

Squall pressed his forehead hard and realized every argument would be futile. "Fine. Whatever. How many bodies do we have available?"

Xu produced a piece of paper. "Commander, we have all told a hundred SeeDs fit for battle. We're hoping there's some quantity in Balamb port and Dollet. Other than that, we have two hundred students available for training. There are about fifty students suffering from ailments, but Doctor Kadowaki is busy pumping them full of adrenaline pills to alleviate most of their illness."

"Nice."

"Well, then," Headmaster Cid said stretching his back. "Shall we get started early?"

"How long will it take to reach Balamb?" Squall asked.

"The engineers installed power boosters on the underside of the ship. Very complex machinery. It took us four days to reach FH before, it'll only take us a day to reach Balamb now."

Squall whistled, and the other three SeeDs nodded in agreement. Nida clapped his hands once and said, "Let's get started!!" His subordinates on the deck below started immediately turning on equipment.

Cid grabbed the mic. "May I have your attention, students and SeeDs! The Garden is set to depart in no less than ten minutes. Destination: Balamb Port." He looked over at Squall and winked. "Your leader expresses his best wishes unto you all."

Squall rolled his eyes and watched instead the vessel slowly lurch to a start. Outside, the people of Fisherman's Horizon waved brightly colored banners and waved joyfully at the cadets on the outside railing of Balamb Garden, as the giant vessel's boosters fired up. The waves churned, fish danced across the water's surface, and the brightly colored flares on the underbelly brightened to its bluest color. The vessel slowly turned ninty degrees and then boomed across the surface on a fast-moving track north to the island of Alcauld.

* * *

"Ready... aim... FIRE!!!" Irvine's voice was bold and commanding, but the succession of rapid artillery was even more bold. Three dozen battle rifles, high-powered Estharian EF-22s with laser-sighted scopes, ratcheted the beautiful blue skies and tore across the deep azure waters straight into the hearts of clay pigeons. Granted, a quarter of the cadets missed and received a berrating over the head from Irvine's SeeD subordinates. Yet, the reknowned sharpshooter was quite impressed with the first bits of accuracy these whimpy Balamb theater socialites had. He figured some more push-ups and muscle stretches would test their confidence better.

Irvine grinned and made a hand signal for his Level 20 and 15 SeeDs to commence the rigorous training while he took a gander at the FH wares. He was extremely excited about Squall and Xu's repetiore they were able to acquiesce. He knew what Galbadia carried, oh he knew, and he could not admit to anybody before that he was a tad bit nervous about a future confrontation. The G-Army had standard military equipment the kind of which all military contingents had, but the Galbadian SeeDs... wow.. they were non-magic oriented and skilled in blacksmithing and energy weapons. The stories abound that Galbadian merchants smuggled sorceress energy from Esthar; regardless, the SeeDs had fantastic weaponry that even included high-powered motorbikes that could drill down dozens of people without them even bearing their own weapons.

Yet, he had reason to smile big. The tables were even now, and the only thing the Balambers did not have were the motorbikes. Energy swords that could slice a body in half without the blade even touching the skin. Energy-powered shotguns that fired a energy shell and exploded five feet in front of some one with a monstrous grenade effect, taking out everybody in a ten-foot radius. Bikes provided great versalitity, but since they did not have them he felt they had something better: tanks. Galbadia, admittedly, had better ones (read: ones that were able to move), but Balamb's stationary ones were just as deadly.

The situation looked far more promising.

Yet... He grasped a jutting pole from the floor and looked at the weaponry laid out in front of him in the hangar area of the Training Center. They had remodeled most of the Center and removed much of the vegetation now that the damned dinosaur had perished in the Garden civil war. He grasped the pole and had a momentary lapse of depression. He had... a moment of clarity. The Sorceress Edea seemed very near and very far to him, a woman of delicate beauty in a monstrous hide. Why did she seem so familiar? He felt he knew the answer, and yet he was disgusted for even considering the thought. The task had to be done.

Something hit the back of his head, and when he whirled around he saw it was a ball and Selphie was grinning at him. A brand new set of nunchaku was laced to a beautiful golden strap around her shapely waist. She was decked out in a bright orange tank top and tan shorts with regular tennis shoes sporting below.

He couldn't stop his roaming eyes. She was just too damn hot.

She tilted her head, flashed him some pretty white teeth, and giggled. "Got ya mind in the gutter?"

"Kinda hard, not ta," he said sheepishly.

"You silly cowboy." She took off the mace weapon and twirled it nonchalantly in her hand. It looked heavy, but she whirled it like it was a feather to his amazement. "You like it? With my promotion, I'm a Level 25. A very high rank. I was able to plunk down ten thousand gil for the Crescent Wish at the merchant stable in Outer Fisherman's Horizon. Someone was able to snatch a fang from a dragon, along with a bladed spike from a Centran Death Claw. They poured some magicka juice onto the blade itself, casting a bright yellow glow to its shine. It's very sharp and heavy in the hilt, but I'm a big girl. I know what to do with these things."

"I bet," he laughed.

She socked him in the stomach and turned to their recruits. "How are they doing?" She was greatly amused at the less-than-stellar push-ups being implemented.

"I hope we don't get into a skirmish tomorrow at Balamb."

"That bad?"

"They're.... getting there."

She laughed slightly and slowly walked out, assessing the crowd. She was greatly amused that most of the males lacked discipline in not trying to look up at her tits. Each one received a smack on their wrists from the blunt end of the Wish, and discipline was enacted. Irvine watched her every movement and felt himself extremely lucky.

* * *

"A press secretary?" Rinoa asked, confusion twitching her face.

"Sure, why not?" Xu asked. "You're good at fulfilling the charisma to other people. I mean, look at what you're doing to Squall."

"Oh, that's a different story," she replied, a bit annoyed.

"Well, the truth of the matter is is that you're not a SeeD, but you do have fighting experience. So, you're kind of a special case."

"Xu, I don't need to be a SeeD to defend myself."

"Quite right. That's why you're part of our reserved force. For now, your organizing skills blow us out of the water. We realize that first attempt to kidnap and corner the now-deceased President Deling ended up in a fiasco, but that wasn't entirely your fault."

The paper detailing the event was on the desk in Xu's office, which now had been fully incorporated into Rinoa's care. The newly-annointed Battle Facilitator was now moving into a more plusher office on the third floor next to Cid and Squall. Rinoa liked her room and had made ample use already at putting lots of baby blue colors everywhere. Angelo had made a home for himself in the corner and had fallen asleep.

Rinoa looked at the paper. "How much do you guys know about the Forest Owls?"

"More than enough to be satisfied."

The princess looked at Xu warily. "Do you know about _my_ past?"

"That you ran away at fourteen and survived a rape at fifteen by almost fatally stabbing that Deling senator?"

Rinoa cringed. "Oh, I didn't want to remember that."

"You know, you have an extreme aversion to violence sometimes, yet you don't hesitate to act in it when the time affects you."

Rinoa swallowed a bit. "Things are different in the moment."

"That's why you are in our reserved force."

The two women laughed a bit and returned to organizing draft sheets and press orders for the citizens of Dollet and Deling City. Below their second-floor office, Quistis was walking out with Dr. Kadowaki onto the main circular disc where the fifty ill students were getting some photogenic treatment. Kadowaki had discovered over the years of her medical profession that the Sun had healing powers. What was thought to be only the stuff of legend was actually a true science. The light of the Sun's rays could mix in the patient's bloodstream and restore their red blood cells. The trick was to rotate them out consecutively every hour or so, as well as pump their bloodstream with some healing injections.

The former instructor was visibly happy with the results, and she was prepared to give a proper report for Rinoa to file. For the time being the good doctor had an Estharian peacepipe purchased from FH, and Quistis was eager to have some good tasting green. Both women lighted up and took turns exhaling the sweet purplish-tinted smoke.

"Are you excited?" Kadowaki asked.

Quistis choked on some smoke. Having slipped into a very good dream, the good doctor had inadvertently wrenched her out of it. "About what?"

"About the impending war, silly."

"Oh... oh no, no. There's gonna be too much loss of life."

"That's to be expected unfortunately. I wish, actually, that Cid, Martine, and Rafeal would work out their differences."

"Martine? From G-Garden? I thought he was just a figurehead. Edea controls Galbadian issues."

"Yes, I know that. But Martine still controls the Galbadian SeeDs, who are more than a threat than the G-Army."

Quistis gave the pipe to Kadowaki and thought about that for a minute. "Is he directly cooperating with Edea? Can we possibly break a link there?"

"Oh, I doubt that. Not even Rinoa's charming personality could break that man's spell. The incident six weeks ago in Deling City with the Sorceress's threatened assassination only sharpened the political stakes for him. I doubt Sir Martine Helmsley is in any move for consolidation."

"Well," Quistis replied, accepting the pipe along with breathing in some of Kadowaki's smoke, "that's a damn shame for him. I won't hesitate to make him pay if I see him."

"Vindictive, Quistis? That's surprising to me."

"He used Irvine for his own purposes, but that's alright. That cowboy can be a bit of a hassle. Martine used Squall poorly, though, and look what happened to him."

"Hmm. I'm sure you took a good hard look."

Quistis held the pipe inches from her lips, a look of astonishment in her eyes. "Madam, whatever do you mean by that?"

Kadowaki laughed. "I think it's cute that Squall has two admirers, and he doesn't even know about it."

The astonished look melted instantly into a twisted despondent form. "Oh, you mean _her_ and myself."

"Now don't act like you two are pariahs or something."

"It's hard to reach into his _trust_. His mind's easy to read."

"True, true. That's definitely true. Listen, there are plenty of other men out there, you know."

"What? I'm not into him!" She almost dropped the peacepipe, and she was aware that some of the patients were looking at her.

"Oh really?" the doctor replied coyly. "Alright, I'm not here to make you mad. Sure, he's probably not interested."

_That_ hit a button. Quistis limply held the pipe and stared off toward the campus greens. She didn't even see Kadowaki take it from her grasp. "Well... what if he doesn't?"

"If I can read you correctly, and I think I can, you look like you're trying to fill a void not only in his heart, but in yours."

".........How so?"

"Well, both of you are orphans, and as far as I know you two don't have siblings. You're older than him by almost a full year. You might be trying to fill the void of older sister, nurturing mother, and supportive lover all in one package."

Quistis looked at her unsympathetically at first, fighting hard against the words and not at first making total sense of their meaning. The gravity of the statement eventually made its presence known, and she averted her gaze to the ground.

"Don't be overzealous in the approach, Quisty. You and I have been friends for almost a decade. I look to you as the younger sister I never had. I don't know personally why Squall acts like...like," (she glanced sideways for a second) "like a total asshole sometimes."

Both women laughed, and some of the spark flirted back on Quistis's face.

Kadowaki furthered. "Rinoa's this cheerful little sprite, and I'm not trying to be negative about that. It's her character, it's her charm. I don't know why, it's just how she carries herself. Believe me, you have charm but of a different kind. A more serious kind, which I personally find more admirable. Picture this, though, you and Squall together, married even. Two serious-minded people not having any fun, fighting mad over supercilious stuff."

Quistis thought of that, and the image was bitter but real.

"I think," the doctor continued, "that you two would have beautiful babies, if you could get Squall to do it. Yet, we cannot deny that Squall's behavior seems more allocated to a polar opposite, and his future progeny would likely come from that. Let's face it: Rinoa and Squall are nothing alike."

"Yeah."

"My guess is the seeds have already been sown. It's just a matter of time before the farmer decides to grow it."

Both of them were silent for a long time. They stood there and felt the wind on their face and did not say a word. The Sun was warm and relaxing. "What should I do then?" Quistis asked.

Kadowaki dumped the rest of the snuff out of the pipe and pocketed it. "What do _you_ want to do?"

"I want to make him happier."

"Hm. That'll take some work."

"I've never shied away from a job before."

"Indeed you have not." The good doctor wrapped an arm around the younger girl's shoulders. "Come, let's get something to eat."

* * *

Mila watched him perform his latest martial arts skills with a keen fascination. She wondered at times why she liked him so much, for the rest of her friends within the Library had mocked the very thought of it. Sure, he had an enormous tattoo on his face of something that _she_ wasn't even sure what it was. Sure, he had hair that badly needed a comb. Sure, he couldn't color-code his clothes correctly. Sure, he was overly-enthusiastic. But.....

She watched him again. He pummeled the air with his fists, as if a punching bag was immediately before him. Every punch was succinct and quick; he made light snorts from his mouth at each point of contact his fists made with the air. A dozen succinct punches followed by a tight roundhouse kick and a nasty heel drop. The ground felt a small repercussion from the impact of his heel drop. He then paused long and curled his hand in a tight fist. Small strands of electricity encompassed his grip, and he sighed once and flipped in a circle smashing his fist into the ground. A burning rave, it created a small crater in the grass. He saw her excited gaze, and Zell Dincht only laughed dumbly and did some stretching moves. He flipped open his knapsack he had on the ground and looked at the magical orbs his group had obtained upon their return from the Missile Base.

Meteor orbs.

He had read some issues of _Combat King_, this fan-oriented rag from Timber Maniacs, that explained how one could customize magic with certain fighting gloves to create some devastating combos. In particular, the meteor magicka could create the Meteor Strike attack which rained down a small hail of rocks and boulders onto the opponent with one smashing fist into the ground. The Meteor Barret was also available, but that required some extra dexterity. The fighter had to be able to concentrate exclusively, leap into the air, and hone all his strength into his hands. He then would slam into the ground with the force of a nuclear explosion that would decimate the enemy that was harassing him. Zell figured he would probably have to work on that one.

"These daggers you gave me," her voice broke his reverie. He turned to look at her admiring the blades. "I don't know if I'll have the stomach to use these."

"Did you practice this morning?"

"Somewhat, yes."

"Show me."

She looked at him and gulped. Yet, she suddenly realized why she liked him so much. His sympathy. His caring eyes. She knew that he knew that she hadn't practiced, yet the tutorship was there. She need not be afraid to fail. She got up and remembered the ready position.

He came up to fix her slender arms in the right spots. "Just a little lower, there. Now what's the first move."

"A right hook."

"_Left_."

"Right," she said and hooked the left one in a slick move. The next was a right jab, and she did it-- albiet a little stiffly.

He nodded. "Together."

She made a left hook, followed by a right jab, and then a spinning circle with both blades spiralling around and slashing in two directions. She kept the position and was surprised as hell.

"Not bad," he said sincerely.

She turned to look at him and marvelled at the sight of his blue-gray eyes. He, in turn, tried hard to remain serious upon looking at her gorgeous figure. "Are you ready for this?" she asked.

"I'm always ready."

"Of course you are."

"Milena, everything will work out the way it's supposed to."

"So many people are going to die."

"They won't on our side."

"What about there's?"

He stopped to briefly consider that for a moment.

"Are you not concerned about Galbadia's losses?" she asked.

"After all I've been through, I'm tempted to say yes."

"The military knows no better, but what of the civilians?"

Civilians. They were always there, no matter what incursion. He remembered the Dollet Dukedom field assignment. He remembered the hapless killings during the failed assassination mission. He remembered the explosion of D-District Prison. He didn't personally see but he knew indirectly the devastation of Trabia Garden and the civil war here in Balamb Garden. Civilians were always the chumps who lost the most. "I don't know, Milena, whatever we do someone will lose. The question is how to limit the death."

She nodded and looked away.

He brought her chin back up to him. "One thing I know is both of us will still be around to talk afterwards."

She held his hand there and smiled. "Good."

* * *

"Goddamit, Squall!" Mackwell Blunt cursed vehemently, coughing on his cigar smoke. He had just lost, badly, again in Triple Triad. So badly in fact that he did not even turn over one of Squall's cards. He now entered into an amazing coughing fit that he couldn't stop.

Squall stared at the boy while he practically died on his smoke, and a grin slowly formed on his face. Finally, after Mr. Blunt appeared to really be having some trouble, Squall found his inhalor (yes, the irony of this is sickening!) and forced air into the boy's lungs. Mack coughed and sputtered and looked into Squall's indifferent eyes.

"Mack," the gunblader said blandly, "no more fucking cigars. Ever."

"Y-Y-Yes, sir."

"And hone up on your card skills, alright. This is like only my fourth time ever playing, you know."

"Yes, sir."

"It's midnight now, we've got roughly six or seven hours before we come across Balamb, so get some sleep. Talk to Kadowaki if you need some energy pills, alright?"

"Yes, sir." The dishelved boy clumsily got up, took another swig of his inhalor, and left a barely-restrained Squall. The gunblader just couldn't understand how some people could act so strange.

A flyer caught his sleepy eye on the wall: a notice for the impending Triple Triad tournament. A prize list opened his sleepy eye to a more alert stage, and he rushed over to it. As he read upwards, he saw the prizes ranging from bits of gil to stuffed animals to books to something blocked out in question marks. That was read _The Ultimate Prize_. Curse his luck. Foiled again.

He didn't understand why this silly game intrigued him so, but he had found out earlier in the day that tons of people on the campus were playing in it. He had also found out that a certain gang of champions calling them the CC Gang, or Card Champion Gang, roamed the corridors looking for potential stars to beat their King who apparantly toppled the previous King over three years ago.

_Damn.. that shows my lack of attention there._

In actuality, the game had been played on campus for almost six years now, but just a month ago Squall had run across it for the first time. Now that the Guardians and NORG were defeated, the card game seemed to be proliferatiing more and more frequently than ever before. The underground had thus been razed.

Squall left the Library, surprisingly the safest haven for card games, and ventured out onto the circular disc. At this late hour, cadets and SeeDs were still training. With the lack of light, Irvine's artillery unit had been morphed with Selphies CQC unit, and the campus greens had row upon row of students doing some above-average performance. Yet, sleep was a necessity. Who knew what lay ahead of them tomorrow.

The commander whistled. "Kinneas, Timitt. Wrap this up!"

"Aye, sir!" both of them responded with a wink at his aversion to formality.

He watched them expertly herd them up into a tight formation and rememberd the days when he was training for SeeD. His commander at the time, Mr. Stryker, had perished in the Dollet Dukedom disaster, but his legacy reverberated across the legion of students. A plaque of his self had been hung in the auditorium assembly of the Training Center, although it had been damaged within the fighting. The FH techicians had brought in preservationists and they were able to salvage the bulk of it. Still, his spirit remained here regardless of portraits and busts.

Squall walked back to his dorm room. There was a cot in his third floor office, but he wanted some alcohol, and that was in his fridge in his dorm. While it would be feasible to get one beer and bring it back to the ivory tower, the reality of _that_ occurrence was laughable beyond all measure.

Indeed, he locked the door at 12:15 AM.

He was drunk at 12:30.

* * *

Ah, the sound of the intercom. "Squall Leonhart, report to the brig immediately!" Oh, Cid was charming sometimes.

Squall looked at his clock and saw it was barely six. His head was reeling, but luckily for him a handy little syringe filled with a shiny green liquid lay on his desk. An adrenaline shot. He considered it lucky and a curse all in one; he knew what it did. He sat slowly up from the bed and felt the swaying seasickness affect his brain. Grabbing the syringe he applied it to his arm and felt the liquid go in. He tensed as his muscles reacted and his bloodstream was invigorated. If he could see his face, he would see his pupils shrink then expand then slowly turn back to normal. His skin would change colors to almost a blueish gray before settling back to his normal apricot. A warm steam escaped the pores of his skin, and he seriously needed to use the restroom.

He cleaned himself up and left the room, gunblade in tow, all the alcohol drenched from his system. A thousand gil per syringe. Must use wisely.

He quickly made his way up the ivory tower and opened the great golden doors with pride. Rinoa, Quistis, Zell, Selphie, and Irvine looked at his entrance and were actually taken aback by his enthusiastic zeal. Cid, Xu, and Nida likewise felt the same, but the Commander wanted none of that. The open view of the glass cockpit showed Alcauld in the distance. A sea of gray ships were small blips on the outside coast. Balamb Garden was some five miles away from the island, and the tension was thick.

"Our dear Commander," Cid said warmly.

Squall looked at the old man's congenial face.

"We've received a wire from a high-ranking officer in their forces. He's requested a video linkup."

Squall indicated to Nida to hand him a smoke. He felt that would add to the image. "Put this man on."

As Nida lit one up for him, Squall saw a blue cyclical image form out of a transmitter, and a general popped up. "Ah, Commander Leonhart, I presume."

Squall blew out some smoke and grunted. "You presume correct."

"Splendid. Brigadier General Waxcomb of the 15th Infantry division. The 13th and the 14th are also stationed here, Mr. Leonhart. The other twelve are stationed on the continent but are available upon disposal. I hope you know this."

The Waxcomb avatar coming off the transmitter resembled a stubby character in an impeccable uniform-- the prickish kind that resembled General Carroway except a lot less tall and formidable. Squall blew another smoke, more irritated. "How many people to a division?"

"A hundred, sir. Plus whatever's in Garden."

The cigarette stayed in his mouth, and his eyes widened to a serious concerned expression. His five friends did a double-take, and Headmaster Cid looked ready to pass a kidney stone.

"Yes, Leonhart," Waxcomb said with a hint of glee. "Galbadia Garden went mobile three days after the launching of the missiles at Trabia and Balamb. Per Sir Seifer's orders and at the behest of Her Majesty Sorceress Edea. The administration's top brass is currently on that campus, protected by five hundred well-armed SeeDs and another five hundred militants. We've got hyper cannons mounted on all four sides of the campus, two dozen energy lasers with three rounds each of energy source-- and if you know what an energy source is, sir, it is enough to fire a hundred lasers-- five mounted machine guns on ten different pillars, and last but not least a plethora of assault rifles at the disposal of each militant and energy swords at the disposal of every SeeD."

"Fuck," Irvine said, taking off his fedora and wincing hard.

The other four joined Xu and Nida in an open-mouthed gape. Squall let the cigarette burn out without taking another puff and was unaware of dropping it to the floor.

"Leonhart, I know you're young and I'm very surprised by dear Mr. Kramer's infalliable judgment call, but I do believe you look positively ready to shit your pants right about now." A small chuckle emitted out of him.

Cid came into his view. "Now, General, I implore you to respect my judgment. It has never been wrong before."

"Indeed it has not, Mr. Kramer, but there is always a first time for everything now."

"General Waxcomb," Squall began in a less-than-stellar voice, "we have maybe three hundred and fifty bodies compared to your thirteen hundred. Balamb Port is a safe town. We wish to keep it that way."

"I'm sure you do. We're not about to do anything anyway."

"I bet you're not."

"Hm. Quite observant. We are looking for a certain person. Yet, this port offers a good advantage point. We plan to stay for the time being."

Squall took a look at each of his companions. They seemed to be waiting for a sincere response. "Who are you looking for?"

"I dunno, I forget the name right now. Edea says sh--I mean this person is a VIP or something. I'm just interested in burning the majority of the place down and creating a lookout fortress."

"Bullshit!" Zell said violently lurching forward and prompting the others to look at him.

"Under polite circumstances, General Waxcomb," Cid said, "I suggest that that would not be a good idea."

"Why?" He had an indignant pall come over his voice. "The burning only commences per the three leader's say. Even then, there must be sufficient resident support for an anti-burn act." He scoffed. "Like you all have any residents on that ship."

"I'm a damn resident!" Zell shouted, unable to control the tempo.

"Easy, Zell," Squall said.

"Fuck that shit. Listen, you," he yelled at the General, "this is my hometown, and I demand to speak to your leader."

"Egad," Waxcomb said with a disgusted turn of his nose, as the tattooed face of Zell came into focus.

"Yes, Waxy, you like what you see, huh? Want this on your fac--"

"Enough, goddammit!" Squall yelled.

The entire body around him looked at him with surprised expressions. He ignored them all and brought Zell away from the transmitter. "General Waxcomb, let this man and myself enter the city and speak with your leader."

Waxcomb was silent for a minute. He turned to the side to look at something and then turned back. "Your ship is approaching at too fast a clip. Slow it down to thirty knots and dock at Coordinate forty-five on the Rinauld Coast. It's just half a mile from the eastern entrance to the city. I'll meet you down there. Make sure it's you two and only you two. There are thirteen hundred of us." He clicked off his end.

Zell smashed a fist into the console desk. "How in the world can we trust him, Squall? He's got a fucking armada with him--"

"Zell!" Squall yelled, with an ire unseen by most besetting his eyes, "You need to calm yourself!"

"With all due respect, Squall, I will not let them burn my town down."

"They won't," the Commander breathed angrily. "Ellone's not here. Plus, I think I know who the leader is."

A knowing look befell the brawler, and he let Squall handle the matter. Nida eased off the gas, and the bulky craft slowed down to the recommended thirty knots. The island was coming much closer, and more naval power came into view. Three large destroyers flanked by several dozen frigates were docked on the Rinauld Coast. However, the biggest eyesore collapsing atop the city was the atrocious fire-engine red hue of Galbadia Garden. The dragon flask, the horned reptile backbone, the pompous red pepper of a death machine hovered above the ground between one of the island's forests and the eastern entrance to the port. The gates were open, and row upon row of SeeDs lay encircled around the landlocked areas of the city. There was so much mass of bodies that the lush green fields were barely able to be seen.

"Squall," Irvine asked, "are you sure about this?"

"More than sure. The G-Army lacks intelligence to discern such matters. We deliver a message to the leadership that this port city belongs to us. Besides, there have been more than enough displaced citizens around this globe. We don't need anymore."

"Well, that means that we need to go with you. Least of all things, _I_ go with you. I have political experience with these Galbadians."

"I would take you, Irvine, but the situation is not in our favor. They've got itchy trigger fingers."

Irvine chewed on that. "Then take this." He handed him a flare gun. "If the shit hits the fan, we attack with all we got. I'm not taking 'no' for an answer on this."

Squall took one look at it and shook his head. "You all are too persistent sometimes." He took it and placed it inside his jacket. Looking once at Zell's ready face, he nodded towards Cid and Nida, the latter of whom steered close to Coordinate Forty-five and opened the gates.

* * *

Both SeeDs walked out, and they were greeted by at least a hundred machine guns. Cocked, locked, and ready to blow their cocks off the G-Army was fully loaded. General Waxcomb brought his five-foot-one self over into their view and looked at them with a massive sneer. "SeeDs of Balamb, welcome to Balamb Port."

Squall and Zell did not respond. Zell, however, could not resist his emotions mangling his facial expressions.

Waxcomb looked at Squall. "You are the Commander."

"That's right, sir. Commander Squall Leonhart. SeeD Level 30."

"Ooh, a top dog. And you," he said indicating the brawler, "the ... obscene one."

"Zell Dincht, SeeD Level 28. Deputy Assistant."

"And a resident of Balamb Port. Dincht, eh? Your mother and adopted sisters live in the Central Square?"

"That's right!"

"Hm. Well. You should be interested to know that they are still safe and sound. As of this moment. They're still in the Central Square. Your mother is a tough cookie at times, and the elder sister is quite a hot bitch."

Zell was about to start again, but Squall placed a hard hand on his shoulder. The force was enough to calm him down. "Since he is a citizen, and I am the Commander of these forces, I implore you I need to speak to your leader. We actually have a specific message regarding this particular person you are searching for."

"Like you know who she is," Waxcomb laughed.

"Ellone?"

The laugh died immediately, and the G-Army appeared to grow nervous. "You know her," Waxcomb asked.

"Very well."

The General regarded the two of them with great suspicion, but the idea of a plausible message was quite intriguing. "Well, go ahead into the city. The Balamb Hotel is the primary headquarters."

"Will do, General."

Waxcomb addressed his troops. "Let them pass."

The lines parted, and Squall looked at Zell who nodded in affirmation, and both Balamb SeeDs made their way through the sea of gray Army suits and black Galbadian SeeD outfits. No violence had thus far been enacted, but several residents of the six thousand-man city were milling about the entrance of the port. Massive tanks and humvees blocked the entrance and lined the sides of the inner streets, but a radio call alerted them of the SeeD's presence, and they made way for Squall and Zell.

The Balamb residents looked at them with pleading eyes, but Zell immediately signalled to them that all was well. Squall was amazed that Zell's flamboyant personality triggered recognizable admiration from each of the citizens. The Flame Sabre was at his hip, and Zell had his Maverick gloves primed. They each had a bit of blizzard, fire, and lightning magic and Zell had some meteor tricks. Squall had Quetzacotyl and Diablos. Zell had Ifrit and Shiva. If worse came to worse, the two of them could take on quite a bit before the flare gun went off.

There were only three main streets in Balamb with several smaller routes gridlocked in between. Soldiers and some rows of SeeDs were swarmed along all the routes, and every building in the city had a machine gun nest on the roof. Squall and Zell were peppered with red dots, the ends of which they knew bullets came out of. Squall, at least, expected the nonsense from the blugus. Zell, seemed to be keeping his cool, though who knew how long that would last? Out of the corners of their eyes, they could see curtains pull back with inquiring faces peering out the windows. The faces were scared and probing, and Zell seemed to grow more tense. Squall placed a hand again on his shoulder, and the brawler once again relented.

Yet, something once again intrigued him. They had entered the Central Square. The Balamb Hotel was only three blocks down along the bend overlooking the ocean, but Zell saw his mother's house loom up. Soldiers were patrolling near it, and a sniper was perched atop the roof with a gun trained on them. A Galbadian officer with a colonel insignia walked up to them. "State your business and keep walking, sirs."

"Squall, please," Zell asked, motioning with his head to the house.

Squall inwardly sighed. It would be fruitless to argue with someone so hellbent on a particular thing. "Sir," he addressed the colonel, "this house is dear to our time here. I assure you, this won't impede our message."

The colonel looked at each of them slowly. "Five minutes." He signalled to the sniper to lay off, and the two SeeDs entered the house.

"Ma! I'm home!!" the brawler yelled frantically. A look of desperation was on his face, as if he was going to lose something extremely valuable. He looked this way and that, but the kitchen and dining area that greeted them was empty. The rooms were a little trashed up, as if the Galbadians had done a raid on the place. Zell looked at Squall with a deplorable expression, prompting the Commander to be a little nervous about what to say. Some whimpering snapped Zell's head to the open doorway leading to the living room, and he made a beeline there. The living room seemed empty at first, but the brawler saw the tops of three heads peeking just above the sofa. "Ma! It's me Zell!"

The matron of the house slowly lifted her head. A look of relief and great surprise overcame her. The other two heads popped up, Zell's adopted sister and brother. Both of them looked at Zell with a mix of surprise and wonder. It had been a while since they had last seen him. Zell's mother asked, "Zell! How on earth did you get in here?!?"

Both hugged each other for a long time, and Zell couldn't force back some tears. The damn Galbadians had hit too close to home. "Easy enough, ma. We just said we had some info on Ellone, and it was as easy as pie to get in."

They heard Squall's sigh, and they turned to look at him trying to cover himself up. "Who's this, Zell?" his mother asked.

"Oh, this is Squall. Squall Leonhart. He's the Commander of Balamb Garden."

Squall winced at his title, but he knew that was a well-trodden road. He saw her approach him. "I'm glad you are taking care of Zell, Mr. Squall. You seem capable of taking these men on."

"Oh, ma, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I know, Zell. Still, the more help you have the more I feel better."

"I appreciate that, Ms. Dincht," Squall said. "I'm on my way to speak to their leader about this person they want, and then I'll make sure they are on their way."

"And I appreciate that. But, please, don't cause any disturbances. The soldiers have threatened to burn the city down, as per their... Sorceress's orders."

"Hmmph. Is Edea here?"

"Personally....I don't really know what she looks like. A lot of Balambers here don't really care about western politics. There is a woman here, though, a young petite woman with premature gray hair and a patch over her eye."

Squall and Zell exchanged knowing looks.

"You know this girl?" Ma Dincht asked.

"I'm afraid we do. This only makes the situation that more interesting."

"Don't worry, ma! No harm will befall this city on my watch."

"I know I can always count on your enthusiasm," she said and gave him another warm hug. His two siblings hugged him as well, and he followed Squall out the door and back into the city. The colonel and his men were out there to watch them depart, and they annoyingly pointed the way to the Hotel.

Zell inched closer to Squall. "How much do you trust them not to gun us down?"

"About as far as I can throw you, Zell."

The forcefulness of the answer stunned the brawler, so he decided not to ask any further questions. For his family's sake, it was probably best not to have any confrontation-- a concept quite unfamiliar to his ideals.

The street sloped downwards towards the piers once the Hotel came into view, and the commercial shopping district would normally have been crowded at this early morning hour with street vendors, shopowners, and delicatessans going to and fro. Hundreds of armed guards milled about, raiding houses and strip-searching certain residents they had suspicions about. The same would have been done to them if they didn't have a "message" on Ellone to give.

Seven snipers guarded the rooftop of the three-story Hotel, and one sniper a piece lay perched on all the buildings surrounding it. If Ma Dincht was correct, Raijin and Fujin definitely did not need _this_ special treatment. Or.... did they? _Come to think of it,_ Squall suddenly thought, _where did those two nitwits go anyway?_ They had been fighting with him when the factions of Garden broke out over a week ago, and then suddenly they vanished from sight. Doctor Kadowaki had reported to him earlier that they had come into the Infirmary to get some supplies, and then they left and never came back. The description of gray hair and an eyepatch fit perfectly, but he figured he was in for a surprise.

Two Galbadian SeeDs guarded the front doors. With their presence, the quaint Hotel seemed forbidden and deeply hostile.

"Balamb SeeDs, eh?" one of them asked in a deeply suspicious tone.

Squall sighed. These guys were tough opponents compared to the nervous and fidgety G-Army snipers and troopers marching around. He knew not just from Irvine, who was a valuable source of information on these matters, but from previous records that the Galbadian SeeDs were the toughest human forces on earth. He couldn't help suppress a grin at the thought of challenging them in the very near future. "Yes, we are, cadet." Both the young men had insignias on their full battle dress indicating them ten ranks below him. Both Gardens used the same SeeD system, which Squall found very interesting but unable to explain why that was so.

"Prove it. Plains-clothes SeeDs are never permitted in our premises."

Squall and Zell exchanged a confused look and realized they were up against a brick wall. They stiffened to attention and did their signature salute-- the right hand coming straight as a board to their right eye in a closed fist, palm side toward the face.

"Aye, SeeD," the spoken G-SeeD droned.

The other SeeD spoke up. "We received a wire through our earpiece. You two say you have a message regarding... Ellone."

Squall brought his salute down and Zell did the same. "I would prefer to discuss that with Fujin instead."

Both Galbadian SeeDs stiffened. "How dare you speak the Commander's name in such a patronizing tone."

"Listen," Squall said briskly, "I know I'm outgunned here, but I know exactly who the fuck she is, and you can kiss my ass. _Our_ information is primarily for the Sorceress to hear herself, but her closest underlings I guess will be the middlemen."

He could sense Zell's awed look on him, but he was more concerned and delighted by the astonished and nervous looks overcome the Galbadian's faces. The second SeeD had clammed up tight, and he looked on the verge of shitting his pants. The initial SeeD who had spoken looked at his comrade and then back at Squall. "The Commander's office is only available for information on Ellone. None of the residents here have offered anything substantial, much less beneficial to _their_ safety anyway. Why should we believe your rumors?"

His comrade nudged him closer and spoke in his ear. "We'll get a salary cut if we let them in without proper confirmation."

"You think I don't know that, you shithead."

"I'm just saying that now that the Sorceress has taken control of Garden, the G-Army's rules have now infiltrated our own corps."

"You wanna be on _her_ bad side?"

"Hell no, I'm just say--"

Zell slammed his foot on the ground, startling even Squall. "By Eden, we have top secret info on Ellone. Bring this commander bitch out here right now!!"

Squall heard distant clicks of sniper rifles train on them. Gently, he pressed the flare gun against his skin and wondered if he could possibly get a flare off without receiving a bullet in the process.

The two Galbadian SeeDs looked around at their armada, but they didn't seem any calmer. "You must get permission first from the Captain. He handles all the procedural duties here."

"The Captain?!" Zell balked.

"Raijin, Zell," Squall said.

"What? You know him, too?" the initial G-SeeD asked.

Squall could not believe what he was hearing. "You can't really be this stupid."

"It cannot be helped."

Squall levelled his eyes with the SeeD and stared at him for several moments. "Where is the Captain?"

"It's the Captain's nap ti--" the second SeeD received a hit to his gut from the first.

"Er.. the Captain is--"

"--Right here, ya know!"

Squall and Zell snapped their heads to the right with great surprise. The burly dark-skinned failed SeeD candidate came trotting up to them all happy and merry with a big bundle of fish slung over his shoulder. His dangerous quarterstaff was strapped onto his back and bounced effortlessly as he made his way in almost a hop and a skip to the four men standing in front of the entrance. He had a large, shit-eating grin on his face, and he apparantly didn't recognize the two Balamb SeeDs until he got within a foot of them.

He was so surprised he dropped his bundle of fish. "Ho--ly shit!!"

The snipers on the roofs lowered their weapons but remained crouched. The troops on the ground slowly backed away from the Hotel. The two Galbadian SeeDs looked between the three men and slowly vacated their spot as well. Raijin, Squall, and Zell maintained a staunch silent standoff between each other. Raijin's fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of his staff, and his mind was racing together multiple thoughts. As was usually the case whenever his mind had more than one thought he became confused. Thus, he was really confused now.

"What ya guys doing here, ya know?"

"Same question," Squall said sternly. "Is Seifer here with you two as well. The Sorceress as well?"

"Who wants ta know?"

"The entire campus of Balamb Garden is just outside the gates of this city."

Raijin looked across the span. "Not bad, ya know."

"Goddammit, I wish you'd stop saying that!" Zell snapped.

Raijin grunted. "I wish you didn't have that nasty-looking tattoo on your face. You look like some cheap hooker raped your face or something."

Squall raised an eyebrow, while Zell cracked the knuckles on both his hands and laced them with his Maverick gloves. The Meteor orbs were glistening in the bright morning light. Squall gently pushed Zell aside. "You seem a little cocky today, Raijin, but allow me to get straight to the point. You are the Captain, right?"

"Damn right."

"Fujin's the Commander?"

"Damn right."

"Well, take me in to see her."

Raijin held out his hand. "Wait a minute, are you the ones who had a so-called 'message' describing that Ellone girl?"

"There is no message. That was just a ploy to get us in here."

"Hm. Clever, Squall, ya know. Ya using yer head on that one."

"We're here to get you all the fuck out of Balamb. Now, please, I know personally you and her are not that much of cutthroats. You don't want any of these citizens to be homeless here, do you?"

"Me and Fu aren't heartless, you say?"

"Exactly."

Raijin laughed. "I admire your implications, Squall." He studied both of them for several minutes before suddenly brandishing his quarterstaff. He whirled it around menacingly, creating loud reverberations in the wind. "Yet, you two underestimate the possibilities."

"Possibilities of what, you piece of shit!" Zell shouted.

Swords sliced out of their sheathes, and both he and Squall looked behind them to see four dozen Galbadian swordsmen advance slowly up to them, sharp as hell swords at the ready.

"The possibilities of meeting an untimely end, ya know," Raijin chortled.

Squall quickly brought out the flare gun. "Raijin, we Balambers are outnumbered, but so help me god I will set this off, and we'll have one bitch of a fight here. A shitload of people will die on your watch!" The swordsmen behind him stopped advancing, confused at the new gesture. The snipers trained their sights on him, peppering his body with red dots, waiting for the order. Squall relaxed his breathing and narrowed his eyes at the visibly stunned Raijin.

The quarterstaff-wielder was once again put on the spot, and in all that pressure he would have given the order to strike. Except the Hotel doors opened revealing the one-eyed woman herself.

"RAGE!!"

Raijin sheathed his staff, and the entire G-Army sheathed their weapons. Squall looked around him and put back his flare gun.

"SQUALL!!"

He looked at her, and she beckoned him in before departing into the abyss of the hotel. Squall looked at both Zell and Raijin, and they trailed him into the Hotel. The interior of the building was still its aquamarine color, but the hapless Galbadians had trashed parts of the lobby and broken some of the windows. A table with notarized documents littered atop it was propped next to the receptionist's desk, and Fujin was seated at it, a pen in her hand and one stuck behind her ear.

"MESSAGE?"

"No message, Fujin."

She looked up at Squall with an irritated stare.

"Not about Ellone."

"WHAT?"

"They want us to leave, Fu!" Raijin snorted.

Fujin made a sickening laugh. It sounded like bones cracking. "NEVER."

"We know personally that Ellone is not here," Squall said.

"HOW?"

"She was captured by an unknown fleet in Winhill." That part was true, even though it was about seventeen years old.

"CAPTURED?"

"Yes, our reports depict them as Estharians."

"Ooh..." Raijin muttered, "that's gonna piss Edea off."

"YES."

"I've already told Raijin. You two are fighters, but you're not interested in harming this city. Hell, you two had regular weekend parties down at the Wharf and over on Seventh Street." He saw Fujin's eye avert his gaze, seeming to recollect the past. "There are over six thousand people here who are happy and content and never seem to deal with western or eastern politics. They don't need any shit Galbadia Garden or Balamb Garden throws at them." He watched the malice that had develop in her eye simmer away into the normal compassion she routinely portrayed. "I'm not asking for much Fujin, but if this is Seifer's doing dragging you two in this mess, then please for the love of Eden do not go further!"

Raijin hiccuped at the mention of Seifer's name, and Fujin made a nasty guttural sound.

"DAMN YOU."

"Yeah, Squall," Raijin agreed, "Seifer is our friend. Whatever he does, we do. Ya know?"

Squall slowly looked at him. "No. I don't. Enlighten me, please."

Again they stared at each, menacing and piercing. "Squall, he is Edea's Knight. A force beyond anything matched in a Garden's SeeD unit, ya know."

"Seifer is but a man, and men have their weaknesses."

"Weaknesses? Sure. Then, what's yours?" He didn't wait for Squall to answer. His hand thrust out and blazed Squall's body with a fire spell and Zell's body with a horrible electrical spell. Zell's chest crackled from the heat and he slammed into a flowerpot next to the staircase. Squall remained standing, but he staggered back a couple of feet. Raijin unsheathed his quarterstaff that was a four-foot golden rod laced with heavy powder on both blunt ends. He slammed one end hard into Squall's stomach and flung the SeeD through a window. Squall's back was cut up in three places from the glass, and he bounced twice on the pavement outside. The Galbadian SeeDs and army troops backed further away from the Hotel. They could've stayed and fought, but they were more interested in seeing a battle rather than partaking this early in the game.

Zell coughed up some blood, before wiping his mouth. He eyed Raijin with hatred, as the burly cadet spun his quarterstaff in a massive arc over and over. Fujin watched him advance slowly toward Zell and took in every inch of her companion for all his worth. Once this little threat was over with, she had some business to take care of with him.

Raijin continued his rapid twirl and sneered at Zell fidgeting around on the floor. "Whatsamatter, Zell? I thought you were a _good_ martial arts fighter!" He grunted and swung his staff in a low arc. Zell ducked to the floor, and the staff tore open a huge chunk of the wall dropping bits of plaster and linoleum onto the brawler's head. Raijin grabbed Zell's shirt collar, lifted him off the floor, and headbutted him into the wall. Zell's body made a gash in the wall, and jagged cut appeared on his forehead. He was able to see another jab of the staff come his way, and he barely sidestepped in time to avoid the devastating hit. He managed to kick Raijin's shin, stumbling the brute, and he punched him square in the face. Raijin swung in an arc, and Zell ducked. Zell punched twice to the gut, but Raijin backed up in time and fired another lightning blaze into Zell's body. Zell smashed into the wall again, and bits of electricity sparked his body.

"Hoh, ho Zell you don't have a thunder GF saving your ass, do you?"

_GFs_, Zell thought. He had forgotten and ignored Ifrit clawing at his being. He feigned panting and breathing heavy, as Raijin swung several times priming himself for a catastrophic jab that would ultimately impale Zell to the wall. Fire magicka filled the brawler's blood, and as Raijin swung hard Zell raised both hands and a large fireball exploded out of his body and flung Raijin across the lobby. Boils of fire torched his skin and danced on his staff. Fujin stood up sharply from her desk and waved her fingers in the air. Zell felt wind slap his skin, and he felt the temperature around him cool. He felt his muscles twitch and felt something powerful lift him off the ground and then fling him into another wall. The back of his head slammed in the wall, and he stayed on the floor a bit trying to regain his senses. "The.... f-fuck was that?!?"

"WIND," she said with a large grin.

Squall mentally cursed, as he fished around for his flare gun. It was stuck in his belt, and he couldn't get it out. He could hear nasty sounds erupt within the Hotel and loud cheers and jeers coming from the Galbadians around him, and for the first time he realized he was in an embarrassing state. Just when he grabbed the end of the gun, a loud blast blew up the manhole in the center of the plaza. The Galbadians stopped their chatter and turned sharply to see Irvine Kinneas jump out of the sewers. He applied a powerful Protect spell around him, as sniper bullets careened towards him. The blue shield repelled most of the bullets, but he couldn't pry himself free from the circular onslaught. Squall let go of the flare gun and grasped Diablo's gem. He felt the intense heat of the underworld god, and the sky turned black and red. The Galbadians looked up fearfully, as did the Balambian citizens. The demonic-looking GF flew out of an eddy in the clouds, charioted on a sea of bats. There was a four-story cathedral in the southern part of the port city, and Diablos settled on its precipice. With a triumphant roar, the GF sent a strange gravity wave across the city focused intently on the Galbadian snipers. The wave cut across the roofs of the houses, sparing structural damage, and sliced the snipers in half through the waist. Blood rained down like acid rain and drenched the walls and windows of most of the buildings. Diablos, instead of leaving immediately, remained on the precipice and roared a terrible, deathly pall scaring the shit out of the Galbadian forces. The majority of them fled the city for their ships, trailed on their heels by every citizen of Balamb who took refuge in the Jewel Forest just north of the port. Diablos smiled at his wicked scare tactics and then finally decided to leave Squall and Irvine to their work, and he disappeared in a cloud of bats.

Irvine disconnected his shield, produced his Bismarck and ran towards Squall helping the Commander up to his feet. "I thought I said it was only me and Zell," Squall said stubbornly.

"With all due respect, sir, cut the shit. Where's Zell?"

Squall grunted as his chest heaved from the motion. He was built to withstand the pain, though, and he momentarily relaxed from the pain, unsheathing the Flame Sabre. "Getting his ass kicked."

"C'mon let's go!"

"Wait a minute. Raijin and Fujin are the ones he's fighting! One shot from your gun will kill them in an instant. Use magic, heal us, or just do grazing shots. I don't want them to die so fruitlessly."

Irvine laughed. "What about the Galbadian troops?"

Squall stopped and thought about that. "Well....uh...let's not think about that right now."

"I respectfully agree."

The doors were closed, but that didn't stop Irvine from smashing them open with one powerful blast from his gun. One door flew off its hinges and landed in the far northern wall. Raijin became distracted by the newcomers, doubled up to his feet, and readied his signature move-- the Raijin Special. Irvine charged first, against Squall's wishes. The cowboy pocketed his gun and swung for a powerhouse kick. Raijin somersaulted over it, grabbed Irvine's shoulder, flung him to the floor, and smacked his back hard with the quarterstaff. Squall stood in the doorway, and Raijin saw him and fired a thunder spell at the Commander. The lightning magic surrounded Squall but visibly healed him. "What?!?" Raijin sputtered.

"Quetzacotyl's junctioned to my vitality, motherfucker!"

Raijin widened his eyes in surprise and with a hint of terror. Squall charged, leapt into the air, flipped around, and smashed his sword into Raijin's defensive posture. The burly man fell on his ass but immediately got up. Both melee fighters spun in many circles, their weapons coming together in sick and swift blows.

Fujin hurled herself onto the stairs for higher ground and flung another wind spell Zell's way. The brawler steeled his worn nerves and evaded most of the damage, although traces of the wind power lacerated the skin on his arm. He had fire and ice magic, and he wanted to practice on both. He harnessed Shiva's powers and flung ice shards at the one-eyed impervious bitch. Three large stalagmites etched out of the staircase carpet towards her frame. Fujin somersaulted off the stairs, collecting ice damage to her skin in the process. She fell on her back, but she got up as quickly as she fell. Zell stumbled to his feet and smacked his fists together. "Come on, baby! Let daddy here teach you a thing or two!" Fujin laughed that horrible guttural sound again. "FOOL!" she cried. Her one eye blazed furiously, as she produced a purple disk. Pressing a button that sounded like a knife being drawn, four serrated spikes popped out of all four sides of the disk. She twirled the shuriken like a simple toy pinwheel and laughed again at Zell.

"Well, shit that looks a little rough there." Zell whistled sharply and charged her. He had a roundhouse kick planned, but Fujin had something bolder. With her GF energy, she flung herself into the air completely dodging the wild kick from Zell. She jumped again in the air from an unseen footing, plunged to the ground, doubled around, and flung the shuriken across the floor. The four-leaved clover jolted up on its wind energy and sliced open Zell's back straight up the spine. He collapsed on his stomach, and blood ran down his back. The shuriken hovered near the ceiling above Zell's head and then plunged straight down. Irvine followed the movement, and shot the shuriken to pieces before it splattered Zell's skull. Fujin stared wide-eyed at the cowboy, and Irvine cocked once and fired the wall near her head. Large chunks of wall knocked her to the floor ripping part of the skin on the back of her head.

The Flame Sabre and the quarterstaff smacked with thunderous applause in the lobby room. They struck high, struck low, parried each other's jabs, and struck high again. Raijin was getting winded, but he opted for a reach-around. He fisted his left hand and jabbed it into Squall's ribs flinging the Commander into a plush chair. Raijin painfully got up-- the fucking gunblade was so sharp and powerful and Squall was relentless in his attacks, that the burly man was having trouble keeping up. Raijin grunted once, leapt into the air, twirled in two circles, and brought the quarterstaff down. He was met with the Flame Sabre. The blow jolted his body, and he landed badly on his leg, snapping the tendon in his ankle. A jarring pain afflicted the lower half of his body, but he did not want to give up. He inched towards the exit bringing the quarterstaff up to guard against Squall. The Commander had risen, and he now advanced the bleeding Raijin gunblade down ready to pierce his skin.

Irvine cocked his Bismarck and aimed it at Raijin's head. The burly man stopped routing and dropped his weapon. "I...ugh.. I give up... ya know." Irvine hesitated, but he finally sheathed his gun and went immediately to Zell. The brawler was trying to get up, but the wound was gaping on his back. He was panting and whimpering. Fujin slowly came to, looked at Raijin, and mentally cursed. So much for the wonderful night she had planned. Squall sheathed his sword and sat down in a collective heap. He literally had the wind and energy knocked the fuck out of him.

The wrenched Hotel door swung open and fell off its hinges. Selphie, Rinoa, Quistis entered followed by Cid, Xu, and Mila. The pigtailed girl gasped and immediately ran to Zell. She had some medical vials in her hand, but she realized he badly needed stitches.

"Squall!" Quistis cried. Selphie and Rinoa were looking at him and Irvine with scared expressions.

Squall shrugged Quistis's hand off of him and stood up to a flimsy position. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." He ignored all three girl's disapproving response and walked towards Raijin. The man was breathing heavily. Squall grabbed him by his purple vest and felt disgusted that the motherfucker couldn't at least button the damn thing up every once in a while. "Listen, man. Enough is enough!!"

"You're.... r-right," Raijin said weakly. He grabbed hold of Squall's hand and let the SeeD lift him to his feet. "Hol--Holy shit. You all... are very good fighters."

"Raijin!!" Quistis yelled startling him and everyone else in the room. "Is this how you treat old friends, classmates, and partners?"

Raijin looked at each of the girls, Xu, Squall, Irvine, and Headmaster Cid. Cid's gaze seemed to strike the hardest at his heart, and once again he found himself unable to conjure up a proper phrase to respond.

"RAGE."

"Fu?" he replied, looking past them and over at her form on the floor.

"Rage..."

"Shit, y'all listen. We're really sorry, ya know. But we follow orders from Seifer and Seifer alone. We don't really like the Sorceress, ya know. We only take orders from Seifer."

"Why?!?" Squall shouted in an ire that scared the shit out of everyone in the room.

A loud giggling broke the moment, and all of them looked up to the second floor. The giggling continued until a girl and a guy walked out into view, practically groping and falling over each other. The girl was a small dark-skinned beauty with a fine hourglass figure. She had thick black hair and bright white teeth, but she was obviously drunk and barely able to stand. She was, however, aware of the grisly circumstances around her and she raised a pretty fit over all the blood on the floor and the messed-up staircase. The guy was the most striking attention.

The scar-faced gunblader himself was drunk, and he had taken off his gray trenchcoat to reveal an unbuttoned dark blue sweater and unzipped trousers. His gunblade was on his hip, but hanging loosely and ready to be off the belt. He wasn't aware of the situation fully, but her screams alerted his attention. He surveyed the entire room and took in every little detail. Seifer Almasy had been feeling fine before. Now he felt like shit.

He slapped her on the rump. "Get your things and board the Garden, we're about ready to depart." She did not say a word and only stumbled back up the stairs to get her clothes and papers. Seifer remained where he was, yet he realized he was reeling so he only propped Hyperion out to lean on it for support. He kept the arrogant smile going, though, and looked at each face coyly and humorously. He saw first Zell's face.

"Chicken wuss. So nice to see you again." He waited for the brawler to respond, but then he noticed that some pretty chick was busy patching up his split-open back. "Damn, chicky chicky. You head into battle like a bull in a china shop, and what's this! You got a girlfriend or something?"

"A _respectable_ one!" the brawler retorted.

Seifer looked behind him at the implication and only smiled. "Well.... that's really sweet." He continued on, passing Fujin. He would deal with her and her lover later on. Headmaster Cid and Xu came into view. "Ah, now this is comforting to see."

"Seifer..." Xu started, her hand curling into a knuckle-wrenching fist. She couldn't continued further. Cid just stared at him with the old teacher look. Seifer chuckled at the scene.

He looked at the three girls: Selphie, Quistis, and Rinoa. "Always nice to see pretty girls around town."

"Seifer..." Rinoa started, but she too couldn't finish.

"Oh, you don't need to speak, Rinny. Not much to answer with anyway."

A look of disgust came over her, and Rinoa twitched her mouth.

Seifer continued on to Irvine and gave a confused look. "You strike no memory in my mind, but you seem to show up everywhere!"

"That's my goal in life."

"A lofty one it is."

Finally... the rival.

Seifer and Squall stared long and hard, making everyone in the lobby uncomfortable. The girl in Seifer's company came out again, fully dressed and consuming some type of Galbadian adrenaline pill. Her sickness before was vanishing right before their eyes, and they realized she was a respectable SeeD girl caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. She handed Seifer a vial of the liquid and clamored as fast as she could to get out of the Hotel. Seifer held the vial loosely, still staring at Squall, and slowly opened it and consumed it. He descended the stairs, using Hyperion as a crutch.

"Squall, Squall, Squall, Squall. I am _so_ glad you survived the destruction of Desert District No Five. I tell you, you're an ace in the hole sometimes." The liquid was dramatically improving his constitution. He sheathed the gunblade and walked up to within five inches of Squall's sweaty face.

For his part, Squall remained stiff as a board and did not respond.

"You escaped the prison," Seifer continued, "had someone destroy the Missile Base, made your Garden active, and repelled an invasion into Fisherman's Horizon. What won't you do next?"

"You finished?" The response was harsher than expected, and even Seifer was caught off guard. "I'm only saying, I would greatly appreciate it if you all left this city alone."

"Ha, tough shit. I think this place is a fine place to occupy."

"And drive six thousand people out into poverty?"

"This is a possible place to harbor Ellone. I'm pretty sure you know about her already."

"Of course I do."

"Well then, that's why _we're_ here."

"Well, she's not here."

"Indeed... she is not."

"So... now what?"

The two men stared at each other again. "You want us gone?"

"I'll fight you right here, right now if that's the case."

"Oh no, no, no. Not today."

"Why?!" Zell asked suddenly, getting up when he wasn't supposed to. "You afraid we'll kick your ass?"

Seifer turned his head slightly to the battered SeeD. "You really don't know when to shut up, do you Chicken Wuss?"

"Seifer," Squall said seriously. "No one else needs to die here today."

Seifer looked back and studied Squall some more. "So, Balamb Garden is here right now."

"Yes, it is. Just outside of town."

"So is Galbadia Garden and three sets of infantry divisions."

"Yes, that's correct."

"So, we can instantly swarm you with an all-out assault and pretty much wipe you out in five minutes flat."

"Yes, I guess that's the way it would be."

"Yet, you all have GFs. You already displayed one for show. That could even the playing field."

"....Yes, it would."

Seifer thought and realized something very important. "Fine, Squall. Enough blood has been shed today. Enough terror has been scarred today. Fine showing you got there, my old friend. I am really glad to see you haven't lost your touch even though I practically skull-fucked you in the prison."

"You held back."

"I guess." He chuckled a bit and brushed past him for the exit. He stopped at the door and talked to him without facing him. "The score, Mr. Squall, is a draw and a win in my favor. I sense that a real battle is coming up quite quickly. I hope you don't disappoint." He left the Hotel and headed for Galbadia Garden. Outside, with a wave of his arm, swarm upon swarm of Galbadian soldiers and SeeDs followed him out of the city.

Squall stood in the dilapidated entrance and watched the men and women leave and felt a heavy burden fall on his shoulders. It was going to be a fucking terrible day when it occurred. Movement behind him made him turn to see Raijin help Fujin to her feet. They both looked at him and slowly made their way for the exit. He blocked it, though, causing them to become uncomfortable.

"Squall, ya know, please."

"Don't do this , Raijin."

"Squall, this isn't our choice."

The gunblader looked into the burly man's eyes and saw a decision that had already been made.

"Squall, the Galbadians are only listening to Seifer, because they fear the Sorceress, ya know. You haven't seen what she is capable of yet. I mean, you saw her murder President Deling, but Edea has very horrible tendencies sometimes. No, they listen to Seifer because they fear her... and him. He can be a bit troublesome sometimes. But, we're his _posse_. He has many followers, but we're different to him. Nothing can change that."

Squall looked at both of them. "Fine, then." He was aware of the others looking at him funny. "You two officially have no relationship with Garden anymore."

"That's the way, ya know."

"AFFIRMATIVE."

"Then, we won't hold back the next time either. Is that clear?" Squall asked, enunciating the last three words.

"Clear as a bell, ya know."

Squall nodded gravely and stepped out of the way. Raijin helped Fujin down the street, and Squall watched them go placing one hand on the doorframe above him for support. "A victory no less," he muttered to himself.

_Wait... was this a victory? What did we gain?_ A lot of terrorized people were now prevalent in Balamb, and several were injured in the sporadic quabbles with the Galbadians. Seifer was prodding the whole campaign to a full-fledged war that no one wanted. The Sorceress was hell-bent on finding Ellone... for whatever purpose he had no fucking clue. Now Raijin and Fujin, honed in the arts of Balamb battle tactics, were now their enemy.

_Well....the good... the good thing is we didn't suffer a plethora of deaths again. Not yet, anyway._

"Hey!"

Squall whirled around to see that everyone was looking at him, and he realized he had fallen into another depressing state of introverted thought. Rinoa had spoken, of course.

"You're just... gonna let them go?"

Squall looked at her. There was general concern for them and for him in her eyes, and he realized he was starting to warm up to it. Not fully, of course, no that would be maniacal. "Yes."

Everybody stared wide-eyed.

"Friend or foe, it all comes down to circumstance. I can see it in their eyes, they don't want to go all the way on this. Even in our battle, they didn't make the tough moves. My decision is nothing special."

"Really?" she asked, sensing his lie.

He sensed it himself. He felt a deep warmth caressing his heart. Taking in the sight of the destroyed Hotel lobby and the previous feeling of an occupied city, he realized that all he wanted at that moment was peace. Peace between all. That kind of FH environment where everything was a breeze on a windmill. Hell, maybe a hurricane came every now and then, but people can deal with nature. People couldn't deal with people, and that's what made the difference.

He looked behind him. "Let's get back to Garden and recoup."

They all nodded and followed him, Zell supported by Mila, Selphie, and Irvine.

* * *

The immense engines of the red dragon architecture rocketed to life. Massive turbines propelled the craft of Galbadia Garden off the sandy beach shore and rotated it a hundred and eighty degrees out to the Sea. Its massive hydroplane disrupted the tide, overturned boats in the pier, and broke dozens of windows on the closest buildings. With a lurch, the Garden set sail at a speed of sixty knots at the start. It would reach a hundred knots at full clip.

Inside, the SeeDs filed into their respective dorms to rest for the day. Some were called out for their daily watch and exercise sessions. Still others were transfixed by the Knight's determined gait. He seemed perturbed about something.

Seifer Almasy walked through the corridors with immense speed. His hands were in dark skintight gloves, and he flexed them vigorously as if they were in a death grip. The hydraulic doors opened in front of him, and he entered the school's grand auditorium. Nobody was in here, except her. She sat in a pink oyster shell, carved in a triumphant throne, in the direct center of the vast expansion. Months ago, students used this area as a grand civic center, albiet one where pro-Galbadian propaganda was displayed of course. Now, in this day and age, Sorceress Edea made this her place of requiem.

She appeared to be sleeping, but he knew better. She was fully awake, but lost in meditation, contemplation. A dark blue visor with fish scales on the sides and a silver tiara on top covered the top half of her face so only her purple lipstick and her pale chin were exposed. She was a very voluptous woman, not very tall, and soft-spoken sometimes. Oh, but that commanding voice when her ire was raised. He loved every minute of it. That warmth. That intense passion. That feeling of.... familiarity. He felt at one with himself within her presence, and he always wondered why he seemed to be the only one who felt that way.

He walked up to the base of her shell and kneeled. "My lady."

She didn't stir at first. Then, the visor fizzled away revealing deep, deep green eyes. Eyes that were thirsty for the taste of blood. "Rise, my Knight."

He obeyed, produced Hyperion, grasped the handle in front of him, and stood proudly waiting by.

She looked far away but saw things very close by. "The girl wasn't in that town."

"No, my lady. She was not."

"How come it does not burn?"

"It seems, my lady, we have more variables to deal with."

"Your rival?"

"He is quite strong."

"He is the one that harmed me, is that correct?"

"Yes, my lady. He is the one who attempted to assassinate you."

Edea smiled a peculiar smile. It was tentative and complex, calling forth the notion of whether she wanted to go along with her next order. "You will fight him next time."

"Of course, my lady. It would be a great pleasure."

"Does he know?"

"...About our eventual meeting?"

"I'm sure he knows that, but does he know about the other thing?"

Seifer widened his eyes. "No, my lady. He is clueless. He is using the tactics he was brought up on to make his judgment calls."

Edea seemed to deflate, a motion he did not expect. "I see," she said solemnly. "Well, we must not stall him too long, now shall we?"

"No, my lady. That cowboy figure, though, I think might assist him."

"Ah, yes, the Kinneas man. I think you are correct, my Knight. In that case, set a course for Centra at once. Lighthouse Pointe. While we are waiting, search for the White SeeDs. I am confident they make their home there."

"Ellone?"

"That is what I am thinking about."

Seifer kneeled. "My lady. It will be done."

Edea reformed the visor to cover her face and went back to her thoughts. Seifer rose and departed. He ventured onto the control deck and directed the colonel what to do. His thoughts roamed to Squall, and he wished upon all wish that the gunblader would come to his senses as soon as possible.


	22. Nagansett

Late, yes, but... **HAPPY NEW YEAR!** Hopefully, it's better than last year.

_Islands and islets,_

_Displaying the Man's statue,_

_Triple chins and more_

The skies had clouded over since their time spent in the port city. Monstrous gray billows that threatened to unleash a torrential downpour. The gulls so familiar to the beach were gone and swept away in the increasing wind. The giant red Garden was gone, and the three sea tankers were dutifully emptying the island as well, cutting large riffs in the foamy waters. His partners escorted the gravely wounded Zell quickly up the ramp of Balamb Garden, a respirator covered over his mouth and tons of bandages clogging the vertical wound on his back; Squall, meanwhile, was being beckoned.

Headmaster Cid was cordially talking with the mayor of Balamb Port, the Honorable Dr. Frederick Wilhem, over by the eastern entrance. Hundreds of citizens were lined up in a loose formation brandishing thin blades and looking to some qualified instructors practicing magic on the side. A fleeting thought ran through Squall's mind, but he was puzzled since the Balambians were known for being indifferent-- not pacifist-minded, just indifferent-- to the arts of war.

"Squall, my dear boy!" Cid shouted joyfully. "Come here, Mr. Wilhem has a proposition."

"Indeed," the Mayor began as soon as Squall came within earshot. "Your Guardian Force really drove the bulk of them out of the city, and I must thank you very humbly for coming in here and saving every citizen of this town. We'll have to clean up the three dozen Galbadian corpses that GF gave us, but no Balambian was injured or killed in this assault."

"That's good news, sir," Squall said.

"Indeed. This is the first city to survive destruction from the combined Galbadian forces. Your Provost is correct, Commander, I do have a proposition for you. My deputies have just received word from the mainland out west: tensions have overflowed on the rim of a searing pot. Galbadia is a known enemy, but Deling City is slowly becoming that way, too."

"Carroway," Squall grunted. "I knew that would be the case."

"On the contrary," Wilhem corrected, "Carroway was deposed in a coup de tat."

Squall stared at the Mayor and looked to Cid who gave him a solemn nod.

"It occurred," the Mayor elaborated, "at noon yesterday. The General arrived back at that time from Fisherman's Horizon to find a massive rank of his Deling Guard storming his mansion and setting fire to much of the district containing the Presidential Palace. Half a million people so far have fled the city to places in the south. The displaced from the Trabian continent after the missile strikes there have been lost in the dust. It's a gloomy mess up there, but the Deling Guard has taken firm control of the head of state there, and they are currently in the process of solidifying population control."

Squall rubbed his chin. "So, they'll be fighting us, too?"

"Not likely, but that's always a prospect. The Deling Guard first has to take control of five million people, and then they'll subordinate themselves to Galbadian rule."

"Something's not right about this. It's all too sudden."

"Indeed. Carroway was able to escape to Dollet, a land supposedly in neutral agreement with Deling. He is badly wounded, I say... mortally."

Squall thought of Rinoa suddenly. He was curious as to how she would react. Very curious indeed.

Wilhem cleared his throat. "The Duke has requested an immediate presence, which he passed onto us an hour ago. I told him we were under seige and couldn't do anything about it, so he might be in a hopeless state. With the recent turn of events, I can say how thankful I am to be alive. With that said, I implore you to utilize two thousand of my able men and women who have volunteered to aid in the impending battle... wherever it may take place."

Squall looked at the squad and felt reassured.. if only a tiny bit. "Gladly accepted, sir."

Mayor Wilhem smiled and signalled to one of his deputies to send the troops onboard. "You might find this odd, Commander, but yes we are indifferent to world affairs but cordial to those who defend our way of life."

"Well," Squall chuckled, "I cannot argue with that. It'll be much obliged, Mayor Wilhem."

"Not only will there be extra troop presence, we have agreed to supply enough food and supplies for the task. We Balambians are skilled at craftsmanship and fishery. Not quite as good as FH, but good enough," he added with a wink.

Both men saluted each other, and the wind picked up more speed as Squall and Cid turned back to the vessel. Sprinkles of rain fell, and the waters of the Sea turned choppy. Large mists of spray blanketed the shore and splashed a few civilians who weren't aware of their surroundings.

Cid came to his side and put an arm over his shoulder. "You want to see Carroway?"

"Probably be the best thing to do, eh?"

"More than likely. I was hoping we could utlize parts of the Deling Guard, but now--"

"They would've betrayed us in some fashion, Headmaster. They're too closely connected with the Galbadians."

Cid said nothing, and both of them entered Garden with solemn faces.

* * *

The Garden was big enough to hold the extra weight, but the thought of harboring another vessel to support some of the units was seen as a beneficial proposition somewhere down the line. Irvine and Selphie had deposited Zell off in the Infirmary and were now corralling the new recruits into separate squadrons. Orders rang out to cover the open-air portions of Garden with large sections of tarp; the rain was starting to pour. The brawler's back was a twisted hunk of flesh, mended together only by the loosest of medicinal spells, and Kadowaki was undecidedly pissed at the young man's ambivalent attitude.

Lightning flashed the sky, and several captains under the command of Irvine and Selphie hustled out loud orders to the recruits to hurry the hell up. A thundercloud broke its seams, and a tumultuous rain tumbled out blanketing the earth. The inside of Garden was splashed with the solid gray liquid, and more shouts battled the claps of thunder. Up on the third floor, Nida undeservedly cursed for the rainfall was making it hard to shut the emergency gates. He brought out a panel, examined the dash carefully, and hit a few buttons. The sound of hydraulics whirring shuddered against a heavy weight. The LCD display highlighted the trouble. The SeeD hit his subordinate over the head hard, and the young lad worked desperately to unhook the obstacle. An extra injection of liquid fuel burned the object, and the gates slammed shut. The Garden heaved to a rocky start and entered the Sea like a sumo wrestler bounding haphazardly to the center of the ring.

Squall met him flustered. "The fuck is going on here?"

"Sir, the rain's causing problems with the circuitry."

"Fuck man, I don't need that shit right now. Do everything you can to override any problems."

"Commander, with all due respect," Xu looked up from her computer terminal, "judging from our monitor screens, the Galbadians have split courses and have signed off onto different locations all along the western continent. We have no specific location to go to."

Squall fought to maintain his cool and walked up to her slowly. "As a matter of fact, there's a serious matter to divulge with."

"Where?"

"Dollet. General Carroway is there, on his deathbed."

"What?!?" The new voice was familiar and ear-piercing. Everyone turned to see Rinoa enter the cockpit with a surprised and irritated look on her face. She appeared wet from the rain, so that was probably why she was irritated. "What do you mean on his deathbed?"

"There's political turmoil within Deling City right now," Squall answered nonchalantly, regarding her with a sideways glance. "I was told a coup de tat upheaved him, but he survived somehow and ended up down south in Dollet."

"Great," Xu said defeatedly. "There goes a potential ally."

Squall gritted his teeth, and he saw Xu take in breath at the realization of her utterance.

Rinoa took a couple breaths and folded her arms across his chest. She walked slowly toward Squall with deliberate paces. Xu bent down back to her work, Nida turned back to the pilot desk and whirled the ship around to Dollet's direction, and Cid walked over to the window to observe a spectacular lightning flash across the mountains. The raven-haired princess stopped right in front of Squall and sized him up, secretly loving the way he immediately became uncomfortable.

"Accepting Carroway's assistance, hm?"

Squall straightened up to his full height and cracked his knuckles. "After all we've been through, must we get bogged down in a second father-daughter quarrel?"

"I can't believe you would stoop to that lev--"

"He's almost dead!"

The statement was too loud and elicited some perplexed stares from everybody else around him.

Squall sighed. "We need more help against the Galbadians. Deling's help would've been extraordinary, and we could've worked out something with the General in return. Now... the plans are shot, and we can only rely on the help of the Dolletians who are still in the process of rebuilding their city. Things aren't good, right now, Rinoa."

A sudden image of her father lying in a pool of blood transfixed her, and she backed down from her standoff and went to check out the rainclouds and the heaving waves of the Sea. "Well..." she said softly, so hardly any of them could hear, "I do hope he's okay."

Squall looked at her puzzled. She was quite an enigma sometimes, and he wondered why he even gave a damn most of the time.

Blips and noises on the radar alerted his attention. Nida barked out hoarsely, "Does Dollet have energy packs?"

One of his aides responded, "Aye sir, several dozen. Enough to last us a week. Plus extra compactors to secure against rainy days, sir!"

"Well shit," the SeeD chuckled, "we need that right now, but no matter. Ladies and gentlemen, places please, we got thirty minutes before Dollet comes into sight!"

* * *

Deling City was a mess of fires, gunfire, and bodies littering the streets. Thousands of Guardsmen were clad in full riot gear as hundreds of thousands of protestors pelted them with rocks, bundled-up papers, or even pop shots from pistols smuggled into the city. Since the ascension of the Sorceress, a ban on firearms had spread across all thirty districts and law enforcement had confiscated several tons of ammunition and had, inevitably, spurned the hatred of many people within the city. Local villages on the outskirts of the city where druglords and gangsters dwelled at had slipped the cargo in through the railroads, but after the missile strikes hit Trabia and Balamb the Deling Guard had commenced Operation Silver Dragon.

OSD now reigned supreme in the culmination of the ousting of General Rafeal Carroway who had lately gone sympathetic to the Delingers and antagonistic against the Sorceress. His watchman, old Maurice, had made the preparations available for the sieze of the mansion, but the General was tipped off by the Duke of Dollet. A Dolletian convoy slipped into the city and pulled him out through his underground tunnel, just as the mansion went up in a plume of smoke.

The immense devastation gutted the Presidential Palace and destroyed the clocktower overlooking the Central square. Already, thousands of civilians were dead, caught in the crossfire; but, sadly, lines had been drawn in the sand and the Deling Guard had been successful in generating a majority support. The General's number two man Colonel Oliver Whigham had wounded his boss in the gut and had thought the bastard dead. He staked a claim on the Galbadian Hotel and had it personally decked out in the new headquarters of the city's leadership and had personally burned down Carroway's mansion himself.

Massive protests from the minority in the civilian population were quelled by row upon row of water cannons and tasers and rubber bullets. Some guardsmen were more chagrin than others and used live ammunition instead.

It was all so sudden. Carroway received the orders of impending Silver Dragon just hours before his departure for Fisherman's Horizon. Whigham had assured him the matter was entirely under control. The FH procedures were accorded, and Balamb Garden's coordinates and affiliates were ushered down the very scrutinies of the Deling Guard. Upon Carroway's return and his duty fulfilled, the operation commenced.

Up on the sandy hilltop in the Monteresau Plateau, the Dolletian convoy stopped to rest and he weakly turned over to behold his ruined city. Dozens of smokestacks billowed into the sky, and flickers of fire leapt up all over the mass of city. Before the march started again, he thought of her and her mother. The mother was gone and had been for a while, but he remembered her very much. The three of them had been happy together for a time.

For a time.

* * *

The storm was violent but indicative of the winter solstice hurricane movements that occurred along the Central Sea. Garden's computers indeed picked up a squall barrelling into the community of Dha' Nel in northeastern Galbadia. The bands of the storm were trailing as far north as Ithius and creating snow flurries on the eastern side of Trabia. Rain battered the hull of the vessel as it cruised into the ports of the Dollet Dukedom. A platoon of sailors were ushering the vessel into the newly completed covered shipyard half a mile southwest of the reconstructed capitol building. From the cockpit, Squall could see that roughly half the city had been restored in the two months since the devastating Ultima bomb and warfare wrecked the city to mere remnants. Staus from the computer showed that that the city had regained seven thousand of its ten thousand inhabitants.

The vessel was just small enough to grate past the sides. None of Dollet's ships were here but were instead housed in a separate shipyard up north in the province of Chechina. The terrific blast of thunder and lightning scared the piss out of a bunch of people on the deck, but Irvine and Selphie agreed to keep the recruits in line as Squall and Quistis prepared to descend.

"Wait!" Rinoa cried after them, Angelo hot on her heels. Squall and Quistis looked at her, surprised. "I need to see him."

The two SeeDs sighed and nodded their heads. They grabbed umbrellas, and a group of Dolletians escorted them to a private carriage. Outside, the city began deploying its set of shore barricades-- monstrous steel blocks set to rig up a temporary beachhead for the waves to crash against. The sky was pitch black for being only four in the afternoon, but it lit up with every white flash of lightning. The carriage bounced along the uneven road still littered from previous upliftings. Potholes carved up geysers of water.

The sight of the capitol building put more oomph in their spirit, for the Dolletians had made certain to establish an expedient effort to reclaim their status as a foreign power. The building had a glass dome and gothic architecture, indicative of Centran plans. The carriage stopped in front of it, and the trio plus dog entered quickly against the increased tempo of the rain.

Duke Thomas Haydyn was immediately there to send out a welcoming call. The lobby was exquisite and filled with some of the Duke's good imports. A lot of Estharian furniture and paintings were of evidence, suggesting a certain knack the middle-aged man had a interest for. The Duke himself looked haggard around the eyes but capable of exerting some insurmountable strength. He sat near a coffee table sipping some tea, nonchalantly listening to the thunderclaps outside. His aides and cabinet officials were dutifully filing papers and coordinating analyses on a large print-out map on the wall. A large cluster of markers were dotting Deling City, and Squall felt his stomach drop.

"So good to see you, Mr. Leonhart," the Duke said in a gentle voice, getting up to a full height. "Is Mr. Kramer with you?"

"He's coming in a separate carriage, sir."

The door opened, and the Headmaster appeared. "Whew!" he humbly said, "sure is a bright sunny day out there, right?"

"Indeed, Headmaster," Haydyn laughed. "Dha' Nel is getting pounded, and there are reports the govenor is calling for a state of emergency."

The two officials shook hands, and Cid got some tea. "I was told you wanted to see me, Duke."

"That is correct, sir." Haydyn took a sip of tea. "It's a little urgent."

"Well, then. You have myself and Commander Leonhart here. This is assistant Commander Quistis Trepe, Squall's vice. And this is Rinoa Heartilly, our press secretary."

Duke Haydyn practically choked on his tea. "Miss Heartilly?"

"Yes, sir," Rinoa responded apathetically.

"Hm. I am sorry, but it does not look good."

Cid sighed and went to get some sugar. Squall scratched the back of his head.

Rinoa took a long deep breath. "Where is he?" Her voice was morose.

Haydyn slowly pointed behind him. "First room on the right."

Rinoa looked long in that direction and turned to Squall. "Will you come with me?"

Squall swallowed. "Sure."

Quistis watched the two of them go and felt a selfish feeling erupt over her. Not wanting others to witness her blushing skin, she hurried over to the teapot and clumsily poured herself a cup. To the bewildered looks of both the Duke and the Headmaster.

In the room, he lay on a small cot. The blankets were bloody, and a nurse was busy wiping his sweaty brow. A heart rate monitor was connected to him, and IV fluids were inserted in his skin. Yet, the monitor was reading slowly, and the air stunk of a creeping death. His raspy breathing was filling the void. She looked at him, she looked at her father and felt a compassion that was a long time in the making. Even Squall could sense it. He remained by the doorway and watched her walk stiffly over to his side; he saw the pain on her face, but it was mixed with a more adult-like sternness and appreciation. The nurse whispered something in the General's ear and made room for Rinoa to sit beside her father.

Carroway weakly lifted himself up.

"No, daddy," she said placing her hand gently on his shoulders. "I'll come to you. Just lay back down."

He was shocked and delighted. It had been a long time. "R-Rinoa." His right arm had gone numb, but he was able to lift his left arm up and he caressed her cheek. He was happy when she kept his hand there with a tear running down her face.

"Daddy, I'm here. I'm here."

"My daughter, l-listen to me. I...was not able to sur-survive this war--"

"No, daddy, we can patch you up. Don't be defeated on me."

"Rinoa," he smiled. "You... are always so cheerful. E-Even when we're not happy with each other."

"I just didn't know what to do all that time ago."

"I.. don't think.. any of us knew at that time. But...you are... stronger than you think."

More tears came down her face.

"I won't survive the night.... b-but that doesn't mean... I'm wholly defeated."

She couldn't respond.

"Th-Th-There is a civil war d-destroying Deling." He grunted. "The people... are s-su-suffering.. yet...there are still some... who appreciate... the C-Carroway lineage." He garnered enough strength to squeeze her hand. "You-You have much of your mother in you. Julia.. she..was always the torch that.. guided all."

"Daddy... what are you saying?"

"Go with him..." he said, gesturing toward Squall.

She looked at him, and the gunblader felt a twitch overcome him. It was bad enough to be the Commander, he sure as hell didn't want to babysit. _I thought I was still under contract._ He felt a paw against his leg, and he looked down into the panting face of her pooch. The dog apparantly had marked his territory.

"Daddy," she said after smiling at Squall, "I don't know if I can steel myself up for that."

He smiled. "Al-Always so.. humble are you?" He made a hoarse laugh at her expression. "I... think I have something of yours by the way."

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nurse... the chest."

The nurse nodded and went into another room. Rinoa watched the door, intrigued. She had a vague inkling... no! she told herself. It couldn't be that. The nurse came back out with a medium-sized chest and laid it down at Rinoa's feet. The princess looked at Carroway, and he gestured for her to open it. She swallowed a few times and caressed the edges of the chest. It seemed to glow with a brilliant radiance. She depressed the levers and opened the top. A billow of steam left the husk.

Her eyes widened.

"Yes... my dear. It is.. the Shooting Star."

She pulled out the blaster edge, a supreme dart gun she had personally made herself in her first rebellious days before the advent of the Forest Owls. It was built on a piece of force armlet-- a magnanimous stone from the shell of an iron giant her father had defeated during the Sorceress War. It was blue, purple, and green; remnants of succubus energy formed into crystals dotted three layers of it which would harness enough firepower to come out of that shaft that would boggle the mind. A sharp dagger was hidden inside that could easily be depressed and utilized without the opponent ever knowing the difference. She had only used the weapon once-- but never the dagger-- against an adamantoise that had attacked her on the beach. The blaster edge created a nice hole in the shoulder blade, but the creature was too tough and deadly. Carroway had saved her that day and had confiscated the weapon much to her disappointment.

She held it in her hands, and she couldn't stop the tears. "Thank you daddy. You've saved my life so many times, that I didn't even know of."

"You..." he said. His voice was practically gone. He cupped her chin gently. "You...will.. always be.. my little girl, Rin---o---a..."

The hand fell, and the heart rate monitor flatlined. The nurse yelled for support, and a rush of aides came in, and everything ground to a slow-motion. She gripped the Shooting Star in her hands and lay transfixed at his lifeless eyes, his razzy hair, his palled face, his red chest. She felt as if the world was moving at a clip faster than any motion she had been on. She looked down at her weapon and over at Squall.

The gunblader stared back at her, not with arms folded, not with frustration, not with hesitance. He looked at her with friendship.

And she responded with a smile.

She hooked the Shooting Star onto her wrist and rose to her feet. Giving her father one last look, she walked towards Squall. "Forget about our contract."

He blinked. "You.. sure?"

"Yes," she said, reaching down to pet Angelo's ears. "We have... much more.. important issues on our hands."

Squall made a little smile. "For once, the most sensible thing you've said thus far."

They caught each other's gaze and then left the room to go back into the lobby.

The Duke was solemnly nodding his head. "I am really sorry, Miss Heartilly."

"It is no problem, sir," she responded. "I have... resolved my past with him."

Haydyn smiled. "Good. That is always the best thing to have happen."

"Rinoa," Quistis asked, checking out her arm with a wide-eyed expression, "what is that?"

The raven-haired girl showed them. "This will come in handy for my squeamishness to battles."

Cid muttered approvingly and nodded. Even the Duke looked impressed. "Good thing," he said, "because a battle I am quite sure of. With the recent news in Deling, I don't believe the Guardsmen will be allying themselves with the Galbadians just yet. However, Galbadia is more than a match with personnel. Mr. Squall."

"Yes," the gunblader said coming to meet him.

"I can give you an even two thousand now. Depending on when the actual war starts, I can campaign the surrounding villages and recruit some of the young lads in this very city. The Dollet Army and Navy are proud to once again serve the SeeDs who have not sewn their hearts to the devil."

Squall widened his eyes and looked at Cid who toasted him with a cup of tea. "Well, that's excellent sir, but we don't have enough room on our Garden."

"No problem. Have your navigator, Mr. Williams, on standby. Our fleets will respond on call and go wherever you all go."

"Most excellent, sir."

A thunderclap rang loud outside, and the lights inside the capitol building flickered. Everybody grabbed some tea and toasted each other.

The preliminaries to war had just concluded.

* * *

It was around midnight when the hurricane-force winds subsided. The rainclouds still painted the night sky, and a steady drizzle of rain still swept across the waters. The vessel had been docked out at the farthest pier at the ready for takeoff. No one was in the cockpit except Nida, who was drooling on himself and lost in slumber, and Xu who had fallen out of her chair into a deep sleep.

Squall was in his dorm room with the window open and his back against the open space. Listening to the light rain was a soothing experience. Angelo was with him, having staked his claim earlier, and the mutt had fallen asleep with his head in Squall's lap. The gunblader wasn't much on pets, but this basset hound was starting to tear at his defenses. His master was busy catching up on sleep in the dorm room next to Squall's. A new shipment of clothes had been donated from the Dolletians to whomever wanted them. Rinoa definitely signed up, as did Quistis and Zell. Irvine had dug up some stuff from the Quad and Selphie had tons of clothes she had brought from Trabia Garden. Squall, meanwhile, was still stuck on wifebeaters and black trousers and the inexorable leather jacket with the ruffled trim. He wasn't much on accessories.

The dog made a whimper and buried his head further into Squall's lap. _Any further and you're gonna make it really fucking uncomfortable._ He had to smile at that, and he petted the mutt's ear. His eyes drifted to the left wall. Behind it, she lay sleeping on her bed. She had specifically chosen that room, since its previous occupant was no longer living. She had showered after the meeting with Duke Haydyn, and he had briefly seen her in a shortie.

He had to admit the sight was fucking gorgeous. There was nothing else like it. It was just so...

Knock. Knock.

He grunted and shook his head angrily. "Who is it?"

"It's Selphie."

He blinked. Angelo awoke and gave a yawn. Squall's lap felt all clammy, and when he looked down he spotted drool. "Shit... come on in. It's open."

He heard her giggle, and then the knob turned and she came in. She was dressed in bright pink pajamas that covered her from her neck to her feet, and even though she looked tired she still managed a perky expression. "I am so sorry to bother you, Squallie--"

"--Squall, please."

"Yes, Squallie, I'm sorry. Now, uh, we haven't found a trace on Galbadia Garden yet. They seem to have fallen off our radar at the moment. I was wondering if, in the meantime, we go to a different destination."

Squall grabbed a towel and tried hard to get the wetness off his pants. "Does this... destination.. have a meaningful purpose?"

"To what?" she asked, surprised.

The towel wasn't doing shit. He flung it to the ground. "To the mission at hand, Selphie!"

She blinked. "Sure. Yeah. Of course. I'm sure Trabia Garden could be useful... for recruiting."

"Trabia?" _Of all the possible...._ He suddenly remembered. "I'm sorry. Rinoa's dog has gotten me flustered."

Selphie looked at the problem and almost burst out laughing. "No problem, Squallie."

"Squ--ergh."

She giggled.

A look of sympathy overcame his face, which stopped her giggling. "That Garden could be nothing but scrap metal now."

"All the more to look."

He nodded. "First thing tomorrow morning. Go get some rest."

She was excited. So excited, in fact, she walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. Noting his surprise, she winked and said in a low voice, "Don't tell Rinoa."

He shooed her giggling self away and rolled his eyes.

* * *

"Trabia Garden?" Nida asked.

"Yes, Trabia Garden," Squall confirmed. Selphie beamed on with pride, decked out in a bright green strapless dress. Irvine was by her side in a white trenchcoat. Quistis was with Xu, dressed in a blue jumpsuit-- the former instructor had a thing for those clothes. Zell was back in action wearing a tight black shirt and red shorts. Rinoa was also up there printing out press releases to Balamb, Dollet, and Fisherman's Horizon. She was clad in a V-neck white blouse and black shorts, and she more than once caught Squall looking. His five friends seemed happy Squall had finally gotten around to visiting the battered SeeD campus.

Nida however loved to put a damper on things. "Commander, with all due respect, there's a massive snow storm up there."

"And?" Squall replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Nida leaned back in his chair and pushed a button on the dashboard. The LCD screen up top pinpointed closer on the eastern half of the Trabian continent. A big cloud of white was covering the precipitation radar. "Squall, you saw what rain did the motor coils. The Dolletians here have given us some extract to protect against rain damage, but who knows what the fuck snow will do."

"I understand that, but Trabia is important for two reasons. One, to check up on her friends," He indicated Selphie who gave a little bow. "Two, we get some more recruits of those who are left to add to our four thousand and three hundred able bodies."

"How do we know if there's any left?"

"It's worth a try!" Selphie said.

Her exuberance flattered him, and Nida threw his hands up. "I'll give it my best shot. If this hunk of junk even starts to sputter once, we'll put this off til tomorrow. The forecast shows the blizzard should be over by then." He gave them a look. "Is that alright?"

Squall cracked his neck. "As long as you try."

Nida pulled his chair up. "Tack, start the engines. Jewels, fire up the motors. Brom, turn this puppy around." Balamb Garden sprang to life and plowed the still waters against a gray sky. The driver turned back to the Commander. "Departure time 0700 hours. Estimated time of arrival at the southernmost peninsula of Trabia 1300 hours, sir."

Squall cracked open some vodka to everyone's surprise. "Time to get an early start then."

The vessel cruised the waves with alarming speed and brushed some breeding whales and sharks out of the way. As the hours passed, and the western continent floated away from view, frost particles formed on the glass walls of the cockpit. Reports from students down below came of cold temperatures and the thermometer itself showed a drop in ten degrees every hour. Squall ordered longjohns and heavy coats to be worn by everybody who was going out to the Garden. The heating tanker was driven to overdrive, and an extra energy capsule had to be used to foot the cost. The waves started picking up around 1100 hours, and a special defroster was applied to the windows to steam off the ice. The sound of the wind smacked against the frame, and narwhals skated the surface of the waves. In the distance to their north and northeast, dark purplish storm clouds rained heavy snow and sleet across the water's horizon; within minutes, the snow was upon them and an ominous white blanket engulfed their surroundings drowning anything that remotely resembled configuration. The instrument panels saved them, and Nida and Xu remained glued to their seats succinctly following every change and pattern.

By noon, the external mechanisms of the vessel started sputtering and the heating system commenced sporadic shutdowns. Nida flicked open a panel and did an emergency upstart. That worked for several seconds, and then the vessel started rocking.

Nida looked sharply at Squall. "This is suicide!"

Squall cracked his knuckles. There was virtually nothing of sight outside of the windows.

"Squall!!"

"Go west."

Quistis behind him mouthed to Xu _What's west?_ Nida wasted no time. He manually took hold of the steering wheel and drove the bastard vessel over ninty degrees. Flicking multple switches, he ignited a deep booster that used up one more energy capsule to ignite and shuddered the massive beast in its wake. Geysers of water sprayed up into the air around them, and the cloud of ice slowly began to dissipate. Opening the Garden up to a hundred and thirty knots, the defroster wipers opened their field of vision up to the western portion of land on the Trabian continent. The medium-sized port city of Ithius loomed into view, looking mighty gloomy as always.

The pirate ships were circulating, and Squall nodded to Nida to avoid them. There was a small beachhead to the east of the city, and the driver crested land at precisely 1300 hours. The motors slowed to a grind, and a warning klaxon alerted in the cockpit. The energy boosters died, and the strippings unhooked. Sparks flew as the enormous hull glided clumsily on the dirt. Nida and his crew hit the emergency brake, and Balamb Garden came to a sloppy halt. Nida cursed and smacked the console hard.

"Dammit! I knew this would happen!"

"Quiet, Nida," Cid said. "Everything has a purpose in life. Tell us where we're at."

Nida looked at the LCD screens. "Ten miles east of Ithius. Twenty miles south of the Cypress Lagoon. Fifty miles west of Trabia Garden." He looked at the map some more. Just a few mile northwest of the corrupt town of Ithius was a trio of islands marked by peculiar land features. "Up there is Nagansett."

"Ah, yes," Cid said. "The land of the Shumi."

Squall widened his eyes. "When we fought NORG, Headmaster, did you not say the Shumi are adept at trade?"

"Oh very much so. Though, I don't know, Squall. Times have changed since the Sorceress War."

"What do you mean?"

"The War cost many lives and ties. The Shumi, with the exception of our Garden Master who as I said earlier was an outcast, were largely driven to isolationism."

"Shit."

"Never hurts to try. Just like what Selphie said."

"Settled then. We'll meet with the Shumi to discuss possible trade barriers. That could help us with the future war at stake. Plus, if they have any energy capsules or parts for vessels, that will be of even greater significance. The usual five will go with me, sir."

"Bundle up, Squall. It's mighty cold outside."

"Will do, sir."

* * *

Nagansett.

A land of beauty and cold. All year long. The wind hardly died down, but when it did one could get so mesmerized it was possible to freeze to death in wonder. The soil was green, rich with nutrients Estharian and Galbadian scientists had cultivated into medicinal drugs and powders to soothe the soul. Illicit drugs had been made, too, but nobody ever liked to talk about that. The soil of green led up to the mountains of blue. Strangely, they weren't called the Blue Mountains since that name was already taken for the range on the island of Alcauld. No, these mountains were called the Acrid Mountains for-- in certain parts-- an acrid odor of swamp water permeated all areas of its peaks. The blue hue was extraordinary, though, deep and frosty. It corresponded with the pinkish snow at the peak and trailed down to the effortless dark green herby soil with a delicate and delicious flavor.

There were forests sporadically laid out here and there, home to strange and abomniable creatures. Dragons in the east, Ochus in the north, and Gremlins in the west. Guardians of the GFs who presumbaly kept their statues and shrines up here. Shiva, Siren, Carbuncle, and Alexander supposedly had worshipper's shrines up here. The religious pilgrims who dared to brave the terrible weather and the monolithic creatures were supposedly granted eternal freedom at the god's behest. The forests were bad enough, but the plains also held interesting creatures. Squall was fluent with one of the creatures. The juices of the Mesmerize, a demented unicorn with blood-red eyes and a sharp-as-hell horn shaped like a sickel, were used to create one of his gunblades. Another creature, the Gayla, was a strange land-based manta ray that gorged itself mostly on the green soil. If it was strangely starving, it could turn on humans. Another peculiar sight, based strictly on anonymous sightings, was the famous Chocobos. Strictly anonymous sightings.

The six young people were bundled up from head to toe, and they left the comfort and safety of the vessel with the three island villages of Nagansett in sight. The Garden lay on a large hill, and the wind had died down long enough to get them a glimpse of the mainland and islands. Wooden bridges connected each to each other and to the mainland. Hundreds of huts dotted each island with a large main hut directly in the center of each island. The closest one was about a mile away, so they huddled together and walked steadily towards it. Zell was disobeying a strict order to get some rest both from the doctor and his girlfriend-- of course, that was the thing he lived for the most.

They made their way to the first bridge, but Squall stopped suddenly and gasped.

"What!" Quistis shouted above the wind. "What is it?"

Squall pointed and did not say anything. The others looked at his point and gasped as well. Rinoa still did not know the full significance of the other's happenings, but by being with them for so long it had taken a toll. All six of them silently beheld a common bond.

A large statue of Laguna Loire stood tall and proud on the westernmost peninsula of the Trabian continent, just two miles south of the islands. The carving was bronze and rooted deep with a large mound on the green soil. The carved man was depicted in a pious pose with both hands on his hips and staring into the Sun with that familiar goofy smile on his face.

"What does it mean?" Zell asked.

Squall merely shook his head. The cold was getting to him, so he turned and walked in a daze out onto the wooden bridge. The water looked too icy to even consider, so they plunged straight ahead. The bridge wasn't long to reach the first island, and what greeted them afterwards was a series of huts that looked empty on the outset. It looked to be a commercial district, judging from the item hooks most common in bazaars. Some residential huts looked to be on the outside, but no presence of Shumi met their appearance. The place was too cold.

"Damn," Irvine said. "I thought these creatures were cold-lovers."

"I don't know what to tell you," Squall said.

The layout of the village was interesting. A gridlock fashion just like a city with one main road linking from the bridge to a gigantic dome-like structure with glass panel streamlined in opulent color-changing shards. Smaller roads linked off the main pass into back alleyways where the residents would have lived in and where the shops were located. Still, the fact that no one was around was startling. The dome structure was enticing them, for above all else it looked warmer than this outside temperature. The group followed Squall's lead, as he slowly walked up the stony road to the dome's entrance. It was opulent, yes, and about twenty stories tall. The top was glass and the bottom was something of organic material, the bestial stuff found in children's mythology stories. The very fibre of a fantasy novel.

They walked up to the door, which appeared sealed from the inside. A big gray shield of a door, impenetrable. There was a control panel to the left, but the Sun's rays of light were clouded by the mists of the continent's snowstorms, so the panel was shrouded in darkness. Squall grunted and reached for his sword. He winced at the tinge of the cold weather against his skin and drew out the Flame Sabre. Its red glint caught elements of the sky and flashed upon the control panel. A glint appeared off it and struck the blade of his sword. A hidden weight clamped down on his grip, and something clicked inside the door. Steam billowed out the hinges, and the shield swung open revealing a blue darkness within.

Squall looked at his friends with a peculiar expression that didn't make them feel any better.

He shrugged his shoulders and kept the sword out at the ready. Irvine put a hand on the holster of his Bismarck, Quistis touched her Slaying Tail, Selphie gripped her Crescent Wish, Rinoa thought about her weapon, and Zell just sucked in air. They entered the dome.

It was dark at first. There was a light, but it was subdued. A clammy feel of humidity was very much apparant. The door slammed shut behind them as soon as the last person crossed its threshold. The glass ceiling above brought in the light, but its opulent colors changed the tone of the expansive room into a kaleidoscope of hues. The greener colors showed off the most details, but over time their eyes grew accustomed to their surroundings. The floor was mushy, as if they were stepping over eggs. The walls looked alive, and indeed they were with microscopic bacteria. The room was big and resembled something of a conference hall. Strange orbs and idols lay embedded in the floor. Some resembled Guardian Forces, some resembled politicians that must have represented the Shumi tribes. Others were incongrous.

Something clicked to their left, and they turned immediately to it. A bright orange and red orb floated in the air. It smelled really good, too.

They walked up to it, and it floated higher in the air to meet them. It was a fantastic-looking object, a orb gleaming with intensity the likes of which none of them had ever seen before. Zell wanted to touch it, Selphie too. All five of them were eagerly looking at Squall for a reason to touch it. It was extravagant, but he wasn't here to dilly-dally with mindless orbs.

Still.....

He reached out a hand.

"Ho-ho!!!"

The sound made them all jump, and Irvine got a trigger finger. His Bismarck sounded off, and a great blast torched the ceiling and blew out one of the glass panels high up, sending sharp shards of glass down to the floor below.

"Wow---sers!!!" screeched another voice.

Squall clicked a round into his gunblade and held it at the ready. "Who's there?!?"

Mindless chatter greeted him. A third voice, more expressive and nasally than the other two, sounded up. "Away put your weapons, good children. We Shumi mean no harm at all. Only mere fun, though, of course!"

Squall and the others slowly relaxed themselves and sheathed their weapons. A dozen Shumi popped out of the darkness into more of the opulent light. The memories of NORG touched at the minds of Squall, Rinoa, and Quistis, and the other three looked on with great surprise. The twelve creatures were tall, fat, and pompous-looking. They each had beady yellow eyes, cloved limbs, and triple chins. They wore strange robes clad in indecipherable languages and designs. There seemed to be a class heiarchy, for some wore green robes, red robes, and white robes. In all honesty, they were quite the strange sight.

"Only mere fun, of course," the Shumi responded again.

"We... apologize for barging in," Squall began. "We were headed for Trabia Garden, but this violent snowstorm has stalled our ship a bit."

"Trabia.. Garden." The twelve creatures resorted to a gaggle of conversation in unintelligible speech. "Oh.. kind sir. That place is only a mass of twisted metal now."

Selphie sighed. Squall grunted. "I know, but there may still be people there in need of help."

"Ah..." the Shumi replied, "a benevolent one. Much like yo---"

"Hush now!" another Shumi said.

"What?"

The twelve congregated together and started speaking in the strange language again. Parts of it came in comprehensible speech, and the six humans heard the mention of "gunblade" come into use, as well as Laguna's name and something to do with "Moombas". Finally, the Shumi shook each other's hand, apparantly on the basis of a common agreement to some kind of argument. Half of them turned to Squall and kindly bowed and then left. Five of the other half bowed and then went to let in a bit more light into the room. The last Shumi walked up to them and did a sweeping motion with his hand.

"Welcome to Dadanga! This is the smallest of the Shumi villages, yet the most important. It is here where our Chief lives."

"What luck," Zell whispered in Quistis's ear.

"I see you've found our Black Magic," the Shumi said.

The six humans looked at the glowing red and orange orb. "Black Magic," Squall asked.

"They call it Ultima, the elites do. Very powerful. _Very_ powerful."

"Ultima," Quistis gasped. "The most powerful magicka on the planet."

They all took a moment to sink that in. Squall looked at the Shumi. "What are you all doing with it?"

"During the Sorceress War," the Shumi said, "we were given it by some travelling peddlers from Ithius. They had used some of it for bad purposes, and it had caused lots of trouble within their city limits." The creature took a good long look at both Squall and the orb. "If you want it, you can have it. For five thousand gil, of course."

He knew Zell and even Selphie would've harked about that, and Squall was glad that both Quistis and Irvine had their grip firmly in place. "That must be some real powerful stuff then," the gunblader said.

"I've seen what it can do," the Shumi said, a little ominously.

Squall got out the gil and handed it to the creature. The orb made a small noise and floated toward Squall. The Shumi cleared his throat. "The process might give you a slight sting."

Squall looked sharply at the Shumi, but the creature was already backing away. The orb in front of him glowed brighter than ever, and small bands of red electrical energy exploded off the artifact and slammed straight into his body. He was forced onto the ground, and the orb essentially melted away inside his body. The girls screamed, and the guys kneeled down beside him. Squall's eyes popped open to their fullest, and steam erupted off his body. A great power surged through him and warmed every nerve of his body. A great enrichment fed him, made him stronger, more potent, and more deadly. He immediately rose up with great speed and breathed a sigh of relief.

His five companions and the Shumi within the room looked at him in awe. He kept nodding his head and sported a very goofy smile. For an instant, the expression reminded him of Laguna; and that thought troubled him a bit. He became aware of everyone staring at him, so he cleared his throat, straightened himself up, and looked for the Shumi.

"Squall, man!" Zell shouted.

He looked at the excited brawler.

"How is it?"

"It's.... it's something alright."

"Squall.... is it not?" the Shumi asked.

"Yes, it is, sir."

"Be very careful with that magic. Who knows in its fullest power what it could possibly do."

"I'll keep an eye on it, sir."

"I got a question," Irvine asked.

"Oh, what is it?" the Shumi said.

"How come the village outside is empty?"

"Oh, during the winter solstice we migrate inside as the night weather is a bit too cold for even _us_ to handle. Down below, through that elevator over there, is a place of much warmer climate. Do feel free to come shop with us or speak with the Chief! We sell a whole lot of good stuff."

"Anywhere that's warm," Rinoa said.

"I second that!" Selphie shouted.

The Shumi laughed and pointed. "Right over there!"

Squall led the way to the elevator, and the two Shumi nearest it pushed some buttons and the door propped open. More intricate textures greeted them inside the elevator which seemed half the size as the room they just left. It was warm in there, and six coat racks were hanging on the wall. They each stripped off their heavy jackets and placed them on the hooks. Six benches made up the seating space, and they sat one a piece. An intercom buzzed over them, and a nice chirpy voice greeted them. "Welcome to Dadanga. You all have been specially permitted to stay here for as long as you like. Please, enjoy your stay." The elevator descended for about a minute, before the freight halted and the doors opened to a brilliant warmness. A bright light greeted them, and Selphie and Rinoa were the first ones out.

The underground village of Dadanga looked hardly the site of an underground cave. There seemed to be a small sun shining up in the highest arching ceiling. The walls were cave-like but as organic as the room above. Birds chirped and flew among the patch of forests dotted around each of the huts. The huts themselves were designed like mushrooms and contained the same opulent quality as the glass dome above.

There were some Shumi walking among the trees and some wading down by the pond that lay in the center. Some were behaving strangely around a small incomplete statue directly in front of the pond. The six humans walked up closer, and Squall again felt a pang of confusion.

"Another statue of Laguna," he said softly. The others muttered behind him.

A squeal yelled out, startling all of them again. One particularly fat Shumi waddled out in front of them. Decked out in a green robe with the intricate language and design patterns etched out in purple, the creature had an unbelievable fourth chin underneath the fold. Squall was aware of other Shumi noticing them. "You know Master Laguna?"

"_Master_... Laguna?" Squall asked.

Sounds and chants from other Shumi, sounding choruses of the bumbling former Galbadian soldier's name, rang up all around them. A group of them clustered around the back of the statue and bowed in prayer.

"Absolutely, sir," the fat Shumi said. He (as far as the group could tell it was a he) looked at the six humans with awe. "You know Master Laguna?"

"Well..." Squall said, thinking hard about a good response, "sort of."

"Mm, wow. His name is known far and wide then." He indicated the incomplete statue. "This is Laguna Loire. Long ago, we had the priviledge of meeting him twice and both times he made time to make our lives better in the long run. The first time we met was at the colliseum in Ithius, where he helped to stop the further slaughtering of our precious Moombas. Much to the dismay of the Ithian government, of course, but they are beyond corrupt in everyone's books."

Squall was aware of Irvine and Quistis looking at him knowingly, and he felt slightly relieved that the dream sequences were still working appropriately.

"The second time we met him was a week later. He had told us he was looking for a little girl who was kidnapped by some faraway people. The man was benevolent and kind, but he wasn't exactly a smart one. He got lost going east from the city and he ended up going north and then west over to our villages. Don't ask me why, it just happened. Anyway, a Moomba found him in one of the forests outside of this camp, and he was covered in blood. Two others were with him, and they were in the same condition. They had apparantly gotten involved with one of those savage Gremlin creatures, and it really did a number on them. The Moomba managed to support them all across the wooden bridge and deposited them here. The Artisan recognized them immediately and was quite grateful. We were able to nurse them back to health, and the Moombas were quite excited. News of the trio's Ithian struggle had spread fast among the creature's population, and they were all really excited with the three men."

Apparantly the Shumi were, too. The humans witnessed the creatures doing new chants and seeming to sparkle with a hidden radiance. An image not that uncommon with the red-orange Moomba creatures seemed to be churning on their robes.

The fat Shumi cleared his throat. "If you wish to know more about Master Laguna, please feel free to talk to the Elder. The Artisan is up there, too, and he has any wares you travellers need on your journey." He turned to the statue a minute and then turned back. "I am the Sculptor by the way. I make every stone in this village."

"Every stone?" Selphie asked.

"Every and all, my child."

"Wow..." she cooed, and the others felt compelled to do the same thing.

The Sculptor patted Squall's arm. "Sculptor thinks you should go see the Elder. He might have some good words for you."

Squall fought the urge for a sarcastic remark, regarding the creature's sudden use of third-person. "Um.. sure, we'll go see him immediately."

"Excellent. For a foreigner, you have a good heart. Just like him." He gestured to the statue.

Squall took a look at the sculpture and shook his head. "I'm nothing like him."

The group looked at him, but he had another question before anyone could say something. "Are Moombas so valuable to this area?"

The crowd around them started cooing and nodding their heads. "Oh, most definitely, traveller." The Sculptor nodded his head. "We do more than just raise them here. They are really us in return. You see, the Moomba is the final form we Shumis take."

"Final Form?"

"Aye, yes. It seems complicated or _foreign_ to a foreigner--" A sound of laughter chortled around them, and he had to laugh himself. "Never mind the laughter, young one, we Shumi love to hoarse around. It's in our blood. Well, excluding the ones qualified to be Elders, all Shumi evolve at a certain stage in our lives. We become what is in our hearts. It is similar to an ancient test, a test of the strength of our love and of our honor."

"Honor... Love.." the chants of the Shumi around them echoed louder and louder.

"Often, those who fail the test to become honorable Elders turn into Moombas. The Elders are like councils and judges, the legal side of our culture and the honor of our tribes. The Moombas represent our love and our passion. It is that passion that is the true ingenuity of our being. It's their hearts that give rise to their red hair."

A squeal alerted them, and they all turned to see one Shumi kneel to the ground. It was a female Shumi, and she shook her head wildly and let out a strange yet soothing coo. Within her robes, her body was shrinking and steaming, and every overt feature of her Shumi form was dissipating right before their eyes. The other Shumi, including the Sculptor, were enraptured by the occurrence. Squall and his friends were stricken where they stood, and they only watched in fascination. The Shumi's robes fell to the ground, and a spark zapped atop them. A red mist coated together around an orange core that materialized right above the robes. Another spark zapped the orb, and reddish-orange fur and beady eyes formed in its place. Another spark zapped that, and the form of a Moomba blasted into appearance and fell on the ground. Steam billowed up to the vaulting ceiling, and shouts and cheers erupted around the village. The surrounding Shumi helped the newcomer up to its feet, and the Moomba made a few cooing sounds. Its fur shed new warmness to the place and seemed to brighten the landscapes around them.

A very pleasant sight.

The fat Shumi sighed contendedly. "Ah... the noble features of the Moomba. Those gem-like eyes, the very radiance of innocence. That bright red hair, the very radiance of passion, signifying power! Their soothing, adorable cries! Those mighty hands, the very essence of strength! Their proud postures. So demanding of respect!!"

The Moomba cried out with joy and leapt into the pond and started swimming the length. The other Shumi cried as well and started chanting again.

"That Shumi... had become what she sought all along."

The humans didn't know whether to feel admiration or horror. A tremor had gone through each of them.

"It is interesting," the fat Shumi continued, "to see each new traveller's reactions to these transformations. Laguna, he was admirable in his gaze. When he first saw the transformation, he immediately began writing about it. He gave us a snippet of an article that had appeared in a foreign newspaper, and it was glowing about the transformation. He and his two friends loved their stay here. They made many friends with the villagers."

Squall slowly looked around him. Laguna was probably right, despite his bumbling self. The Shumi and Moombas were quite extraordinary. This explained now fully why the Moombas at the prison seemed eager to chirp his name so joyfully... so... _hope_fully. "We'll go see the Elder now."

"Yes, yes, yes. I am sorry to keep you. Go, he is expecting you."

"Thank you, Sculptor."

Squall led the way around the pond and up a mudbrick stairway. More huts lined the back end of the village, and the Elder's hut was easily recognizable. It was bigger than the others, and several Moombas guarded the entrance. They all seemed to smile as the six of them walked past. Squall pushed open the blue doors, and an attendant greeted them immediately.

"We appreciate you coming forward," she said sweetly.

She led the way further in, and the hut expanded into something of a great room. Strangely enough, there were tons of aquariums lined across the walls and another opulent ceiling with rubies and topazes crafted into the glass roof. The Elder and the Artisan sat in comfy chairs smoking weed and engaged in mindless chatter.

"Ah, travellers of a faraway land," the Elder spoke. He was clad in red robes and wore many gold chairs around his neck below the fattest chin. "Some of the Moombas around Nagansett witnessed your enormous vessel stalling out on the Futrol Plains. If you need any equipment for the riggings, the Artisan here has just the right tools for you."

"That would be most grateful, sir," Squall said.

"Do please take a seat, each of you," the Artisan said, waving his huge hand in a slow arc. The drugs must have been good, for he took a long look at his hand after waving it around the room.

The humans took a seat, and the Elder's attendant heated up a big peacepipe and started passing it among them. Much to Quistis's approval, the weed was exceptionally good and rich in substance. Much to everyone's surprise, Selphie bore the slightest hesitation. All the perkiness of her character was strangely absent in the company.

After a while, and much blueish-green smoke dotting the glass ceiling, the Elder spoke again. "Since you have come here, then you must know Master Laguna, no?"

Squall raised his eyebrows. He hoped he wouldn't have to go through the same spiel again. "Yes, sir, we do."

"Well, good. He was a good man. We don't know where he is now, but we are sure he is making a name of himself." He drew in another bit of his pipe. "Seventeen years ago, he was brought to us. Injured. Word of his exploits in Ithius had already garnered considerable praise amongst the majority of us right, Artisan?"

"Absolutely right."

"We believe him to still be in Esthar, but none of us have seen an Estharian traveller since that time. Of course, the war is over, but... still the city sleeps away, lost in the mist over on that continent. He was in the process of going there. A little girl named Ellone was captured by the Estharians with help from the zombie stalwarts that roam the districts of Ithius. It was actually these zombie stalwarts that pursued them from the gates of Ithius and chased them around the length of Trabia. They cornered them in one of the Gremlin forests, but they were strong enough to battle their way out. The wounds were deep in each of the three men. Three, you see, for Master Laguna travelled with two equal Masters-- a Kiros Seagill and a Ward Zabac. We did the best we could with each of their injuries.

"They were the most patient, energetic, and humble men we had ever seen. During his time here, Laguna attempted to teach the Moombas how to speak. How to _enunciate_ their chirps into words. He wasn't broadly successful, but we were stunned to find that the Moomba's mouths were able to form the way the words would have sounded. Their chemical makeup, however, prevented them from finishing the deed."

"Why did he want to do that?" Squall asked.

"Oh, he felt sorry for them. You see, the Moombas had done most of the healing powers. In their hands are soft pressure points that connect to their bloodstream and fuel the healing process. There are synthetic mitochondria in their blood that is the world's strongest antioxidents. It is probably the ultimate panacea. Laguna, Kiros, and Ward were all cured by them, and they felt eternally grateful to the little creatures. Laguna wanted to return the favor ever so much. The Moombas didn't know any words to express themselves, only their actions could do that. The young man was stubborn in his ways, but he truly felt a compelling passion. He said that words are useful and precious, and any attempt to hinder their utterance was deemed a sinful practice.

"I understood what he meant, even if _he_ wasn't quite good at expressing _himself_ in words. He was a bit of a klutz, and I can tell from your smiles that you feel the same way. Tell me, though, have you met him?"

Squall looked at the others. "Not personally, no."

"Then how do you know him?"

"Ooh.. we really don't know. We have this running hypothesis that Ellone... that little girl from before...has some sort of.. divine power. She is able to somehow inject us back into the past and witness little clips of his, Laguna's, past."

The Artisan choked on his peacepipe. The Elder and his assistant gasped, and then immediately tried to hide their surprise. The Artisan did his best to do the same thing.

Squall looked back and forth between each of them. "Please, if you have something to say, I'd really like to know."

"Oh no, no, no," the Elder said, shaking his head. "It is nothing."

"Nothing, huh?"

"Yes, nothing. We always like to hear of divine acts. It makes the time fly by quickly."

"Mm, yes, indeed," the Artisan concurred.

The group of humans weren't convinced.

The Elder waved it away. "Getting back to him, we could definitely sense what he wanted most. He was so eager to save Ellone, that he was willing to do anything to save her. His eyes, more than his words, told us that. That is really all I wished to convey about him."

Squall looked behind him in the general direction of the incomplete statue. "You got one there by the pond and a larger one outside the village. Why are you building statues of him?"

"You find it odd, no? Most travellers feel the same way. Well, we believe Master Laguna has a certain trait. He has an uncanny ability to soften even the most hardened of hearts. It is an ability I have not seen and have not seen since in a human being. We Shumi still cannot put a full trace on the source, so we decided to build a statue, a monument if you will, of him. By doing so, we hope that we come to a greater understanding of why Master Laguna is so special."

Squall again bit back the words that he really wanted to say. How could this bumbling clown be so admired by everyone?

"You... carry a blade of fire, no?" the Artisan asked Squall.

"A blade of fire?"

"That blade on your hip."

Squall looked down at his hip and then chuckled. "No, no. This is called a gunblade. I guess the 'fire' part is the gun chamber you all are noticing."

The Artisan made a little gasp, and he and the Elder exchanged looks. They descended into some unintelligible conversation and made little waving motions with their hands. Squall looked at his friends, and they looked just as confused as he surely looked. The Artisan then stood up and addressed Squall. "Please, good sir, come with me. I'd like to show you something."

"And," the Elder said, standing up as well, "if the rest of you would like to sample some of our wares, please follow me. I'm guessing since he's the appointed leader of your group, I would ask that the second-in-command sign off on some of our ship parts you may need."

Quistis waved her hand in recognition, and the other four followed her. Squall went into a small annex off the left side of the room and listened to the unsettling but enthusiastic mumblings of the Artisan as he opened five locks on a specific door and opened it to a very musty smell.

"There's a humidifyer in here to keep some of our precious relics intact."

"That's... good," Squall managed to say.

The Artisan pointed at Squall's Flame Sabre. "That is a weapon that is unmatched by any who wield blades. Apparantly, as you say, it can even defy the physics of guns. Show me." The Artisan pointed to a sliding-glass door, and Squall went to open it. The two of them walked down a small tunnel, and the Artisan went to a control panel. He pushed several buttons, and an airtight seal shut off the tunnel behind them and a large door opened in front. The outdoors were revealed, a setting more peaceful and better-smelling. Squall took a deep breath and felt more relieved.

"Here," the Artisan said. He held a clay pigeon in his hand. Squall wondered where this was going, but he held the hilt of his gunblade anyway. The Artisan flung it into the air, and the Flame Sabre whipped out. Squall pressed the trigger, and a shell blasted out the chamber, caught the special mechanism on the blade, and whipped across the length of the blade in a fiery gleam. Traces of fire split off the end of the tip, and the shell rocketed into the clay pigeon and burst it into thousands of flaming particles.

"Wo---ow!!" the Artisan said falling down on his ass. He got up slowly on purpose, savoring the moment. "Just like the light green model Master Laguna perfected."

Squall slowly brought down his weapon. "_He_ used a gunblade?"

"Not initially. He still preferred the use of Galbadian battle rifles. We had the parts to make a gunblade, though. One of the few places in the world that did. He was curious, more than anything, and he spent about a week building that simple model. Simple, in a generic sense, it was the lightest gunblade model and fired shotgun shells."

That sounded familiar to Squall. "A...Hyperion model."

"I think that's what it was called. Hyperion, yeah. Something like that."

Squall looked at the Shumi with astonishment. He thought he had heard things, but what had come out of the creature's mouth was unmistakable. The question now was... How?

"Master Laguna made another blade before he left. He seemed to have been in a daze when he made it... sort of as if he was expecting it to be given to someone. It's a very...twisted design. I have never seen anyone else who was interested in the gunblade design, and I thought for years to discard the thing. Yet, it was Master Laguna's work, and I just couldn't do away with it." The Artisan regarded Squall's perplexed expression with a teasing smile and placed his big hand on the SeeD's shoulder. "Come and see for yourself."

They reentered the musty room, and the Artisan brought out a large chest. "It's pressure-sealed, so don't be alarmed by any sudden sparks or smoke. It hasn't been open in over sixteen years."

There was indeed a spark and quite a bit of smoke, as the Shumi depressed the levers and released the locks. He cranked the top open, and Squall gasped for the first time in his life.

The weapon was an incredible sight. Two silver serrated blades fused together by a narrow strip of succubus energy. A femur from a T-Rexaur was fused with the canine of a hexadragon and served as the weapons' gunblade chamber. The succubus energy had the ability to regenerate after prolonged sessions of nonusage. The hilt was expertly crafted with intricate carvings written in a language he did not understand.

The Artisan seemed to read his mind. "It say: _A great power in the right hands wields the mightiest of truths._ Master Laguna's friends were able to subdue one of the hexadragons in the western forests, and he was able to secure the tooth and bone together in just one day. A magnificent feat. The succubus energy we had and still have. We've been able to harness them into energy capsules, so your vessel can remain intact for a while."

"Amazing," Squall said breathlessly. He had wondered if he had blinked once in the past five minutes. "What do you call it?"

"The Twin Lance."

Squall grabbed the hilt and knew it was going to be heavy. He brought it out slowly and took in every detail, every magnificent part. He twirled it with an effortless swirl. It was heavy, of course, but were so some of the other types he had experienced in his life. The chest contained a dark blue scabbard, and he applied that to his hip. He sheathed the sword and pulled back his jacket to get a better look. Striking and magnificent. He practiced five or six times pulling the sword out and placing it back in. He practiced some fighting moves and even pretended to fire off the Twin Lance. The thought of encountering a monster at that moment filled him with a primordial sense of glee.

"A perfect fit," the Artisan said with a smile.

Squall held it in both hands. "It is. It sure is. Something like this must cost a fortune."

"Oh, good sir. It is no cost. No cost at all."

Squall looked at the Shumi in shock.

"The Elder and I see a lot of good in you. You seem a frosty person on the outside but one with a hidden charm, bursting at the seams to get out and make something useful and genuine of the world. This gunblade is a symbol of great power and fortitude, a weapon that should be only wielded by the truest of souls."

Squall snorted and dropped the blade by his side. "I think that's a little too grandiose for me, sir."

"You are too humble. Just like Master Laguna."

Squall shook his head and sheathed the Twin Lance in his scabbard. The adventure just got more interesting.

* * *

The wind outside had died down enough for Nida to scale the outside of Balamb Garden. He still wore a large coat and heavy gloves, which made his movement slow and cumbersome, but he had a duty to do. A toolbag was slung over his shoulder, and he used grappling hooks to ascend from the second-floor balcony to the axle coils that manipulated the movements of the vessel. Several of his subordinates were busy checking out the power boosters, and he had a radio comlink to alert the team in the cockpit to perform test-runs.

He wished that Squall and the others would hurry the hell up. They had been gone for several hours.

He reached the coils and flipped the panel open and cursed. The work was all meshed up with several of the main wires hobbled by frost and worn ends. He secured himself in place and opened the toolbag.

An abnormal shriek pierced the evening air.

His eyes darted in all directions. There were no lights at all around the landscape. The city of Ithius was miles south of them, and Nagansett wasn't lit up at this vantage point. The only light came from a couple skylights on Garden's bottom. Nothing was visible on the plains.

"Great Eden," he muttered to himself.

He pulled out several tools and a flashlight to help with the work and went at it. Several of the cords were tangled, and he was able to salvage parts of their cord. He clipped one end and got a good signal. Xu radioed in that some mechanisms on her panel were working again.

"Hurry up, would you. The temperature's dropping again!" she snapped over the comlink.

"Damn bitch," he muttered. He shook his head and snapped some more cords and fitted others in.

Another abnormal shriek, much closer this time, sounded off again. He almost dropped the toolbag and his grip on the edge of the Garden. Holding on tight, he flipped the flashlight around the plains and saw strange shadows flank against the bottom skylights. Several things, dark in appearance with beady red eyes, stormed along the ground.

They looked like undead unicorns.

Nida gulped. "Squall, you better hurry the fuck up now."

* * *

They were bound up back in their coats and standing in the large organic room with the Ultima draw point. Squall really wanted to use that gem someday. Irvine and Zell were wheeling a barrel with all the supplies needed to fix the ship, and Quistis and Selphie carried supply bags on their back filled with medicines and a small combination of magicka spells. Some of the Shumi came to escort them out of the giant dome, each with a smile of admiration on their faces. They were told they could come back any time they wanted, being deemed friends of the state.

The hydraulics system of the dome's exterior singed open, and the cold of the air came once again to meet them. It hit them hard, and they winced a bit. Taking note of the darkness, they realized it must have been several hours since they left the outdoors.

"How long have we been here?" Irvine yelled above the wind to no one in particular.

"When you're with the Shumi, time flies by rather quickly," yelled back all of the creatures. They waved goodbye to the distorted humans, and the hydraulic gate slammed shut.

His friends looked at him for the next orders, and Squall sighed again. This leadership role was weighing him down.

"Squall," Zell yelled. The wind was howling across the strait, and the icy water was hitting the wooden bridge with enough force to possibly smash it to pieces.

Squall looked at the brawler and did not say anything.

"What did you make of all that?"

"They were an unusual bunch, ta say the least!" Irvine joked.

"Their mannerisms were unusual," Squall replied, "but I think they had enough general concern hidden deep inside."

"Do you think there is a deeper connection with Sir Laguna than as far as the one with Ellone reveals?" Selphie asked.

"Possibly, but we cannot be sure of that."

"It is _really_ cold out here, guys," Rinoa said, wrapping her arms tight around her shoulders.

A sharp gust of wind blew against them, stumbling all six of them and almost knocking the barrel out of the guy's hands.

"Come on, let's go!" Squall yelled.

They left Dadanga's land and stepped onto the bridge. The force of the wind swayed the bridge, and they all gripped the ropes as hard as they could. Mists of water sprayed up and chilled each to the bone, sending shrieks out of the girls. Zell lost grip on his side of the barrel, and Squall rushed to swing it back from tipping into the water. Another gust of wind swayed the bridge further to the other side, and Irvine and Squall wrestled hard to keep the barrel upright.

Halfway across the span, a terrible screech alerted each of them and froze them in place.

There was a forest to the north end of the bridge and expansive plains to the south end. Something golden flickered among the trees in the forest, but something far darker seemed to pierce in waves along the plains. Another horrible shriek pierced the sky, and several pairs of red eyes became visible in the blistering cold.

"What the hell is that?!?" Irvine yelled.

A snarl sounded, and the six friends widened their eyes in shock as a foul unicorn-like creature with blood-red eyes blocked the end of the bridge. Pink breath snorted out its nose, and it pawed the green soil beneath it. Several more clamored up behind it. Squall knew exactly what they were: the infamous Mesmerizes that were infalliable in their bloodlust. Vicious pack hunters with a sickle-like horn growing out of their dark scalps.

He fished out the scabbard and drew the Twin Lance. "You two," he shouted at the other guys, "get behind me and hurry the hell up. I'll clear a path, and you get by. You three, just stay behind them." He didn't wait for an answer, and he ignored the swayings of the bridge.

The closest Mesmerize in front of him whinnied and slammed hard on the ground. Squall cocked the gunblade to the ready and blew an energy shell off the blade. It rocketed with tremendous force and sound, cracking the air like a whip and splattering the creature's skull. The Mesmerize fell back several feet, and a snarl of confusion erupted among the pack. Squall rushed forward. In his mind, he thought it was a good plan, but as the mainland came more and more into view and the wind parted a bit to reveal more of the land... he was starting to have second thoughts.

The plains were covered with the horrible creatures, and more emerged from the darkness like wraiths. Zell and Irvine scooted right behind him and got off the bridge and set the heavy barrel down on the soil. Selphie was right behind, the Crescent Wish out in her hand. The Mesmerizes charged immediately, leaping into the air with hooves cloved in sharp blades. Squall spun and swung his heavy blade; it restricted his movement to clumsy swings, but there was power in his arms and the double-bladed weapon smashed through ribs and hewed several in half. Three Mesmerizes galloped the earth behind him and pummeled him to the ground. They reared up and prepared to strike their horns in unison on his body.

Irvine cursed and blasted one of the unicorns in the back with his gun, while Selphie and Quistis simultaneously hooked their blunt weapons in the other two creatures. Selphie's Crescent Wish instantly crushed the skull of one of them, while Quistis's Slaying Tail hooked into the back of one unicorn and knocked it down hard to the soil snapping its neck. The other Mesmerizes snarled viciously and stopped their prance. They pawed the ground hard and jerked their heads in a slick snap. The horns in their scalps snapped off and whipped through the air like a boomerang. Rinoa dove to the ground, narrowly missing one. Zell missed one, too, but fell face-first in the icy water. Irvine blew two horns to pieces with well-timed shots, and the last horn slicked across Quistis's left shoulder stumbling her to the ground. The three horns that made it back to their owners snapped firmly back in place, while the other two Mesmerizes shriveled into dust.

Irvine reloaded and charged the swarm of creatures, while Rinoa pulled out her Shooting Star and fired three shots into the closest creatures. The darts were so sharp that sliced straight through the toughened muscle of the creatures, going so far as to shrivel their bodies into boneless heaps. Squall heaved himself up and joined Rinoa and Irvine's crescendo with the speed and tenacity of his gunblade. Selphie steeled her nerves and fished Zell out of the water. His body was starting to turn blue, but he still had a pulse.

Irvine expelled eight shots of his Bismarck before he was forced to reload again. Except he was out of shells. A Mesmerize charged him, and he could only look up helpless. Squall beheaded one Mesmerize with an energy shell, somersaulted over its dead body, and flung the weapon straight into the heart of the leaping monster. Another was on its heels, and Squall ripped the blade out, whirled around, and beheaded the monster with one clean swipe.

Over the hill, another swarm descended upon them. Rinoa had five darts left in her first round, and she dispatched them all, managing to land only two successful hits-- the cold affecting her aim and state of mind. The howls of creatures were terrible, and their lust was relentless. Quistis hauled herself up in a bewildered state and weakly tossed Irvine another round of shells. He reloaded in a beleagured state, and Squall himself was cursing their luck, or lack of it. The temperature was fast dropping once more, and the wind was picking up. Two dozen unicorns lay dead around them, but their stamina was draining. A line of fifteen Mesmerize were encroaching fast. Irvine did the best he could, and he tried to control his breathing as he expelled all eight of his shells. Three of them splattered skulls, four missed entirely, and one barely grazed the shoulder of a fourth Mesmerize. Their whinnings became antagonizing.

Squall's hand was ice and he buried it in his coat and winced hard. That hand, though, touched something hard, and he winced some more and pulled it out. It was the Ultima gem. "Sonofabitch," he muttered. He squeezed it and felt a strong wave of intensity erupt through his body. A sound emanated out of him, loud and forceful that stalled all the Mesmerize that had encircled them. There were at least forty all around them, but they were now disoriented and staring at him with a coldness that was frightening. The intensity was starting to burn his palm, but he couldn't let go. He cried out in pain, and his friends looked at him in horror, wanting to do something but powerless to. He cried out again, and a bright light radiated off of him. He levitated off the ground, and a big green ball formed above him. A mist steamed all around it, and he finally caved in under the pressure and exhaled. He collapsed to the ground, and the ball shot forward towards a big mass of Mesmerize and exploded, ripping the bodies apart like paper dolls. Chunks of sand and soil flew in all directions and flattened the middle part of the hill to form a distinctive bell curve in the landscape. The Mesmerize not immediately killed were flung in all directions, and the six humans themselves were blown back a bit on the sand. Zell almost tipped back into the water with Selphie in tow. Her knapsack and the bulky barrel tipped over onto the soil, spilling some of its contents.

The Ultima spell destroyed nearly all of the unicorns and routed the rest, but something else was awakened... and quite pissed. Another howl, more louder and distinctive, pierced the night air and seemed to die down the wind. A pair of orange eyes clipped through the trees of the forests, and a dark blue dragon slithered out into view. Fire trickled over its green teeth, and it let out another terrible roar. Irvine cursed and let loose some fire magic from his fingers. The fireball shot across the green soil and burned into the dragon's right shoulderblade. The mythic monster lowered its head on impact and snarled at the cowboy. Fighting fire with fire, it opened its maw and exhaled a fire breath a hundred times more potent than Irvine's wimpy spell. The flames scorched the earth, and descended down towards them. Squall grabbed Rinoa and Irvine and flung them down to the ground. The flames broiled over them, and they felt instantly warm for a few seconds.

The dragon closed its maw and then seemed to laugh a bit. It had a serpentine body but large albatross wings in the middle of its back, and it took to flight for a short distance before crashing to the ground by them. Squall got up and slashed hard at the head of the dragon before it could breathe on them again. The slash knocked some green blood out of its cheek, but the dragon barrelled its tail into Squall's chest and flung a football field across the plain. Rinoa depressed the sharp knife from her bowgun and flung it straight into the dragon's left eye. The dragon reared back and breathed fire into the air before wrenching the knife out with one quick thrust of its neck. It snarled at Rinoa and flung its tail at her. She dove to the ground and dodged it, rolled across the soil, and fired a dart into the dragon's body. It reeled and snarled again. Irvine expelled as much fireballs as his magicka supply could hold. The balls were weak and consumed all his supply, but they were enough to quell the beast from using its own fireballs. Quistis took a deep breath and ran towards the dragon. She cracked her whip against the air and flung the bladed-end into the pus-filled hole Rinoa had made in the left eye. It held, and Quistis somersaulted up onto the creature's head. It reeled back upright, but she held on and flicked the whip out. She had a knife in her belt, and she snaked it out and plunged it into the veiny neck and slid all the way down to the base of the shoulder blades, cutting a deep vertical gash down the neck and spilling green blood all down the dragon's torso. The dragon sputtered and hissed and used one of its legs to wrench her off its body and flung her across the soil.

Selphie charged, tossing Irvine a few more rounds of shells. The cowboy blew holes in the kneecaps of the dragon, and Selphie worked to expand the wounds with quick thrusts of her nunchaku. The dragon was getting pissed, but it was also losing health and becoming delirious. Selphie dodged two thrusts of its tail, but she was decked in the head on the third and flung into the air. Zell forced himself up. His head reeled, but he had a GF on him. He called forth Ifrit in his mind and slumped back to the ground, as the fire god sprang into the cold. The dragon hissed at the brown horned creature, and the two forces collided head-to-head. Ifrit slammed the dragon's chest with its two horns and made deep gashes. The dragon breathed its fire breath onto Ifrit's skin, but it did no damage. The GF smacked its clawed hand onto one of the dragon's wings and tore the appendage off, causing a great howl to escape the dragon. The dragon sunk its teeth into Ifrit's neck and kept a steady hold. Ifrit cried out in pain and rolled the dragon onto its back and punched hard into its breastbone, breaking the ribcage in two. The dragon let go, and Ifrit breathed a melting fireball straight into the wound it created, melting the heart of the dragon completely. Green blood caked Ifrit's face, and the dragon heaved one final sigh before apyhsixating on its own blood. The fire GF wiped the blood of its face and then melted away into the darkness.

Squall and Quistis lay where they were. Irvine and Rinoa stumbled a bit and then fell on their face. Zell lay where he was, hypothermia physically starting to claim him. Selphie was unconcious.

Snow started to fall on them, and the temperature had fallen well below freezing. Squall Leonhart cursed himself for no apparant reason. There was nothing he could've done to prevent this, he knew that. This was a horrible way to die. He was cold yes, but now he was starting to get warm. He knew that was not a good sign, but it felt really fucking good. He tried to look around him, but the movement was too sore to allow that.

He instead just closed his eyes. It was more comfortable not to see anything. Least of all, it helped against the pelting snow which was starting to feel rough to the touch. All their plans were ruined now because a bunch of goddamned animals were hungry for blood.

Was that the way things had to go? Some wild pack of beasts claiming their lives just that simply?

Well, the world was a dangerous place. And they were caught in the middle of it.

Because the Garden was inoperable, their comlink system was down, and only the emergency models were allowed to be used by the engineers. Nida and his team must've been surely worried by this time, but this second snow squall seemed more deadly than the first.

It wouldn't be long now.

Yet... now he was pissed. "Fucking... shit.." he managed. Maybe the Shumi would come out. Or maybe Cid and the others would find them.

Or maybe he was being delusional.

"God---damn--it." His voice did not sound the same, and suddenly he grew very worried. Was he ready for death? What would it be like? Was this the way to go?

"No. No, I won't let it be!"

He opened his eyes and found a shadow of something or someone above him. There were weird noises around him, too, but he couldn't make out what they were. The figure in front of him bent down to get a better look, but what should've been easily recognizable on its face was nothing but a shrouded darkness.

Squall passed out and swam in that darkness.


	23. Melodies of Life

_Hunk of twisted gray_

_A recollection approached:_

_Melodies of life_

The coldness seemed to be waning, he could tell that much. A lot of blueness was coming into view, splotches at first but they became more defined over the minutes of time. The vague landscape morphed into something both recognizable and foreign. He was in a forest, but the woods were blue and the trees almost cone-shaped and filled with liquid. It was like an underwater foliage fully functional on land. He realized he was awake once more and alive, and he plunged both hands to his face and rubbed his skin vigorously. That dragon and all those fucking unicorns! Why was life such a bitch some days? All they had to do was walk a couple miles across some weird green plains and that was it.

He let out an irritated sigh and flung his hands down. His left hand slammed down on something soft, and a woman's voice screamed out, scaring the crap out of him.

"Damn, Squall, you _must_ be awake now." It was Rinoa, and he looked over to see her curled up next to him with a bored expression on her face.

"What are you doing over here?"

"Oh, no particular reason. The good folk here have resuscitated all of us. Really charming people, I must say. The others are here, too, but.. y'know.. we really got to tell Zell to go easy next time. I have a feeling that boy is not going to have a very long life."

Squall sat up to a sitting position and looked around. The view was much more expansive and primitive than he thought. It was a forest, but it was an amalgamous mess. He had the feeling that some absent-minded painter knocked over his paint platter all over the floor, causing a kaleidoscope of colors to smear across the length. He and the girl were in part of a clearing, a stand-alone meadowy area, amongst blue hollow trees and red bushes. Purple viney flowers and orange chipmunks danced around the feet of the trees, creating a spring-like air seemingly oblivious to the wintry wonderland outside. Yet, the coldness outside hardly penetrated in here; there were numbers of yellow orbs flying around listlessly near the tops of the trees. He took a closer look and beheld them to actually be faeries.

"Faeries?" he asked, suddenly aloud.

"Hm?"

Her voice startled him for a second. He hadn't realized how deeply he been snatched. "Those things up there."

She looked and nodded. "I don't really know what they are, either, but they're the source of the warmth."

"_That_ might be the source of our dream sequences."

She cocked her eyebrow his way.

"I know, I know," he muttered, "that doesn't explain all of it, but I'm getting tired of running into all these coincidences."

She rubbed his shoulder, snickering when he fidgeted under the movement. "Don't get all froggy on me now. Can't let our master fighter get all tumbly on us."

"Master fighter," he said in a snarky tone.

"Yes, you might want to put away that Ultima spell, though. That packed quite a bit of punch."

Squall felt that was a good decision and stood up. "I'll keep that in mind." He stretched his back and was somewhat worried about the number of bones cracking with the movement. "What is this place?"

"The Choco People call it the Garden." She got up as well and mimiced his movements.

"_Choco_ People?"

Rinoa pointed behind him, and he turned around to immediately view a stout young boy with a backwards baseball cap and a bright orange shirt. "Great Eden!" he shouted.

The boy gasped. "Praise be to Eden!" He made the distinct prayer ritual and started mumbling some incantations.

Squall scratched the back of his head and waited impatiently for the kid to finish.

When the youthling did, he looked the SeeD up and down and laughed. "Geez! You bring down a dragon for goodness sakes and you can't stand a bit of cold?!?"

Squall looked behind him to Rinoa who shrugged her shoulders. "He's been saying weird stuff ever since I woke up about an hour ago."

"Yeah, man!" the boy shouted again. "What gives? A girl recuperates faster than you... tsk, tsk. Not a good sign."

"Look kid," Squall said, "where the hell am I?"

The kid made a raspberry. "Geez, so clueless. You're in the Garden, the northernmost forest of the entire world. Home of the _fabulous_ Chocobos! Everyone knows that!"

"Chocobos?" Squall asked softly.

"Hey! What's your name?"

"Why do you want to know that?"

"Why? You're a guest in the house...er..woods. 'Sides.. you seem like you know a thing or two about the dragons, so my people and I would like to know... thy name."

Squall looked around him. There were several more of the stout peoples buzzing around the woods, and there were several more beseeching his four other friends several yards down the meadow with questions and food stuffs. Away off in the distance came the sounds of squawks, and he had to take a closer look before replying. Something golden flittered through the trees, until a louder squawk was heard and a gigantic bird-like creature with elements of horse features popped out of the woods. He made a weird sound in the back of his throat... it was a Chocobo! The stuff of legends was prancing around the grass right in front of him.

"Awesome, aren't they?" the lad said, breaking his thoughts.

Squall looked back and forth between the lad and the bird-horse. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rinoa with a hand covering her mouth and her eyes wide.

"What's your name, man?" the kid said, more forcefully.

"Uh.....erm.. Squall. Squall Leonhart."

"SQ--ua--ll...eh?" the kid said in a haughty, elitest tone. "Hm. Hrmmm. Eh."

"What?"

"You don't look like a Squall, but whatever. Anyway, let's--"

"Wait a minute, kid. Since I told you my name, you tell me yours."

"Now why would _I _ do that?"

"That would make _me_ feel comfortable."

The kid did another raspberry. "Geez, you're a nut. I have a name, but only my mommy knows that. You just call me Mr. Awesome, or Mr. Cool, or Mr. Perfect. See, nobody named Squall could ever match that criteria."

Squall heard some chuckles come out of Rinoa behind him, and he couldn't stop his hands from turning into fists. "Listen, kid, I'd like to see the person that saved us from dying of cold out there, if you please. See, we're running behind schedule right now."

The kid did another raspberry.

"I'm about to call you Mr. Annoying in another goddamn secon--"

"It was me, you putz," the kid said.

"Yeah," Irvine's voice came rumbling to their ears. Squall turned to see the cowboy coming with Selphie and Quistis tailing behind. Zell was bringing the rear with a bag of liquid he kept drinking out of. Some of the Choco People were following him, snickering and pointing at him and snickering some more. They seemed to find the brawler's tattooed face really funny. "Squall, this little prick seems to have saved us out there."

"Prick, pah!" the kid scoffed. "Coming from the guy who was whining about being _soooo_ cold out here."

The kid's buddies chortled and guffawed after that comment.

Squall looked at the kid some more. "You were that shadow I saw in front of me, before I passed out?"

"Yeah, that big massive purple ball thingy you conjured up sure woke us all up. Thank you very much! Yet, the dragon also popped out, too, and we were all so fascinated we just had to take the Chocobos out for a spin and catch y'all in action! Apparantly, though, you guys suck major Choco balls whilst surviving cold weather." He looked over to one of his pals. "Heh...just like those three goons who were going to Esthar, remember that Ling-Ling?"

The Choco Boy named Ling-Ling, apparantly, snickered some more.

Squall stole a peek to his friends, who seemed to catch the reference. He didn't quite feel like exploring that stretch; he was already freaked out by the seven dozen Choco People crowding around all six of them, laughing, smiling, and attempting to look up the three girl's coats.

"Yeah, I saved y'alls asses," the lead boy said, hands on his hips in a defiant pose.

"What are you people?"

"People, pah! We're not humans. We're Choco People! Able to reproduce asexually! What race on this earth can match us with that?"

Squall blinked. Nothing came to save him from a stupefied expression.

The kid did another raspberry and was joined by a nasty, spittle-filled chorus of raspberry from the eighty-four other Chocos. "A real dandy this one is, and they call _you_ a Leader."

"Well, he is," Rinoa cried out, sporting a stern manner that looked credible enough. Squall smacked himself on the forehead.

"Darn tootin'" Selphie said. "The best one we got."

"Yeah!" Zell agreed.

The Choco People looked at each other with confused faces. Then a great chorus of "Bullshit!" rang out, followed by more chortling.

"And where would this great _Leader_ be heading you all too?" the main kid snorted.

"To Trabia Garden!" Selphie shouted.

The crowd of Chocos went silent and became more confused. "Trabia Garden?"

"Yes," Squall said. "Our ship was not designed for this continent's ice storms, and it spazzed out somewhere south of here."

"Yeah, we found it sputtered out there. Some of our people collected your backpacks things and fixed up the engines of your vessel. It should be approaching here any minute now."

"Where'd get that stuff, anyway?!" snorted a stuffy-sounding Choco.

"From the Shumi people in Nagansett," Squall answered.

A nasty string of raspberries sprayed all of them in spit. Quistis looked poised to smack off all of their heads with one swipe of her whip, but Irvine and Zell held her back.

"The Shumi!!!" the lead kid exclaimed.

"Y-Yeah," Squall said warily. Outnumbered and even though the six of them had their weapons, Squall still felt a little worried about their current situation.

"The Shumi are fucking shitholes!!" all the Choco People exclaimed.

"Well," Zell asked, "where should we have gotten our stuff from?"

The race of creatures scratched their heads and then shrugged.

"Listen," Squall inching away, "we'll just be going now. Thanks for the recoup--"

"Now wait a minute," the lead Choco said. "We don't want to save y'all's asses again."

"I thought you said the vessel was right outside this forest."

"Yeah, but which side of the forest?"

That hit hard. The six humans looked around them and their hearts sank. The forest was dense and very blue. No outside light or brevity reached them there in the meadow.

"Dumbasses," the Choco squealed. "Always thinking with your groins." His buddies giggled. "See, I'd prefer to call you all lucky. You six seem to be good fighters and good sports. You all suck at everything us, but... that's all right I guess." He waited for the giggling to stop. "That being said, we feel that you should utilize some of our Chocobos. Provided you can pass a certain test first."

Squall and his friends looked at the bird-horse. It was a beautiful golden creature with the head of a bird, the mane and body of a horse, and the cracked legs of a bird. It had feathered arms and hooved feet. Its squawk was both timid and powerful, and its hooved feet looked strong enough to cause some major damage.

"What... test?" Squall asked.

The Choco smiled wide, and his buddies struggled to hold back giggles. Squall watched in horror, as the kid pulled out a long flute from his vest. "_You_ have to catch one!" He indicated the Chocobo in the clearing and made a clicking sound with his teeth. The Chocobo squawked and fled into the woods.

Squall snapped his head back to the kid. "The fuck?"

"Go!" the kid snapped. "Go! Time's a ticking, fool!"

Squall snatched the flute. "Damn, boy, the hell do I do?"

"Geez... the flute has six holes, okay. You know how to play a flute?"

"Yeah."

"Play the right song. That thing is able to make only four, so it shouldn't be too hard, so make the right song in the right area and the Chocobo will acquiesce to your command. Make sure it's the right area, okay. There are certain 'hotspots' that you'll see clear enough in there, so make the song there. If you don't do that, one of these Choco babies might steal your flute, and you'll have to snatch it back. No using your weapon either. Got it?"

"..........The fuck?"

"That's crazy!" Zell snapped.

"We don't have time for this!" Irvine yelled.

The Choco Boy pulled out a watch. "Time's a ticking!"

Squall sighed and looked at his friends. "Wait here, will ya?" He stormed past them and entered the woods.

* * *

No faeries lit the way for this crazy adventure, but the trees in all their vast blueness seemed to part the way for him. The elusive squawks of the pesky Chocobo flittered in the distance but seemed to be coming from two different angles.

"North....", he turned around, "...west..."

All around him was a sea of blue. The canopies of the trees were the darkest, but the tree bark stretching all the way down was only slightly lighter. The underbrush and the ground blended together, and the distant darkness of the forest seemed to eclipse everything. The Chocobo effortlessly pranced somewhere within, delighting itself in Squall's torment. The SeeD barrelled through the forest cursing whatever gods there were that could devise such a foolhardy thing as this.

_Why oh why did _this_ have to happen?_

After five minutes, he stopped to catch his breath. The squawk came louder to his right, and he managed to catch a flash of gold through the blue. He brought out the flute thinking he had hit a "hotspot", although for all intents and purposes everything looked the same fucking thing!

His breath came short. The flute had indeed six holes, but the wood instrument only played one raspy little tune. As soon as he blew it, something rustled in the trees above him. He looked up, and a small golden thing plopped down right on top of him and pecked at his head. He cried out and kneeled to the ground, swatting the creature off his back. His eyes widened as the miniature bird-horse, an exact but smaller replica of the bigger creature, snatched up his flute and dove into the forest. Immediately concealed.

He kicked a blue tree. "Son of a fucking bitch!!"

The squawks of the elusive Chocobo laughed at him mercilessly.

Squall angrily pulled at his jacket, swung around, and kicked another tree. A shout was heard, and some kid tumbled out of the gutted side of the tree. A strange orange-toned boy in a bulky golden jacket with a shit-eating grin on his face. He snickered royally at Squall's perplexion.

The SeeD held his head in both hands. "Great, another Choco Boy."

"Indeed, but my cursing friend, you've been had."

"Nah, really."

"Really. The flute was a fake."

Squall shook his head. "Listen, kid, just tell me the way out of here, will ya."

The kid did a raspberry.

Enraged, Squall whirled his right foot sharply into the closest tree and made an indention halfway through the thick bark. Tons of dead branches and leaves fell all over the forest floor. The forest life residing in the canopies was silent for a good two minutes before resuming its original course.

The jacket boy looked around him, shocked at first and then more sympathetic. "Okay, you're not the type to get riled up."

Squall folded his arms across his chest.

"Alrighty then. Here's the deal. You must get that Chocobo. Never you mind about that _Chicobo_ who stole your flute. They've been known to be mischievous bastards. Now...uh... one slight catch to all this here information."

"...What?" The response was terse.

"All information and products passed on to said Chocobo-catcher grants the Chocobo-handler exactly one thousand gil."

A staring contest began, and Squall wondered why he didn't just unsheathe his gunblade and eliminate all these pesky shitwads. Then he had to remind himself that that would be a desecration in the eyes of Garden Law as well in the eyes of the World Court. So he sighed deeply and forked over the money.

The Chocobo-handler looked at the bag of gil coins and seemed to be growing more and more excited about...well... about whatever possibilities fancied a Choco Boy of these parts. After a few minutes of wrenching over an increasingly seething Squall, the lad pocketed the gil and fished out two silver whistles. One was more polished than the other.

"This here's the good old-fashioned ChocoWhis. My lads over in the clearing don't know I'm doing this, so you're the lucky one of this bunch."

"Ooh, awesome. The hell does this thing do?"

"Not thing. _Things._ The more polished one here deals strictly with the location this pesky Chocobo is hiding around, called affectionately the ChocoSonar. This more used one is the entrapment mechanism, called affectionately the ChocoZiner. Heh, I love that term...Ziner, heh."

Squall sighed.

"The ChocoSonar makes more noise when you are arriving closer to your intended target. When the volume on it reaches its maximum intensity, bring out the Ziner..heh..and blow on it. The Chocobo will come out, and it's all yours. Then, the bubbly creature will lead the way back to the clearing, and my lads will take it from there."

"And what will they do?"

The kid blew a raspberry and waved the question off.

Squall shook his head and took the two whistles. "You _sure_ these things work."

"A hundred and ten percent sure. Listen, pal, I want you and your friends out of this forest just as badly as you want to. I mean, you all can stay here if you want, but there aint shit here that you want to spend your time with, right?"

"You got that right."

"Goody. Now, remember one thing. If you don't use Sonar correctly, those Chicobos will be back to steal from you. Keep in mind, they're watching you right now." Both of them looked up to the canopies. "Be absolutely sure you have the right spot. Otherwise, you must come and find me again, and I'll charge you _ten thousand gil_ for the replacements!!"

"You know what? You can suck my cock, Choco Boy."

The kid did a raspberry. "That's my specialty."

Squall clutched his whistles and fled off into the forest, leaving the kid laughing hysterically.

* * *

The squawks had died away, and the forest had plunged into an irreconciliable silence. No doubt, he figured, the world was watching him attempt to capture a seemingly incongrous demented creation of a creature. He brought out the ChocoSonar and turned it on. Immediately, a reading was given, but the volume was too low. So, he plunged through the brush going northwest.

He didn't think the forest was that big, so he figured the Chocobo was pretty near. On a heading reading due northwest, the volume slowly ebbed lower. He stopped and turned more to the north. The heading ticked up just a tiny bit to a quarter of its strength. He narrowly missed running into a tree, and the movement around it caused the heading to swerve favorably to the east. At half strength, Squall moved more to the northeast, and the volume grew louder and louder. He plowed through some more underbrush and stumbled into a small patch of light blue bordering on turquoise-green. The Sonar was reading off the charts. He breathed a sigh of relief and shut off the infernal device.

The clearing was much more quiet. Almost death-like. He felt he was in the infamous Elysian fields the mythology classes in Balamb Garden always talked about. Nothing stirred, but he felt stares peppering his body. Eerie, of course, but he seemed to know what they were.

He brought out the Ziner, and he had to admit the name sounded kind of funny. He flicked it on, and a squawk scared the piss out of him. The Chocobo barrelled through the brush, but he was ready. He somersaulted over the charge and landed on its back. Grabbing its mane, he reared it to a halt, and the Chocobo let out a surprise squawk and became instantly tame.

"Great Eden, you confounded...." He stopped, for the bird-horse seemed to be smiling at him. Its black eyes had the mixture of kindness and tranquiltiy one found in dogs or cats. It didn't exactly purr or pant, but it made some sort of noise resembling affection.

"Ho-ho! And you thought I was pulling your leg like my pesky friends!"

Squall looked around and saw the Choco Boy come waltzing out of the opaque blue. An even bigger shit-eating grin was plastered on his face.

The Chocobo gave a mischievous squawk, and Squall asked, "Okay, what's the catch?"

"Tsk. No catch, mister. I like you're style. Much more appreciative and conservative than most people's. The Chocobo knows the way. It'll lead you back to civilization. If you ever get the chance, do stop by. Always nice to have interesting people to befriend these days. Unless you're a Sorceress, of course, heh."

"Can't blame you there."

The boy made a clicking sound with his teeth, and the Chocobo gave a rearing squawk and away Squall went. The Chocobo was erratic, it constantly made squawking noises and god-knew-what-else, and the saddleback wrecked his ass like there was no tomorrow. Yet, it was a very fast ride and breezy.

He crashed through the brush and into the clearing, startling everyone including the chortling bunch of Chocos. Their mouths immediately dropped in stupefied disbelief. Rinoa and Quistis gasped, and Selphie grew ecstatic with sheer joy. The boys wanted to burst out laughing at the sight of Squall's dazed expression atop the giant yellow beast. A couple Chicobos followed their mother out into the clearing and pranced around the bird-horse's feet. The Chocobo gave a squawk of victory and refused to let Squall down to the earth.

The lead Choco Boy slowly came forward. He had not expected this at all.

"Well," Squall said, "are we free to leave?"

"First the dragon, now this?" the lad said. His original foolish voice had pretty much been cleaved in two. "Very well, if you must go, please take along some equipment with you."

"For what purpose?"

"Your friends here told me that you're about to initiate a war in some far-off distant place."

"Eventually, yes."

"Well, then." His buddies nodded admirably as he looked at them, and they each brought out their own whistles and blew some magnificent chimes. A torrent of running feet sounded somewhere within the forest, and an army of Chocobos appeared. Five more well-rounded ones for Rinoa, Quistis, Selphie, Zell, and Irvine and at least four dozen more as backups. "I hope that's enough consolation for all the treatment I gave ya!"

Amid Selphie's ecstatic cries, Squall nodded. "That's more than I coulda bargained for."

Irvine helped the excited lass up before ascending his. Zell somersaulted onto his, and Squall helped the other two girls up and saluted the Chocos goodbye. They only looked on in admiration, as Squall clicked with his teeth and the Chocobo army followed his steed through the blue forest.

* * *

Nida dropped his cigar. "What the....?"

Headmaster Cid, Xu, and the rest of the inhabitants visible on the outside deck dropped their jaws as fifty-five Chocobos came pouring out of the blue forest. Cid himself leaned almost over the railing to get a better look. He called for the drawbridge to lower, and the golden bird army slowly made their way onboard. Everybody inside crowded towards the Parking Lot region to behold the magnificent array. The birds squawked and made funny noises. Some of the Garden cadets and Balambian citizens asked the same questions regarding to where to house them, but most of the people just decided to take in the spectacle.

Squall dismounted, spent a few minutes soothing his buttocks, and with the help of Irvine and Zell slowly guided each of the birds to its own designated spot in the Parking Lot. During the civil war and the subsequent transformation, most of the armored vehicles had been dismantled. The hope for Garden was Dollet had some spare equipment, but now the Chocobos were a great substitute.

Everybody was talking at once. Several hundred people asked over and over again if they were okay, were they hurt, what happened, and so forth and so forth. Zell heard Milena's voice, and he brushed everyone aside to reach her, and she escorted him away from the crowd.

Cid and Xu made their way through and parted the uproarious crowd. They shook hands with Squall and Quistis, while Irvine and Selphie moved quickly to get the SeeDs, cadets, and civilians back to business and preparation.

"Rin," Xu said sweetly, "the Duke needs you to relay a report to his constituents. Plus, he's worried. News of y'all's conflict reached him three hours ago."

"Will do," she said and left to go file it.

Quistis looked at Xu. "How long were we gone?"

"You all left at just before 1400 yesterday. It's 1900 today."

Squall and Quistis looked at each other, shocked.

Cid placed his hands on Squall's shoulders. "Not a problem, Squall. The light from that Ultima spell reached us in a reflection. The Choco Peoples contacted us and helped us fix our wires. That succubus energy works pretty well, too. Much condolences to the Shumi. I'm sorry for the troubles those Chocos put for you, but I didn't have any doubts on you."

Squall shrugged. "Whatever."

"Whatever indeed. The snowstorms are over, but we got mountains to trek. And Nida's growing more impatient by the hour. Shall we commence onward to Trabia?"

"Absolutely, sir."

"About damn time!" Nida called out over the intercom.

"He really shouldn't use the PA for personal calls, eh?" Cid chuckled.

* * *

The Garden soared across the mountainous terrain. The temperature was cold, but the blizzard was dead, so the trek was nothing more than a shiver. The high-intense energy was a stable suit and bound the cables tightly together with enough succor to last for a good long while-- provided of course that there were no immediate signs of warfare.

The jagged mountain range of the Acrid peaks looked rough and formidable, and the name fit appropriately right in the dead center of the continent. A foul smell befitting one of ripened cheese hit the vessel hard, and everyone within resorted to cautionary measures. Some of the less fortunate had to hit special baggies that made the surrounding smell even worse. What could be more better than the smell of vomit before dinner?

They were skirting the northern edge of the continent. Trabia was a snake-like landmass. In the western part was a land of plains containing only one city, Ithius, and the three Shumi islands. The bulk of the Mesmerize procreated there, yet Gremlins were the only other creatures to inhabit that space. To see a dragon in those parts was quite a rarity. A pittance the group had to slaughter one without retrieving any delicacies, but of course if one's life is threatened one does not think of those sorts of things. As the continent snaked ever so eastward, the terrain became more rugged as the Acrid Mountains carved out the northern edge and sank down south around the bend of the Cypress Lagoon. The lagoon was the source of the acrid odor, and it was unwise to drink the water in its direct source. Trabia Garden had a facility to purify the water so the surrounding villages could have its safe contents. Eden knew what became of the place, and they were about to find out. The Ochus thrived off the acrid liquid, and they were probably thriving off the devastation. There was nothing a carnivorous plant wouldn't do for a taste of blood. The farthest eastern part of Trabia was currently sealed off thanks to the Estharian government. Dragons guarded it, and one did not mess around with that directly.

Balamb Garden crested a sharp foothill and came across three forests bunched tightly together. Blanket of snow draped through each, evidence of the previous downfalls. Most of it was quickly turning to sludge, but some patches still glistened like frosting on a cake. Rinoa and Zell had rejoined the group, and Selphie and Irvine were outside bundled up on the deck. All of their faces fell at the sight of the first few villages awaiting them.

Nothing but smokestacks.

Some two hundred thousand people lived around Trabia Garden in a cluster of fifty villages. It seemed every one of them was either completely destroyed or barely functioning. There weren't many people left occupying them. Balamb Garden's underbelly blades gently glided over demolished houses and properties reduced to mere ashes of their former selves. Selphie on the deck wanted to shed tears, but they refused to materialize. Yet, that is. The hard part awaited her.

Roughly a dozen missiles had struck the ground, while another dozen or so had ripped apart the mountains and forests. Blackened earth had been partially patched over with the snowfall, but it was a nasty sight. Dried blood and charred bodies could be seen scattered in various dips in the mountainous landscape, and the passengers in the cockpit had to avert their eyes in some cases. There was a lot of devastation and a lot of displaced and very unhappy villagers. Rinoa had reported that Duke Haydyn had estimated some twenty thousand people had been killed in the strikes and over a hundred and fifty thousand had migrated out to Deling and Galbadia. Esthar, of course, had refused to cooperate.

Balamb Garden passed the forests and came across a strange pathway lined with twisted metal. Squall could see through the window Selphie leaning farther with a curious expression, and he knew they were coming up to it. He signalled Nida to move in closer, and the pilot veered that way. The Garden etched in just right and came across the main event.

Trabia Garden was a hunk of strewn metal. It was the smallest of the Gardens, but being only half the size of Balamb it was still decent enough to navigate through. A direct hit by one missile had destroyed the Garden Master's office and plunged its gray tower straight into the heart of the campus. A massive schism resembling earthquake damage split the campus in two and uprooted one side. Trabia once had a golden halo, the same as Balamb's, resting up top encircling the GM's office; the missile strike had splintered it into millions of pieces, and parts of it could be seen impaled into human bodies littered over the snowy banks. The layout of the Garden was the same format as Balamb's, so Squall and the others had no trouble picking out the designations. The dorm rooms had been completely gutted and burned. The Parking Lot had been uprooted. The Cafeteria was nowhere to be found. The Library was perhaps the only thing intact, but most of the books were probably missing. There were two Quad-like areas, considering Trabia wasn't big on Training Centers, and both of them were littered with shards of the halo. The Infirmary looked completely alien.

Not a person stirred within the mess, and everybody in the cockpit could see Selphie looking absolutely exasperated. Irvine was standing next to her, looking lost but compelled to do something. She already had a coat on, so he couldn't give her his. Squall looked at the two of them and wondered what to do next.

"Set her down here," he told Nida.

The SeeD complied, and Cid turned to Squall. "You want the recruits to go in as well?"

"No, leave them here. Have Xu and Nida train them, while the usual six of us walk in. Hopefully... the Garden Master is still alive."

"Yeah, I hope so, too."

Quistis and Zell followed Rinoa out the door. Xu and Nida gave a solemn nod to Squall, and the gunblader sighed heavily and exited the cockpit.

* * *

"Shit," Zell cursed. All six of them stood in front of the massive stone gate. The familiar entrance Selphie knew so well had been caved in from the direct hit, and a massive stone pillar from the gray tower had smashed down on the control box. They would have to climb over the boulders to gain entry.

"This looks pretty bad," Rinoa said.

"Gad, this pisses me off! Those fucking--"

"We know, Zell, we know," Irvine said coming up behind him and patting him on the shoulder.

Selphie saw an opening between two caved-in pillars and ran up to take a quick view. She made a whimper that was disheartening to hear. "It-It's so bad."

The others shuffled their feet, lost for words.

She smacked the pillar. "I'm going in!!" Defiant to the very end, she hauled herself up the wreckage and stopped at the very top. They were amazed at her speed, but disheartened at her open gape. She stayed still for a very long time, before finally erupting into tears. Squall and Irvine followed , the cowboy first, up the boulders. Zell brought up the rear after the two girls, and all six of them remained still at the very top and overlooked the carnage.

They had seen it from the Garden, but now it was up close. It was worse up close.

Trabia Garden used to have grass, everywhere. Rocks and slabs of stone, punctured and cracked, splattered all that stood before. Dried blood, dust, and grease painted the campus commons. All of the buildings, crystalline in their original scope, were destroyed and tarnished beyond all recognition. If they hadn't been Balamb conneissours, they would have had no idea what these buildings were. T-Garden had approximately four thousand bodies, and virually all of them had stones to mark them. The Garden was too small to house all of them in a designated spot, so peppered around the campus were the infamous gray heads. There were some people milling about, and Selphie took note and immediately raced towards the bottom. The main walkway she knew so well was torn and ruptured, but she navigated it like a star athlete and surprised the half-dozen visible around a devastated fountain with a gargoyle guarding it. The people were struck blind, instantly recognizing their former colleague. Their shouts of joy could be heard from the group's vantage point.

Irvine stood up. "Come on, guys, let's go." He jumped down first, followed by Zell. The other three took a longer look at the devastation and reluctantly followed.

The six or so people had flooded her with questions by the time they had reached her, and Squall and the others could tell Selphie looked much better and much worser. Most of her friends had perished in the strike, including a boy she had liked a lot before her move. One of her girlfriends had survived, though, and they immediately delved into what she was doing at Balamb. Irvine somehow worked his way into the conversation; Squall, Zell, Rinoa, and Quistis stood marvelled at the cowboy's easiness and the girl's apparant interest in his support. The conversation was so engaging that the four of them disentangled themselves from the threesome and went to slowly explore the ruined Garden.

The Garden Master was dead. Snippets of disgruntled cadets revealed that information clearly. They barely acknowledged the four of them, as they passed. All of the buildings were seriously damaged, except the Library and one of the Quads. Nothing was going on in the Library, having been virtually gutted of books, so they went to the Quad. About a hundred cadets lay sick or bloodied on cots within, and the smell of death was overpowering. Sickness prevailed, and whatever primitive medical equipment remained was hooked up to the least ailing. The cadets suffering the most were being reluctantly allowed to escape into death. That was the vast majority. They were so badly off that Balamb Garden didn't even have the medical equipment necessary to save them. The nearest suitable aid was roughly a thousand miles away in Deling City.

The Quad had a theatre setting much like Balamb's did, but this one was more expansive. Or it was. The four descended a collapsed staircase and beheld the large stage with three thick shards of the halo embedded in its frame. Some decaying bodies littered nooks and crannies around here; the cleanup effort had apparantly halted for much of the process. One lone man lay curled up in a fetal position whispering unintelligible phrases. He wore a blanket over his ragged clothing and seemed to just be waiting to die. The four of them stared only briefly and walked back out of the scene.

A group of young cadets, probably only in their first or second year, were stony-faced sitting in a small corner next to a makeshift doctor's bunker hooked up to IV fluids and eating morsels of tuna from bloated cans. Several older cadets were busy shifting around the remnants of the Cafeteria next door trying to find more sources of food. It seemed no one was interested in leaving the ghost town of Trabia.

A sight caught their eyes in the distance, and they slowly walked over to it. The sea of gray dots loomed horrendously closer with each footstep. So many precious moments lost. Squall, Zell, Quistis, and Rinoa stood silent and looked at every single one. A grain of hope lost in the sand of time.

Away in the back, they saw Selphie's dress and Irvine's duster. They didn't think Irvine was milking the situation. They knew when he was. Ever since they had left the Choco forest, he had grown more sadder with each passing moment. More....mature. A basketball court lay in the very back of the campus in between the Cafeteria and the dilapidated Dorms.

The tombstone read the name of her dead friend: Thomas Macklin. She had known him for three years; he was the one who had shown her her first GF. Although she never used one extensively until her time at Balamb, this Siren gem had been her first encounter. And Macklin had been her first crush.

Irvine didn't feel entirely too weird about it. He wasn't entirely sure if there was enough chemistry between them or not, but this was a special moment anyway. Even with the jacket on, he saw that she was cold so he put an arm around her. She leaned into him.

"I did it...." she said in low whisper.

"Did what?" he asked.

"I performed for them. I know the stage was destroyed at first... but...but we perservered and rebuilt it. Made it....into a whole new stage. The same dream...only better. My dream band."

He only smiled and held her closer.

"I did it everyone," she said looking at not only Macklin's but the stones surrounding his. "You remember how we promised. That... we'd do something memorable... for ourselves.... for everyone. I did it.. for you."

She brushed away some more tears. "You all saw me, right? You all heard the music?" She studied them all long and thoughtfully. "I...I..I'll keep playing for as long as it takes for you to hear."

"They'll never forget you, Selphie."

"I hope not."

"You can count on it. Our perfomance, your performance was spot-on!"

She smiled and looked at him. "You really think so?"

"I knew you to be more than beauty, Sefie. I knew you to be more."

"....H-How?"

Irvine looked past her. "There is much to tell. They must hear, too."

"Is it good?"

"Of course. A shocker, maybe, but definitely something that's very good."

She smiled again. "Good." Looking back at the stones, she kissed the dirt and stood up. "They... probably went to the court. Y'know, I hope that we... not just we, but everyone...I hope that... that this never happens again."

He stood up slowly and nodded his head. "Me too, Sefie. Me too."

* * *

"We should leave as soon as they come back," Squall said. "There's nothing for us here."

"Quite right," Quistis said sadly. "Gosh, this place is just devastated. Everything is in shambles. And... everybody is in total shambles as well."

Zell sat on the ground and played with his shoe. He was muttering something, but it wasn't comprehensible.

"We should do something to help these people," Rinoa said.

"Like what?" Quistis questioned. "Our medical equipment wouldn't stand a chance getting over those boulders, and it's not advanced enough to cure all these nasty wounds."

Rinoa pouted. "Yeah, but--"

"--No buts! I want to help them, too, but I've seen how this story ends."

"All stories can't have the same ending."

Quistis shrugged her shoulders at that, and the four of them went into uneasy silence. The temperature was just above freezing, and light snow threatened to fall. A trash can with some flammable materials lay tipped over near the center of the court. Zell stood up and righted it, checking the contents inside. He zapped some of Ifrit's essence down the can, and a small fire quickly grew and they all huddled around it. Clouds above covered the moonlight that would've been there, and the fire did wonders to smack back against the cold.

"Who's ready... for the war?" Rinoa asked, slowly heating both sides of her hands.

The other three didn't respond right away. Zell cleared his throat. "Maybe it won't be that intense." He could feel their harsh glares on him. "Hey, now, I'm just saying."

"Yup," Quistis muttered.

"As long as the Galbadians lose, that's all I'm concerned about."

Rinoa sighed, and the three of them looked at her. "I don't like this at all. Not at all."

They looked at her and couldn't understand why she would say that. A sound of a basketball smacking the court snatched their gaze to the entrance. The perky SeeD's eyes were red and stained with the remnants of tears, but a smile was visible on her face. The cowboy trailed behind, scooping up the ball and dunking it into the lone-standing hoop. "Sorry to keep you all waiting," Selphie said.

"Hey!" Zell responded. "No need to worry, Selphie, we understand greatly."

Irvine laughed and smiled. "It takes her a long time to cheer up, even when all we do is keep on saying it." He made another dunk and went for a three-pointer.

Selphie caught the smell and glare of fire, and she went immediately to it. "Well, yeah, probably. Thanks everyone. Thanks for coming out all the way here. We, uh, kinda had a rough patch back there a bit, but I'm glad we were able to come see this place. It is still beautiful and striking, despite the state of it."

Zell caught a rebound and started dribbling to burn up some energy. Quistis gave Selphie a warm hug. "Cheer up, Selphie. We'd never let you down."

"Thank you, Quisty." She returned the hug and then looked at Squall. "Take me with you when you go to fight the Sorceress, okay?"

Squall caught a rebound and chucked it over to Irvine. "Why would I not take you?"

"I know that, but I don't want to be out of the playing field when the time does come. I wanna get even with her... I.. I want my revenge!" She scanned the ruined Garden with her hands. "_She_ ordered all this. _She_ ordered the strikes on Balamb. _She_ is terrorizing millions of people across this earth. I can't bear to live with that knowledge ever more days."

Rinoa made a little sound, and everyone looked at her. "Do..." She swallowed a bit. It seemed to be more difficult than she thought. "Do we have to fight? I-I mean... isn't there another way?" She saw not just Selphie's expression but the other's awestruck expression. She briefly met Irvine's and noticed that he didn't seem to be too puzzled. "To.. to avoid anymore bloodshed. Isn't there another way?"

"Yo!" Zell asked, inadvertently kicking the ball over to Irvine. "What's this all of a sudden?"

"Maybe someone could-- someone really smart could--maybe think of a way where no one would want to fight again. No one would have to spill someone's blood to just--just to prove a point."

Squall closed his eyes and seemed to back away from the fire can. _What are you getting at? You've been fighting this whole time! If someone could think of something so... so... pacifist-like...that would be great._ He opened his eyes again and looked up at the clouds and pictured a scenario like that. Fisherman's Horizon suddenly came into view, would that be the type of thing she was thinking about? _Yeah... right._ He scoffed inside his head. _No one's doing anything like that. No one's planning. No one wants to plan. Planning's too hard. It takes courage, strength. An audacity of hope. Everyone's all scared and uneasy. They complain too much. They pretend too much._ He returned his gaze back to ground-level, but his sight seemed to be focused elsewhere, to a point far off into the distance. It could be possible that he was looking out to Fisherman's Horizon, the last bastion of hope humanity had to offer. _Why all of this all of a sudden? What criticism should anybody expect on the thoughts of war?_

"Squall?"

He blinked. He seemed to be gazing at her, he just didn't know it.

"You have to voice your thoughts, or else I won't understand."

_Well, blow me down._ "Rinoa, why this all of a sudden? You were part of a resistance movement, right? Back in Timber?" He noticed her fidget. "When others were all talk, you took up arms and fought yourself. I saw that first-hand between the actions of Watts, Zone, and yourself. What happened to you?"

She remembered. Sighing, she scratched the back of her left leg with her right shoe. "I guess... I'm getting scared. Sometimes. Sometimes, when I'm with you all...I feel like we're on the same wavelength. The same path. We talk a lot. We laugh a lot. We're there for each other and with each other... every step of the way.

"But... when the battles start... when-whenever we get caught in the middle of something fierce... it's different. Everyone's tempo speeds up. Everyone feels that rush of... well.. I call it insanity, but it is your SeeD training.. everyone feels that spark flow through them. That always leaves me in a loop. I wonder..._Am I left behind? How far did everyone go? I can't hear them anymore._ I try to catch up, but it's no use sometimes, and when I do, I have to wonder some more. _Is everyone safe? Will they welcome me with open arms? Will there be another battle to tear us apart again?_"

She saw Zell and Quistis fidgeting. Selphie and Irvine looked deeply concerned. Squall seemed confused. "I just..." she began, choking up, "I just don't know."

"I know, Rinoa," Irvine said, stepping forward into the middle of the circle they had all made. "I know exactly what it is. When the pace picks up, someone might not be there. Someone you love could be dead. Disappear before your very eyes."

She couldn't answer, but her eyes told him everything he needed to know. He heard the others mumble in response. "It's tough sometime," he began again, "when you live your life like that. It's not easy. However, that very same reason is why I fight. It's what made me aspire to become the best sharpshooter at Galbadia Garden." He sat down on the ground next to the fire can, and they all followed suit. "When..." He took in a deep breath and exhaled very slowly. The others around him grew a little concerned. "When I was a young boy... about four or so... I remember growing up in an orphanage. A quaint and tidy stone building on a peninsula with a wonderful view of the sea. Hm, I remember going down there some nights to get a glimpse of a full moon cresting above the waterline. It was real peaceful."

He leaned back and recalled exactly the time and place of each of those memories. Memories of life. "I don't know if I was born there or not, but I remember that I was around four years old when I first recalled the beginnings of my life. I stayed there after that until I was eight or so. A White Ship had come and picked me up and others, too. There were dozens of us there. The sailors on the White Ship had come to save us from an impending attack that was to be coordinated by the Estharians-- their last known public appearance before they closed up their gates for good.

"There, like I said, were dozens of us there. None of us remembered who our parents were. None of us seemed to care too much either. Well... maybe I'm not paying service to that notion.. but I sure didn't. I still don't know who my real parents were, but that's alright. I'll find out someday, either in this life or the next. My guess as to why there were so many of us was that the Sorceress War had ended, and all our grups had been killed off. I guess ya can't blame that, y'know.

"Well, heh, that's where I was for the first decade or so of my life. Lots of kids to interact with, too. However, there was one kid who was very special to me." He remembered then: _Hey, Irvy, you wanna pway?_ He looked at Selphie, and they all did. He was glad something had shone in her eyes. "Out of all the kids there, I really liked this girl. So full of energy. So full of spirit. Everytime I talked with her, she made feel so happy."

She gave a little squeal and covered her mouth with both hands. "A _stone_ orphanage?"

"That's right."

"By... a lighthouse. Was there a lighthouse next door?"

"There was. A big, tall lighthouse built some five hundred years ago. Very pretty to look at at night."

"Oh my god," Quistis breathed. Her eyes were really wide. "An old house made of stone, next to a lighthouse, with a large garden by the oceanside?"

Irvine laughed. "You guessed it!"

"Quisty!" Selphie shouted.

"Sefie!"

They hugged each other. Thoughts and memories of the garden and the nights on the beach filled both their heads. In that moment of embrace, they both felt each other's early life encircle them, wrap them together in the corridors of the distant past. A past they had forgotten all about.

"I knew right away on that very day we met again. Before Deling City." Irvine regarded their happy, teary eyes with an expression filled with childhood love and admiration. "When I stood up from the grass and saw you two, the first thing I thought of was seeing you two planting seeds in that garden long ago."

"Heeeyy!" Selphie cried. "Why didn't you tell us?!?"

"Yeah! Why didn't you tell us?!?" Quistis said.

Irvine smacked himself in the forehead. "Because it looked like you two had forgotten!! It was so unbelievable that I was caught in a daze at first. I stood there on the tarmac, and I thought,_ Man, I'm two feet away from childhood friends I'd never thought I'd see again and they don't even know!_ Heh, no one on that tarmac seemed to remember."

His friends made confused expressions.

Irvine smiled and shook his head. _How could they have forgotten?_ He knew the answer to that, but he bet they didn't. "Spunky little Sefie," he teased slyly to which she winked back. "Bossy little Quisty," he teased slyly to which she chuckled long and proudly.

"This is just sooo weird," Selphie cooed, her eyes as big as a kid's in a candy store.

"Hrm," Zell grunted. The others looked at him, and he stood up. He had such an inquisitive expression on his face, and he paced around deliberately for several minutes. Something was bothering him.

"What's wrong, Zelly?" Quistis asked.

His peculiar expression turned to one of enlightenment, and he stopped in mid-stride, striking a very funny pose. "Do.... Do you all remember setting off... fireworks?"

Irvine chuckled and stood up. "Fireworks on the beach at three in the morning?"

Zell made a little noise and smacked both his fists together. "Yeah, man! Shit, at night by the lighthouse!"

"Zell!! You were there, too?!?" Quistis said.

"Oh my god," Selphie cooed.

"Of course he was there," Irvine laughed, "we all needed someone who would _try_ to tell on us but then always come and join the fun!"

"Oh man," Zell said, turning red and covering up his face.

Selphie and Quistis giggled, and Irvine put an arm around the brawler's shoulders. "You three... picture the scenery. Picture that small beach with the lighthouse at the very tip of the peninsula--"

"--and the ferns near the water's edge!" Zell exclaimed, seeing it pop right in front of his eyes.

"The sand was a golden brown and soft as silk," Quistis said, remembering tumbling and cartwheeling across it.

"Starfish, sea turtles, those poor sea gulls that got stranded in fishing lines," Selphie breathed. She had to control herself from not coming up short. "Oh my god, it's like right in front of me."

"Those fireworks!" Quistis gasped. "I remember when we set them off! I was seven at the time. It was like right after something was buzzing around the older kids. An independence day or something on a faraway country. We snuck down there in the middle of the night and set them off." She looked at Zell and giggled. "You did try to tell on us that night!"

"D'oh. I was only trying not to get on somebody's bad side."

Irvine laughed, causing the brawler to look at him. "You remember whose bad side you always got on?"

"....Yours?"

"No, no, no. He had a thing for crosses."

Zell blinked, and Quistis and Selphie looked confused. Squall figured it out, and he also figured something else out, too. Irvine continued, "He went out several times without permission and always brought cross t-shirts and stuff like that. He called you a _Crybaby_ and a ... well, I don't know what the hell this is... a _Chickenwuss_."

Zell gasped, and the girls gasped as well. "No fucking way!!"

"Oh my goodness," Quistis said, covering her mouth. "I.... I don't know what to say."

Squall looked at Rinoa, who seemed to be getting more and more lost and trying to hold an expression of complete understanding.

"Seifer," Zell said slowly. "My... archenemy. _He _was there, too?"

"Except Rinoa," Irvine said, "we _all_ were there."

Everyone stopped what they were doing, made a little noise in their throat, and looked at Squall. The gunblader knew. He closed his eyes, sighed, and stood up. He went to lean against the basketball hoop. "I was there, too."

Quistis and Selphie gasped again. Zell kept his mouth, and a fly threatened to fall in. Irvine just relaxed cooly on the side. Rinoa looked at him with much more appreciation.

"I remember all that," Squall began. "A big stony house. The golden sand. The lighthouse that stood for ages. All the kids. I remembered Seifer. He's still the same as he is now. I remember you, Zell. Always laughing, crying, screaming, making all kinds of weird noises."

"Aw shucks, Squall."

"I remember you Quistis. Always trying to be the one who set us all straight, except when fireworks of course. Selphie, energy was too nice a word for you. Irvine, I don't quite remember you, though. You must've kept some distance."

"I was too carried away with other things."

The gunblader's face became more grave, and his friends saw the change. "I didn't like the situation I was in. Ellone was there but for a short time of my life in that orphanage. The White Ship had come, and she went aboard it, and I never saw her again. At the time, and maybe even now, I thought she left because of me. I called her 'Sis', although I think I was the only one. I waited incessantly for her to come back. She never did."

He grunted. "Always during my time training for SeeD, and even now to this day I recall that image of myself at age six or seven standing out in the rain on the porch of the orphanage looking all depressed and afraid and calling out for her. Calling out for her to come back. It's kind of embarrassing, but that's how I was back then."

_It's not embarrassing,_ Rinoa thought to herself. She wanted to say that, but she wasn't sure.

"Ellone, Quistis, Zell, Selphie, Irvine, Seifer, and myself. We and several dozen others inhabited that orphanage for a good part of our early lives. Irvine's right: I don't remember who my real parents are, and I haven't even bothered to find out. It's probably for the best anyway. They were most likely victims of the Sorceress War."

They all nodded.

"I'm not sure what all this means, but there is definitely a concrete bond between each of us. Rinoa adds a different element to the mix, but she has just become equally important to the entire group."

He heard her gasp, and he himself had to take into account that sudden acknowledgement. He cursed himself for spewing too much, however..._It felt kinda good to say that._

"Could Ellone's capability of throwing us back into Laguna's timeframe be another connection to our bond?" Selphie asked.

"She said she wanted to change the past," Squall replied. "I don't know if that's an answer to your question or not, but she seemed adamant to completing it."

"Maybe she's not happy with the present," Selphie said.

"Well hell," Zell said, "if that's the case, I'm definitely up for helping her out! She's part of our orphanage gang!"

"You didn't even know who she was before all this!" Selphie laughed.

"Hey, Sefie," Irvine laughed, "that goes for you, too."

"It's pretty scary that we've forgotten these things," Quistis sighed. "I wonder what else we've lost."

"It's like we've got Alzheimer's too soon," Zell chirped.

"Well, Irvine," Squall said, getting off the pole and stretching his back, "you sure have a good memory. This is a rather strange event. I had forgotten about all this, but coming together now I remember leaving the orphanage and what had transpired."

"What happened?" Selphie asked.

"Nothing good at all. There was a suicidal strike upon the place. Most of the kids had evacuated, and I believe you all had left before. I had stayed behind, because I didn't what to do at the time. The sounds of gunfire and bombing sounded and scared me half to death. I had hid in the garden and witnessed my first bits of bloodshed and violence. I remember now clearly the bodies of villagers being torn apart piece by piece. The cries of the women and children. The destruction of the lighthouse. The rending of the beaches. Then it was all over. Somebody helped me into a boat, and I was drifting along the water. It was all surreal. I met Leviathan on his sacred island, and somehow I survived to be rescued by Balambian officers who eventually took me to Garden.

"It was all a strange time. A very spellbound period. I had grown up with you four and had great times. Yet, when the disaster upon the orphanage wrecked it to mere remnants, I forgot each of you in turn. It seemed that with your sudden disappearance and the terrible strength of a powerful army tore at my weak defenses and killed me figuratively. I lost all sense of who you were Zell, and who you were Quistis. When Selphie came to our Garden eight years later, I hadn't the faintest clue who she was, the same with Irvine.

"Yet....I'm sure you all felt this way...when I saw and interacted with all four of you... there was something there. Something... bonding. Hm.. shit.. I'm not good with words..."

"Oh no," Irvine said, "that's the same thing I felt. Except the difference was I knew more."

"But why?"

"Yeah," Zell said, "how come you knew about all this?"

"There's one little explanation. We all grew up as kids and then left and grew into the world. Grew into our own plans of excitement and adventure. Yet, the price you all paid using the GF may have caused your memory loss."

"Aw, that's what some brain-dead scientist said in Galbadia," Zell snorted.

"Really?"

"Well.... y-yeah."

"The GF provides the carrier its power. A great power, indeed, but still. The GF makes its own place within a segment of your brain that controls your memory and retention skills."

"The GF is able to do that?" Quistis asked. "Act as a ... almost as a _parasite_?"

"Not in the sense of harming you, but yeah in the sense of taking away some of the most precious moments of your life."

"That's just a rumor!"

"Yeah, I hardly used a GF at all until I came to Balamb!" Selphie yelled.

"_Hardly?_" Irvine asked.

Selphie opened her mouth to speak, but then she shut it and looked worried.

"If we keep relying on the Guardian Forces to aid us in battle or help junction our training skills," Zell asked, "does that mean we won't remember anything at all?"

"There's no way Headmaster Cid would allow for such a thing to be utilized!" Quistis said. "Could it be a possibility that he doesn't know about that."

"I don't have an answer for that," Irvine said, "but if he did he must surely have an explanation for it. Now see here, I remember all of the past and you all do not."

"Yeah, why?" Zell asked.

"I never used a GF before until I met you five at Galbadia Garden."

They all stood silent looking at him. "Never?" Quistis asked.

"Not once. Galbadian SeeDs never used magic. We rely on brute strength, which I'm afraid might do some serious damage when the war eventually starts. Regardless, no I never once used on except the three times I've been with you all."

Selphie sighed, and everyone turned to her. "I... have a confession to make."

"You used a GF here at Trabia," Irvine said.

"No, I drew one from an enemy I had killed up near the Cypress Lagoon. It was a terrible creature that was to represent the Garden's ultimate feat to beat in the outdoor training test for SeeD. I junctioned that GF to my spirit and vitality, and I became more stronger and tougher because of it. I realized that most of the creatures around the Lagoon seemed to be more wary of me, too, which really gave me a sense of pride and fulfillment. However, it's been so long ago, and I lost the gem. I can't remember the name of the GF!!"

"Point well-taken," Irvine said.

"The GF did that?" Quistis said. "What should we do about ours? What if that happens to all of us?"

"What do we do?" Squall asked. "Nothing."

They all looked at him.

"Nothing?" Quistis asked.

"Nothing. What the hell do you all want to do now? Stop using GFs to aid in battle? As long as we continue to fight, we are indebted to the powers and sway of the Guardian Forces. They are looking down on us right now and giving us all of their very essence to make or break the day. If there's a price I have to pay for that, then I'll gladly pay it."

Irvine scratched his chin, and the others slowly nodded their heads.

"Do you think Seifer's the same way?" Zell asked.

"No, I don't," Squall said.

"Why not?"

"When he was torturing me, he said the same thing Irvine said. He never used a GF to fight. He was able to skirt the preliminaries of obtaining a GF at the Fire Cavern for the SeeD exam. He never passed it because of that, but he never seemed to mind."

"Then, that means he probably remembers this orphanage!" Selphie exclaimed.

"Great," Zell said tersely, "he remembers picking on me at the age of six."

"Well, now you do, too, so you can rub it in his face when you see him next."

"There's a good chance he probably knows more than all of us combined," Squall said, "he's always good on details."

"Well," Zell said, "we are together again. There's no way of going back and changing the past, and I don't care about that. What's more important now is fighting to preserve our friendship here in the present, so there will be more moments for us in the future. Protection for the ones we love the most now and always."

"Yeah," Quistis and Selphie said together.

"Good," Irvine said, a twinkle in his eye. "Then tell me. Do you remember.... Matron?"

Squall, Zell, Quistis, and Selphie said nothing, but their eyes told him all he wanted to know. All five of them saw her immediately. They saw who she was.

"All black," Zell said.

"Flowing thick hair," Quistis said.

"Sweet lyrical voice," Selphie said.

"Deep green eyes," Squall said.

"Exactly," Irvine confirmed.

"I really admired her," Quistis reflected. "She was the kindest woman in the world. Along with Ellone, she watched over us like the mother we never had."

"Hey...." Zell whispered to Irvine's delight, "I see a resemblance. Matron... and... They look alike."

"Resemblance?" Irvine laughed. "Nonsense. They are the same person." He took a deep breath. "Matron is Edea Kramer."

Even Rinoa widened her eyes.

_Fithos....Lusec...Wecos....Vinosec_

The melodic chants seemed to rumble up beneath them and through them and pierce their bodies like thousands of tiny pinpricks.

"Matron.....is Sorceress Edea..." Selphie whispered.

"Why is....why is....?" Quistis tried to say.

"Why?" Irvine asked, bewildered. "Why? You're wondering why Matron would take over a country or fire missiles or what have you? Why would she do that? At this point we wouldn't be able to comprehend it if we had a lifetime to figure it out."

Squall slowly nodded his head. He remembered Edea now. He remembered her destroying the Estharian troops like measely flies with barely a wave of her hand. He remembered her gentle words: _You can never be truly alone in this world. You just have to believe that you can make things happen._ She had escorted him down to the beach and shoved him off into the sea. Her eyes had been bright green then, and he had been helplessly captivated by her spell. What he could give to see the good Edea back again.

Alas... it was too late. It could never be done.

"Hear me out..." Irvine said, clearing his throat. "SeeD and Garden were all Matron's ideas right? Balamb, Trabia, and Galbadia. We, all five of us, share the same bond. Rinoa's not a SeeD, but her closeness with the justice of resistance forces closely mirrors the goals set out by SeeD to defeat the occupation forces of Sorceresses and corrupt government officials.

"So, like, what I want to say is this. I understand Rinoa's qualms. I understand, but I'm still gonna fight. I want to stay true to everything I've ever stood for. I'm sure you five know the same thing. That is why I want all of us to know that we would have to face Matron in the end. You all have heard the phrase, oft quoted among religious people, that life has endless, infinite possibilities. I don't believe that shit. My life only had very limited choices, sometimes there was only one clear choice that was available. From those limited possibilities, the choices I picked led me to this spot. This spot I'm standing on right now! There's not a fucking thing I can do about it....and that's why I value my life as it is. I value the choices I made, and I wouldn't do _anything_ differently. I want to hold true to the path that had to be taken.

"I know Matron is our opponent. Our.... (sigh)...enemy. We all love her very much. We might lose something very important on account of the GF, but I don't mind. I didn't drift here on the tides of fate. I am here because I chose to be here! So, did all of you. More important than anything else... we all grew up together. We all have the common bond. Due to different circumstances, we were separated. Yet, due to other different circumstances, we were reunited.

"As a kid, I couldn't go out on my own to save my life. My paths were so primitive and linear that for the longest time all I could really do on my own was to cry and beg for more chances which I knew would never come my way. Well, I'm not a little kid anymore. Now, I am an adult. Able to make the best possible choice in the best possible world. For us, for all of us, we are together once more. Just like old times. We are now strong enough to take care of ourselves. Make our own decisions... like.. this monumental one we now face in our lives.

"Do we fight Matron.... or not?"

The statement hung in the air with much brevity, and everyone breathed it in.

"I say," he finished, "we fight. Shoot for a common goal. The best part? It'll keep us together for a little while longer."

Everybody laughed heartilly.

"Yeah!" Zell shouted. "Let's do it. We can't run from her the rest of our lives." He smacked his fists together again. "Let's do it!!"

"It's just such a bummer," Selphie said. "We... have to fight Matron."

Quistis came to her and hugged her. "I know. Zell's right, though. We can't run from her forever. Either she slaughters everybody in her wake just to get to us, or we dive headfirst in and meet her before she even suspects it."

Selphie held on to her arms. "....Yeah," she sniffed, a smile slowly forming on her face. "The good decisions are always the hardest to address."

"Rinoa," Squall said softly, meeting her green eyes directly. "It's up to you. We're gonna fight. It's the only way we can move on with our lives. If that makes any sense at all, please... join us. I'm sure that's what everyone wants."

"Hell yeah!" Zell shouted.

Irvine, Selphie, and Quistis each seconded that.

Rinoa only smiled and nodded her head. Something caught her attention above, and she looked up. Loads of flickering lights breezed through the sky, dotting the underbellies of the clouds. Tiny remnants of their essence floated down on top of them, creating a sparkle effect on the snowy edges of the basketball court.

"Oh!" Selphie squealed. "A gift from the faeries!!"

They all basked in the glorious sprinkling of the dew. The faeries twinkled once and buzzed away, blanketing the earth once more with their magical touch.

"Hey," Zell said softly, "let's go check out Edea's orphanage right quick before things start to heat up."

"Does anyone remember where it is?" Quistis asked.

"We can always check the database," Squall noted.

Everyone nodded and mumbled in approval. "I wonder what it's like now," Selphie mused.

"It might hold a clue," Irvine said, "let's go check it out. There's still time, don't you think, Squall?"

"Of course."

"Then let's go check it out!" Zell said.

"Right," Squall affirmed. "Despite what clues we find, nothing will change the past. Nor the current situation. However, I wanna see it, too. Let's go check it out."

Zell and Selphie left immediately, followed closely by Irvine. Quistis basked a little bit more underneath the faerie dust and then followed them out. Rinoa stayed still for a moment.

Squall stared at her for a few moments. She seemed so beautiful in the darkness of the cloudy night. The fire in the can cast the glow of embers against her skin, and he was caught in a very different feeling towards her. Remembering their first meetings, he hardly resembled that bitter SeeD persona he had put on her. Yet, now was not the time for such matters. Still, he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

She was aware of him staring at her, and she let him have more of a view. There was something about him so captivating and inspiring. An image of an ideal man in an imperfect package that made the whole thing seem more special than ever. Of course, she too didn't know how to expand it judging from his attitude and perception of things. Yet, she was willing to try. And it seemed to be working to cool his defenses.

He looked at the ground and moved in closer, so she could hear him. "I... erm... I... I guess that's it. We're fighting."

He had a sheepish expression on his face, and she just loved it. "You guys are fearless."

_Fearless? Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps if you think too hard, you become lost. I think that's what everyone is afraid of._

He looked at her seriously, and she listened intently. "Rinoa. I wish we didn't have to fight either."

She smiled and nodded her head. They walked together out of the court and caught up to their friends at the entrance to the dilapidated Trabia Garden.

* * *

Headmaster Cid was not in the cockpit, but Nida and Xu were. While Selphie and Irvine went to check up on their recruits, Zell went to go see Mila, and Rinoa went to the second floor to coordinate memos with the Dollet Dukedom and Fisherman's Horizon. Quistis walked next to Squall in the cockpit and watched him muse over the LCD screen.

"I remember red mountain peaks quite clearly on my trip out of the orphanage when it got bombed, so it must be around Centra."

"Was it bombed all the way?"

"Oh, I don't know. I remember some parts of it being decimated, but I don't know if all of it is gone. That was about nine years ago now."

"You say Centra, Squall?" Nida asked, aiming the controls on the dashboard more onto the central pictography of the southern continent.

"Yeah, I'm only gonna take a first stab at it."

"A peninsula, right?" Quistis asked.

"Yeah."

"There's hundreds of peninsulas on that continent!" Xu noted.

The southern continent was revealed, and indeed hundreds if not thousands of peninsulas and fjords draped off the purplish-reddish terrain. There were mountains galore, jagged peaks, and formiddable plains abound. Small patches of forest dotted several areas of the landmass, and several village clusters were dotted along the outside edges.

Several clusters formed along the western portion of Centra. "Zoom in there," Squall told Nida.

Nida did and focused more on the southwestern part. A large and small forest dotted the area with four villages intertwined between them. A small gray landmass stood on the westernmost peninsula. Squall and Quistis mused together.

"That might be it," she said.

"Might be."

Suddenly, red dots appeared in the water immediately off the Centran coast. More popped up as Nida zoomed out on the scope.

"Galbadia's there!" Xu asked.

Squall focused on the dots. As Nida highlighted one, an image of a Galbadian S-Class Viper cutter came into view on one of the screens. "It seems they might be searching for Ellone here!"

Quistis tugged at his arm. "Seifer. Do you think he knows?"

"Matron?"

She nodded.

"Yes. I'm sure. That is probably why he wanted to be her Knight."

"Are any of those dots Galbadia Garden?" she askd Nida.

They all waited for several minutes, as Nida checked all the dots. There were perhaps a hundred of them. All types of ships and aerial gunners. Two large aircraft carriers were the biggest presence. About fifty cutters, twenty destroyers, and roughly thirty kamikaze boats. None of them contained the Garden itself. "Nada," Nida said, puzzled.

Squall and Quistis were puzzled, too.

"Tell Rinoa to call up Dollet," Squall told Quistis. "It's time for the war."

"Will do, Commander." She sighed, the heavy burden of the evident truth upon her heart, and slowly walked out of the cockpit.

Squall walked over to the glass and pressed his forehead against the cold pane. They were coming across the beaches of the Trabian continent now, and the Central Sea was coming up. To get to Centra would be a three day trek. The Dolletians needed a head start and would get there within four days. The truth was incontrovertible. The feeling was hard.

The war was set to commence.

**

* * *

Author's Note:** The cliffhanger episode last chapter was an AU spur-of-the-moment motion that I had wanted to do for some time. Most people like playing the Final Fantasy battles, but they probably don't like to read about every single one in a novel. Despite the actual story portion of the game, I wanted to incorporate some of the more intricate side quests into the masterpiece and I felt the Shumi race had a promising stake in the main plot as a whole.

Plus, Chocobos **must** be included in anything and everything related to Final Fantasy. Any FF story without a Chocobo need not be read, I think. And yes... they are going to be badass fighters in the next chapter. The end of this chapter is a formidable cliffhanger, like the one in the Star Wars movie (Episode 5). Despondent yet hopeful. All good things must come to an end.

**Special Shoutout Section**

It's been a while since I've acknowledged some of my signatory fans. The story itself is approaching 6000 hits, and over 1000 people have checked it out. Last month saw over 30 countries check out the novel. That's fucking awesome, I think!

Special thanks to the **reviewers**: A Morning Star; Lyle Sammie; The Chucklin Snowman; Pacificuser; The Silver Shadow; Transient Lion; Ashley Fruno; Spirit of Water; Katrina Louise Que; Everquester; 303 British enfield; The Black Knight; Bien Canonizado; Darkmoon Fleur; Clarinda; Guitar Conspiracy; En Extase; K; Dee; and PrettyBlackDiamond

Special thanks to the users who **favorited** my story: CoJanks; Dark Yoruichi; DarkerImage69; Eriolkun08; GothicWhore; Ittan Momen; Kage Mizu Ryu; Lyle Sammie; Mister Bigbucks; and pacificuser

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Thanks once again for taking the time to read Lionheart: The Ballad of Squall Leonhart.

~~~ACJ


	24. Heavy Metal

HEAVY METAL

Seifer Almasy stood in the vestibule of the orphanage he remembered from his childhood. It was not even a fifth of its original size, yet all the majesty and brillance of the ruin was as poetic as one could fathom. The Sorceress herself stood by his side in all her curvy and petite beauty. Matron Edea Kramer, the Sorceress of Galbadia, stood by calmly in her acrid state with her eyes roaming over much of the history that she had witnessed for many years before she transformed into the creature that she was. The almighty and venerable succubus dictator that was to be her final form.

Her eyes were not hazardously green as the normal connotation was; they were just a tranquil green, a light touch. Yet, she was by no means a cured woman. She was simply having a memory spate.

Seifer, meanwhile, was transfixed. Several platoons under his command were training along the sandy beaches, while several others were busy scouting the shores along the Centran continent looking for that elusive Ellone, that sweet and beautiful young woman who possessed a certain _something._ Seifer didn't know what the hell it was, it was an enigma to him. In all his honesty, he just wanted to see her again as a person. To be with the one Squall Leonhart had called "Sis". Why he called her that was beyond Seifer's knowledge. Maybe the kid had a prenatal fascination with the chick.

Whatever it was it was beyond his contemplation.

"They know full well by now, I'll bet," he mused in a low voice.

"Then they should be on their way as we speak," she said. She noticed him forming a crooked smile. "Make the call to all the ships: hide around the southern bend of the continent."

"Will they come from the north?"

"They follow a noticeable pattern. Their Garden is not used to overseas travel; thus, they need constant refueling, and Fisherman's Horizon offers that. You should have burnt that city down when you had the chance."

He flinched at the stinging remark.

She chuckled and slowly walked up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. "You are always so easy to work with." She slowly, sensuously, rubbed his shoulders, bearing down hard on the blades. She laughed at his groaning, his emanating lust. He was taller than her by almost a full foot, but he was instantly as meek as a puppy. "_So_ easy to work with."

She whirled him around and forced him to look into her deeping green eyes. Thoses irises swirled a vibrant, almost virulent, emerald green. Stormclouds erupted vivaciously within them, a cataclysmic and turbulent sea he was determined to ride. The warmth radiating from the deep canyon between her breasts melted him, and his legs swayed but she held him steady to the ground. Her fingers tickled his cheek and fluttered across his eyes.

"You remember everything," she cooed.

The warmth was intoxicating. "I do. I remember everything."

"The group is being led by that cursed scarred gunblader, but the hotshot cowboy figure was able to remind them all of their past."

Seifer pictured Irvine in his mind, and a disgusted scowl distorted his face. "Kinneas. Irvine Kinneas. He was the one who allowed Carroway to bargain with the Dolletians in allowing the group to escape D-District Prison No. Five, which they also destroyed in the process."

"So, it is true. They did make a pact."

"His death was not in vain."

"It is a triumph. Yes, you are right, my Knight." She kissed him on the cheek and then worked her way to his lips, and an intense fire ravaged his body. Her tongue slipped over his, and they sparred together in their mouths. Wave after wave of energy singed his body, and his hands propelled to her back and moved all over her body. She clung to his chest, and a new intense heat rocketed into him, coarsing across his heart and stopping his breath momentarily. His lust rang out for her body then, as he had been granted earlier, but he knew this instance was different. Much different.

She escaped his lips, and he collapsed to the ground. Flicks of fire melted off his exposed skin. The steel blue eyes he was known to have had turned an alabastor gray. His hair seemed to glow, the blonde having turned almost white. Each breath he expelled was steam. He looked her body slowly up, the radiance of the shapely waist and the voluptous breasts and the longing mouth invigorated him and he rose with a purpose. The Hyperion gunblade on his hip glowed the brightest green and orange, as if.... on fire.

"_You_ are the Succubus Knight," she said with a wonderous gleam. "The most honorable title a human can have in the company of a she-devil. You are more than a man. You are more than a warrior. You are more... than a lover."

The smile on his face extended to its widest yet.

"You are the Blade of Fire. Nothing can cool you down."

His right hand tingled with fury. With surprising speed, he unsheathed his sword and spewed a flame wall from his body followed by a sonic boom that blanketed a ten-mile radius around them. The orphanage walls threatened to quake, but they held their ground. Trees collapsed in the nearest forests. Dustdevils whipped up a frenzy. Every soldier and sailor within the ten-mile radius was knocked to the ground suffering minor wounds. Edea stood as still as ever, despite the massive reverberation, her magnificent hair the only movement in the wind. A malicious and lecherous grin beseeched her beautiful face.

Seifer Almasy bent down and kissed her hard on the lips and brushed past to his disoriented squadrons. The level of fury in his eyes shook them all to the core, and they assembled as quickly as they could into rank-and-file. Not all of them made it in time, and he shot dead with rapid-fire succession twelve soldiers. All the men accounted for had their muscles rendered taut.

Seifer snorted at the dozen corpses and then nonchalantly embedded his blade into the skull of one of the fallen. "Men of maggots!" He studied each of their faces one at a time. "Man your stations. The Balambians of Garden, the city itself, and the scum of Dollet Dukedom will arrive within forty-eight hours, judging by Admiral Chekov's data. Maneuver your brigades to Forward Operating Base Delta to the southeast of here. Maneuver the aerial gunners to Forward Operating Base Episilon to the northeast of here. Maneuver Galbadia Garden to the special location. Man them now, and then wait for the signal!"

A strong chorus of approval could be heard as far south as Totum, forty miles away. The ships departed, and the Succubus Knight returned to the atrium of the orphanage for the warm bed that graciously awaited him.

* * *

Duke Thomas Haydyn turned up the reception on his mic so he could hear the Garden better. Rinoa Heartilly did the same to hers and then brought forward some important papers. "Is that better?" she asked.

"Yes, very much indeed, princess."

"Geez, I'm not in any royalty or anything, you know."

"Just a little friendly banter. You're too humble sometimes."

"And you are yourself."

Haydyn shrugged his shoulders and merely smiled. "Ever since your latest news from Trabia, the ships have been set to go."

"To the Fort Arms Peninsula?" she asked, checking her notes once more.

"Yes, the _Dollet Firestorm_ rotary destroyer and the _Dollet Thundercloud_ aircraft carrier are passing the western-most end of the Horizon bridge at this moment. You all should be able to see them from FH proper at this moment. The submarine _Dollet Mole_ is a day ahead of us and will ground at Leviathan Cove just twenty miles north of the location of the orphanage."

"Three rigs, sir?"

"I am afraid so. Yet, Commander Leonhart has a combined force of 4500 men at his disposal. Top-notch SeeDs, two determined civilian forces, and a plethora of Chocobos. I daresay that that will be a funny sight on the battlefield."

"I can imagine. I'm kinda looking forward to seeing it," she laughed. The image of a bunch of birds kicking some Galbadians in the chest would remain with her for the rest of her life. "How big is the enemy force?"

"About 30,000."

She was visibly shocked on his end.

"They don't use magic, though. Their Spirit caliber is extremely low. My generals estimate the threshold on the magicka resistance meter registers in the bottom ten percent, so if General Kinneas and General Timitt can perfect those ion succubus cannons we purchased at FH I think we can score a direct hit."

Rinoa wrote all that down. Her dog's tail was busy whapping the inside of her leg, so she nonchalantly dropped a cookie in front of him to divert his attention. "What of their Vitality caliber?"

"A massive 95%."

"Eek."

"The Garden is especially well-built. I wouldn't suggest ramming the monster, except for a particular spot."

"Where's that?"

"We think it might be the gymnasium area or the south-end classrooms. Detailed layouts of the school show that these two spots are the least reinforced. Whether or not the SeeDs have improved those areas, we don't know as of this time. They are most definitely going to attempt to ram into us, so I'd make sure the Garden is completely durable."

Her pen wrote furiously. "I'll get Dincht to do that. He's always good with that stuff."

"Tell him to get rid of that tattoo, as well," Haydyn said with a wink.

"You know his girlfriend likes it."

"Save her ass as well," he laughed.

Rinoa flipped to a new page. "What of the Sorceress and... Seifer?" She said his name with a visible shudder. The thought of seeing him once more brought a great curious feeling over her.

"There's one tiny area of the school where a virtual 100% magical shield is embedded. It's the conference hall directly in the center on the third floor. Something big and nasty is guarding the entrance. I think that is where the two of them are being held up."

"Is Seifer embedded in the magic?"

"Something weird is going on up there. Our data systems can't penetrate all the way in."

She placed down her pen. "This isn't going to be good."

"I know. Let's just hope for the best."

"I'll relay this to Squall. We'll talk to you later tomorrow."

"Take it easy, Miss Heartilly." His comlink clicked off, and she collapsed back into her chair, letting out one massive sigh. This was all too much.

Angelo pawed her leg and then rested his head in her lap. She ruffled his neck and resorted to the dreaded Squall trait of thought. Angelo had learned some new and fancy tricks since being in the Garden, and she wondered if that would come to good use. If any of the Galbadians had health vials or medicinal drugs, the smartass pooch could fetch it off their corpse and then administer it to any wounded personnel. He had also learned an ability similar to a cannon launch. All he had to do would be to crouch into an attack position and then leap in just the right angle. Somehow, a pulsing energy would leap into his muscles and shoot him like a rocket into the nearest enemy, practically disembowling said enemy like a useless paper doll. Very strange power, but _Pet Pals_ never lied before. All of that could prove very useful.

She looked down at her notes once more, scooted Angelo off her lap, and went to report to Xu and Cid. She expected Squall to be there, too, but she was surprised to find him not there.

"We'll tell him when he comes up later," Xu said with a smile.

"Where is he at?" Rinoa asked.

"Out on the deck smoking," Cid replied, giving Nida some instructions on how to enter the canal gate of the Horizon Bridge.

Rinoa grunted. She disliked his smoking habits. It always made him smell bad. Then she grew confused and wondered why she felt that way about him, again. Well, of course she knew why, but she didn't want to admit it.

"So, when are you two going out?" Xu asked.

Rinoa blinked and widened her eyes.

"Oh, come on. I think you should ask him out first, since we all know he can't do that."

"Hasn't she tried enough?" Nida joked, half seriously.

Rinoa grunted again and went out of the cockpit admist some more laughing. Fat chance she was going to ask him out first. It was a man's job to do that bit. Then, she gave herself a cruel irony laugh. Fat chance that guy would even think of doing that part. Out in the hallway, she stopped to the side and suddenly grew very warm thinking of him. She wrapped her arms around her body and closed her eyes. This feeling had only been creeping up on her ever since the ruined evening at Fisherman's Horizon, when she had slapped him. It was hard to describe that night, it was just... emotional.

_Nah...that wasn't it_, she thought.

She started to walk again, and Angelo gave her a weird look when she stopped abruptly once more.

_Maybe it was._

A new thought popped into her mind just then. Hopefully, the person she wanted to talk to about it wasn't busy with a certain pig-tailed girl at the moment.

* * *

Zell Dincht wasn't a strong man, but his lean body had a decent build of muscle due to his strong past of martial arts. His skin was tough, taut, and lean, and he actually retained a bronzed look besides being among the snowy peaks of the Balamb mountain range throughout most of his life. Scars from previous mishaps with quarterstaffs and bastard swords criss-crossed his chest and back, but he was more than thankful now that someone else of the opposite gender appreciated it.

Milena Chabert never thought she would be in this position, but the past three hours had been an exhilirating and beautiful experience. It was the first time for both of them, and the warmth of their love had an effect so enrapturing neither of them could do anything except lay entangled in each other's arms with the covers of his bed jumbled in a wayward mess. Her ample chest rose and fell softly, her eyes were closed, and she lay in the crook of his elbow, her hair pushed to the side. She wasn't sleeping, but she was relaxed, and he knew it. He traced his finger lightly over every contour of her body and relished her scent. She was a magnificent, shy, and alluring girl; and fortunately for him, of legal age as of last week.

He had noticed that criticism of him based on all his usual charades had successfully died away, except of course from Irvine and Squall, but that was to be expected and he didn't mind them at all. Having the sweet and vivacious library girl as one's lover and companion was enough to stop a bullet pretty much. If Seifer found out about this, he wouldn't have such a ready retort. Even though Seifer was an orphanage buddy same as him, Zell was still going to kick the bastard's motherfucking ass for all the shit he had done not just to him but to the Commander as well. Squall had confessed to practically coming close to being ass-raped in that federal prison, and Zell was practically enraged over that.

Yet, for the time being, the afterglow of sex was stifling him, and he was very happy.

The knock at the door, light and hesitant made him and Mila very curious indeed.

"Who is it?" yelled Zell, groggily.

"It's me, Rinoa." Her voice seemed reluctant.

"Who's Rinoa?" Mila asked warily.

"Part of our group. She was that resistance fighter." He saw her nod but still look a little wary. "By Eden," he muttered getting out of bed and clumsily putting on a bathrobe much to her amusement. He opened the door and was surprised to find Rinoa looking a bit discombobulated.

The thought didn't hit her right away, but Angelo seemed to stir it up by creating a confused whimper. Rinoa looked at Zell's attire then slowly into the room. "Oh crap! I'm sorry," she gave a nervous laugh. "I didn't mean to disturb you two."

"No problem, Rin. You look a little down."

"Not down, really. I was just wondering about something."

"What is it?"

"Well," she hesitated. The thought of this was just insane to even think about it. She scratched the back of her leg with her other foot and noticed Mila getting irritated. "Do you know about Squall's ring?"

Zell raised an eyebrow. "Squall's ring?" He thought about that. "Oh yeah, it's pretty cool-looking. It's got some sort of monster--thing--I don't know what it is--on it. Some type of monster thing."

"I know. I had it as a pendant around my neck after he lost it at the prison. It was really cool....and...uh..."

Zell raised another eyebrow but had a look of confusion on his face, which was sort of typical for him. He didn't seem to register the implication.

The thought of this was killing her. "Do you know where he got it?"

"Haven't the faintest clue. That guy doesn't socialize much, he could've got it from anywhere."

"Hm. Darn. It's really cool-looking."

"Yeah, I know."

"I would like to have one just like it." She forced it out suddenly, with a bit too much emphasis.

Of course, he didn't register that. He also didn't register his girl's ever-growing irritated self behind him. He did scratch his chin, though, and looked at Rinoa thoughtfully. "I could make you one, if you'd like."

"Make me one?" Her eyes were wide, more out of surprise than anticipation.

"Yeah! I do more than just martial arts, you know."

Rinoa looked behind him and couldn't believe that _that_ was true. "You would really make me one?"

"Yeah. I skilled myself in metallurgy over at Balamb Port on my weekends off from study at Garden. I will need the real thing, though, to make a proper caste, as well as a measurement of your finger of course. We'll need to ask him to borrow it for a little while, if that dummy can part ways with it."

Her eyes had grown wide with joy, but now they fell to the ground. "Oh."

"What's wrong?"

"We can't do that. We can't ask him."

"Wh-Why not?"

She gave a nervous giggle, but he didn't understand. "It'd be kind of embarrassing. To ask him, I mean. People might...might get the wrong impression."

"The wrong impression?"

"Zell, honey," Mila called behind him, "the impression that they're going out."

Zell widened his eyes, more at the view of Rinoa's flushed cheeks than Mila's statement. "Nice," he said stubbornly.

Rinoa gulped. "W-Well..er.. I'll leave y-you two... a-alone. C-Come on, Angelo." The dog gave a curious look at her and hesitantly followed her fast legs down the hallway.

Zell chuckled and slowly closed the door and turned back to his girl. She had grown a small smile on his face. No words were spoken, but he knew what he had to do.

After Round Two, of course.

* * *

Quistis ate but a simple bowl of soup at dinner. The Centran continent was to show its redness tomorrow morning, and she was glad. Three days at sea was getting her ill in the stomach, so Doctor Kadowaki and the Headmaster decided to cook her up an interesting concoction. It was a standard baseline broccoli and cheese broth, but they had added in extra things to spice up her vitality: salmon chunks, okra, onions, and mushrooms. It tasted...obscure, but it certainly did wonders to her insides.

She had asked for some crackers to liven the dish, and she was having a hard time suppressing a smile at the appalled look on Rinoa's face. The young princess was eyeballing the concoction like one looks at the scene of bloody accident-- morbid curiousity.

Even at this late hour, Selphie's and Irvine's deputies were still training the men and women for combat outside the cafeteria on the great circle's causeways. The Balamb SeeDs and students were allowed to rest a bit, but most of them stayed drilling away with the Balambian citizens who were swiftly perfecting their magicka skills. Their loud uproarious chants echoed loudly in the empty cafeteria, so both girls had to sit pretty close together to talk to each other.

Rinoa had two dishes in front of her, but one was barely eaten. She was currently chowing down on some chicken. The hotdog tray only had one small bite out of it. Whatever had leaked out both ends of the weiner scared the hell out of her.

Quistis watched her, studied her a bit, as she ate. She still retained an irritating jealousy, although there was really nothing she could do about it. It seemed out of her hands. "How are you feeling?" she asked abruptly, slightly jarring herself in the empty mess hall.

Rinoa wiped her lips and had to gather herself together. "Well...uh.. sort of good. I guess I'm... ready for anything that comes our way."

"That's more than what I could say," the former instructor replied, making a slight nervous giggle.

"Oh come on now. Don't be coy."

"Coy?"

"Yes, coy. You don't strike me as an image of uncertainty. You strike me as a type of girl that takes matters into her own hands. Never troubled by anything."

Quistis looked at her soup, feeling as if a heavy weight suddenly dropped on her back. "Most... cases."

"You got a soft spot somewhere?"

Quistis laughed and shook her head.

"For a guy, no doubt. Pretty girl like a girl of your stature should attract a whole bunch of them."

"Stature?"

Rinoa wiped her lips again and pointed at her body from head to toe. "Strawberry blonde hair, all these silly boys around here crave girls with blonde hair. Full lips, you know what boys around here say about that. A curvy figure same as mine." Both of them took some time to view that. "Yeah, same as mine. That one's self-explanatory. Plus... the best thing of all is your whip."

"My whip?"

"Oh come on. You know what a whip is used for right?"

"I hardly think that--"

"Don't be so coy. What's that group I've heard about on campus here? You know, the one that's practically a sausage fest. Something like a 5 to 1 ratio, ya know?"

Quistis began to flush a little bit. "The Trepies."

"See?"

"I never really thought about it that way, but none of those fanboys aren't really at all interested in anything long-term. I knew that a long time ago. No, there's...." Her eyes drifted to the side, and she was aware of the perky raven-haired picking that up. "There's really only two guys on this campus I admired...and... I thought would lead to more."

Rinoa's eyes revealed what she was thinking, Quistis knew that enough. She wanted to get off this subject, but Rinoa was the type of girl that stuck to things like glue. "Is one of them leading us into this battle tomorrow?"

The former instructor's eyes snapped onto hers with an icy glare that rattled Rinoa's nerves a bit. For a moment, it seemed a nasty spit of words would ensue, and both girls became slowly aware of it. Both flushed and felt an uncomfortable warmth envelop off them, and they hurried to down some water.

Quistis broke first. "He's... a difficult person to get along with... but that doesn't mean someone in this world can get along with him."

Rinoa watched her every move.

"I tried for the longest time. Subconciously at first, you know, indirectly. We were in the same training group here when we were nine or ten or something like that. He was the adjutant and excelled at his gunblading and martial arts skills. I...unknowingly...well..willfully strived to keep up with him. Headm-- Cid-- liked my progress and enrolled me for instructorship training. He seemed to recognize my wants, so he placed me with Squall. Most of the time, anyway.

"Ooh. I tried several times. It really got bad when the Exam season kicked off. Being an instructor, I had already completed my field and survey tests, so I was way ahead of the game. A standout the Guardians called me. Squall and this other boy were in a league of their own, and their interaction caused me to immerse myself within them.

"Maybe Squall knew about it, but I doubt it. I'll keep this little...crush...er..stuck in me all my life. Hope for the next thing that comes around."

"Oh, Quistis, that's never good."

"It's what gotten me here this far. You're better for him anyway."

Rinoa averted her eyes back to the chicken and simply looked at it.

"Your personality is better for him, anyway," Quistis clarified. "It's funny. I've never seen him be compassionate before, or resemble anything short of a cornucopia of emotions."

"Oh," Rinoa replied, nervous giggling, "I've never caused that to happen."

"Now, you're being coy."

"All I did was just be myself. It's how I alway was with people. With complete strangers."

"Maybe so. Maybe so."

The raven-haired girl echoed those two words in her mind and thought about him hard just then. Her skin must have flushed for she heard Quistis chuckling once more. "I'd love to see you two as a couple. That would make me feel more complete."

"Quistis."

"I'm serious. I don't want to seem exploiting or anything. Or living vicariously through someone. Being with you, though, in this short little time, has made you almost a baby sister to me. Seeing you and Squall interact together made me both... jealous... and excited at the same time."

She opened her mouth to reply, but Rinoa could find no words.

"These things take time, but you know, I do wish he hurried the hell up."

Both of them laughed, took their glasses, klinked them together and drank all its contents.

* * *

It was five after midnight, and the two of them knew their squad had to get to bed if they were going to be able to knock some sense into Seifer's troops in the morning. Irvine Kinneas and Selphie Tilmitt ordered their commanders to cease the proceedings and file them to their bunks. Almost all the cadets expressed displeasure, and to the two SeeD's happiness they filed into bed with their sabres and staves. Ready for action immediately.

The Chocobos in the Parking Lot were asleep and outfitted in their battle gear. They could surprisingly carry a lot of weight, so Irvine and Selphie placed all the medicinal packs, ammuniton cartridges, and GF magical orbs onto all fifty-five bird-horses. Xu stayed with the animals, having grown a large affection for them. Despite her duties as administrative coordinator, she had persuaded Squall and Cid to man a contingent of Chocobo fighers to man the creatures and follow into battle. There was slight displeasure among the Cabinet about having her take a more direct approach in combat, but the girl was as stubborn as a mule and would not settle for less.

Within ten minutes, their subordinates had filed away, and the campus had settled into silence.

Irvine caught her eye, and he slyly wormed his way behind her and picked her up in his arms. She let out a little squeal, and he tickled her back and ribs causing to initiate a long and sensual giggling spell. Their closeness had only intensified since the revelation at Trabia Garden. These past three days had just been begging for the ice to break completely, and she knew in her heart what she wanted to do. She had to admit she was nervous, but then again he was too.

He carried her slowly down to the dorms and towards her old room, which was all pink horses and rainbow stickers plastered everywhere. The magnolia fragrance matched the scent in the nape of her neck, and an impressive warmth was radiating off his skin. She caught it immediately and burrowed deeper into his embrace.

They got to her door, but he stubbornly refused to set her down. They clumsily managed to get her door open with their lips locked together and her still having a giggle fit. After a fortnight, they got it open and they entered the magnolia scent. The room seemed to spin in their euphoria, but he somehow found the bed and he placed her down gently.

He had been waiting for this, much the same as he remembered the previous nights back at Galbadia Garden. Except... nothing happened after that. Those SeeD girls were just flirtatious and nothing more. True, he hadn't known what to do, and he had stupidly made mistakes like accidentally setting a girl's dress on fire when he was trying to lighten the mood with a candlelit bath. No, the truth now was he was scared out of his mind and intrigued in the highest degree.

He looked down into her lovely hazel eyes, and she looked up into his brown eyes and played with the baby stubble growing on his chin. The world was still then, as they both contemplated what to do next. Their eyes groped each other and watched as both of them slowly shed their clothes. Little by little they sparkled more fiercely as new areas of skin were exposed, and the warmth increased tenfold between them. He saw that she was shivering, not because of coldness but out of want, so he pressed his body against hers and held her tight. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered in his ear what she wanted. He nodded and gave it to her, lightly, slowly, sensuously.

The next several minutes produced the most intoxicating nausea and love she had ever felt. A hurting pain and an enraptured excitement. She dug her claws in his back and bit his shoulder, and he only increased her pleasure. The climax erupted, and they lay breathing on one another, obsessed and drunk in their love.

The night filtered on, and after a while they laid together and she traced small patterns across his bare chest and admired the coat-of-arms tattoo on his chest.

"What does it mean?" she asked, taking note of the fiery red torch in the upper right quadrant of the badge.

Irvine looked down. So intoxicated was he, that for a moment he forgot all about the symbol's meaning. Then, he snorted. "It's a mark of the Galbadian SeeD."

"They branded you?"

"Yes. Every boy was branded upon entry at eight years old. A red-hot poker mark in the center of the badge exactly one inch above the heart. Then a tattoo of a small buckler badge with four colors representing the four main schools of the Galbadian program: Sharpshooter, Infantry, Flame Torcher, and Explosive Ordinance. We'll be facing all four of those tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to getting even with them."

She smiled at his smile, even though it looked kind of lascivious.

"Whichever unit you aspire to at the age of twelve, they brand the symbol of it on the top of the buckler badge. My unit, the Sharpshooters, is the symbol of a sniper rifle. Every boy is branded with it."

"What about the girls?"

"The only girls in SeeD deal with administrative and paperwork. No girl is ever allowed in the combat units. They feel it is improper for the female sex to participate in a bloodbath, unless it is absolutely necessary."

"When is that?"

He chuckled. "You would _so_ not fit at that school."

She giggled and snuggled up closer to him, snaking his arm further around her waist where she allowed him to cup her large breast.

He spent a few minutes squeezing it and twisting the nipple before he received a slap on the chest for keeping her waiting. "Heh, heh. The only time, I think, they would allow girls to fight would be if the Garden was attacked and invaded. I guess, then, it's a no-holds-barred free-for-all."

"I would love to kick some Galbadian female ass!"

"I'd love to see it. Unfortunately, from what I heard from Duke Haydyn, all the female SeeDs and female students stayed behind in Galbadia City along with a small brigade of male students. There's seven thousand male SeeDs awaiting us tomorrow, along with some twenty five thousand male soldiers."

"Even the G-Army doesn't allow women?"

"Even though they have dicks, the most feeble woman in the world could beat those guys up. They rely solely on their aerial gunners. Those bastards are as tough as the SeeDs are. Not quite, but almost as tough."

"Well, I'm glad you defected over to our side."

"Me too. I was sort of a pariah over there, anyway. Not with the soldiers, since they were always disgruntled with their work, but with the SeeDs. Almost all of them know me, too, so that's the only thing I'm worried about tomorrow."

"Irvy....worried? Bullshit."

He lightly laughed. "Just a tiny bit. Just a tiny bit."

He rolled over and kissed her body from her lips, deep into her neck, over to her chest, slowy across each breast, down to her stomach, and finally down to that incredible moist warmth.

_

* * *

Occult Fan Monthly_ was a completely horrible piece of fucking shit, but Squall Leonhart found this particular issue fascinating. He was sitting in his room, shirtless as usual, chain-smoking cigarettes and downing copious amounts of vodka. If tomorrow was going to give him hell, well, he was more ready than anybody on that ship at the moment. With his head spinning and with nothing at all to do at three in the morning, he started across this pointless tabloid trash of a rag that had a picture of a locomotive with a demon's face on it.

The journalist (if by journalist, one meant a greasy scumhole paparazzi leech) on the cover, Mr. Odelle Burke, was talking about something called Doomtrain. A mysterious ghost machine thought to inhabit the formidable and hellish deserts south of the metropolis of Esthar. A ghastly creation that scorned mankind and rained down horrible, apocalyptic status effects on one's Vitality, Strength, and Spirit. The train, it was but a simple mass transport train, was also thought to poison its victims by eliciting a loud screech of its klaxon-like whistle.

Squall thought the bullshit was absurd, but the story had four parts to it. The magazine began with a story that happened sometime during the Sorceress War two decades earlier near Timber, right before it was burned down. An old man was tending to his vegetable garden when a terrible screech alerted him to the southern edge of his property. A large and grotesque monster had been cleaved in two, yet the killer and its weapon were nowhere to be found. Police on the scene questioned the old man, and he was said that at the time of the death he was making a fence built with steel pipes.

Squall scratched his head and couldn't trace the connection between the two.

The article continued. Exactly two weeks later, a UFO appeared in the sky outside Esthar itself, near the patch of forest by Grandidi village. The UFO was five miles wide and as slick as a saucer. Several sightings had been claimed since afterwards, and a peculiar occurrence would always follow it-- according to the villagers. Monstrous eight-legged creatures with plant-like faces and teeth like the maw of dragons roamed the earth in search of anything to eat. Highly resiliant and a tenacity that rivalled the very dragons themselves, the villagers named them Malboros, as they closely resembled the ancient monsters of lore. The UFO was later revealed to have crashed somewhere in the mountainous islands northeast of Esthar, and a tiny blue alien had crawled out and shacked up in one of the forests. It had also apparantly dropped a valuable Solomon Ring near Tear's Point that was inevitably crystallized in the memorial to Sorceress Adel after the War ended.

The article was fascinating and extremely IQ-destroying. Squall threw it against the wall and collapsed onto the bed. Fine time to reading about a monster train that poisoned you and steel pipes that apparantly kill monsters and Malboros! Fucking shit was flipping him out.

He was so entranced that when the lit cigarette in his mouth fell on his chest, he didn't register that impact. After a full five minutes, he wondered why his chest was hurting, and then cried out and rubbed his chest hard. A nice small skidmark of nicotine dust splashed across his breastbone, and he had to laugh his dumb ass off.

It was three in the morning, and he was ready.

More than ready.

So ready, in fact, that he was ready.

He got up and walked over to the open window. The moon was full, and the temperature was back to its normal self of about 70 degrees. It was mid-winter, but Centra was temperate all year long. In another six or seven hours, the continent's archipelagos would be coming into sight and the peninsula would come an hour or two after that. Would the navy be waiting for them already?

Duke Haydyn was just a few miles north of them, and they would be meeting each other in roughly five hours. 4500 versus 30000. The odds were greatly against them, yet almost the same. They had the magic. Galbadia had the brute force. Only a matter of time before the throes of death savaged all of them to oblivion.

For an instance, he felt like praying. Then, he realized he didn't know how to pray. Then, he asked himself if it was worth it. Who would listen? The wall? The ceiling fan? The voice inside his head? Shit, he talked to himself all the time, but would this be something different? Would someone else actually answer him?

After a good ten minutes of zapping through some hair-brained scenarios, he told himself to fuck it, damn the torpedoes, and full speed ahead. He pulled out a chess board and moved pieces around and waited for the Sun to rise.

* * *

All 2500 troops stood or sat out on the campus greens in a loose formation, lightly talking amongst each other. Their weapons, their magic, and their guts were pulled taut against their bodies, and they were ready for war. They congregated in front of the great ivory tower and awaited the Commander's speech.

Up in the cockpit, Squall and his top brass had radio hookups connected to the _Thundercloud_, and Haydyn's top Admiral Sir Wyatt Humphries was at the ready. His 2000 men stood at the ready with their weapons out on the deck. The submarine was between the two vessels and followed as steadily as it could. All of the brass from both cities watched the peninsula come into view. The orphanage and what remained of the lighthouse-- a mere stump-- was crested high on the hill, just as they remembered.

Not a single Galbadian offensive lay in sight.

On the Garden and from Humphries's end on the video hookup, everybody looked at Squall. The young man had slowly gotten used to his role, even if he still didn't approve of it, and he slowly nodded his head to confirm their worries and suspicions.

"They're in hiding," he said gravely. "Humphries, keep a sharp eye out."

"Yes, sir," the admiral said. They could see him out on the deck directing the _Firestorm_ to take the lead and press down to the south of the orphanage. The _Mole_ dove under the water and went to the north. Both the _Thundercloud_ and the Garden docked on the western side right next to the stump of the lighthouse.

"Just like I remembered it now," Zell said softly.

"It looks so pretty," Selphie cooed.

"Keep a sharp eye out, you two," Squall declared tersely. "I want to see it, too, but something is definitely not right here."

He dismissed their groans and fought hard to find some type of explanation for this. Something about being a SeeD-- _everything_ needed an explanation.

"Goddamn," Nida complained.

"What?" Squall demanded.

"Nothing is showing up on my charts, but there is some mega-harsh beam permeating around here."

"It's on my radar scopes, too," Humphries said over the link.

Squall and Quistis went to Nida's side and pressed some buttons. They scrolled through the lists of charts, but they could not find a direct source of the problem. No red blip showed up on the entire map of the continent, yet something fiercely resembling Galbadian handiwork kept plaguing the reads.

Irvine groaned, and they all looked at him. "They're using a decellerator."

"A what?" Zell asked.

"A decellerator. It's a high-beam projection that is able to beam up to the satellites orbiting the planet and knock out all signals and tracking devices of certain types of vessels. Someone, probably Seifer, alerted them of the type of craft we all use, so the Galbadians were able to plug the necessary coordinates."

"Keep a sharp eye out," Squall said, loading rounds into his gunblade. Irvine did the same to his gun, and Zell tightened the straps on his gloves. Squall turned to Selphie and Irvine. "Go down and--"

A strong blast spewed out of the forests north of the orphanage, grazed the side of Garden, and rocketed into the back half of the brig of the _Thundercloud._ The crew in the Garden was rocked slightly, and about thirty men on the aircraft carrier fell to their deaths in the sea. Briefly, the line of communication was cut with the Garden, but the admiral was able to secure the lines again.

"Squall! Look!" Nida shouted, pointing at the forest.

Squall grabbed a hold of the driver's chair and beheld a massive amount of trees toppling in the center of the forest. Timber and pine fell like toothpicks, and a great pile of steam and sorceress energy spilled out over the brown earth. Something large and deep, deep red emerged slowly and menacingly from within the hole. Squall and his friends, along with Cid, Nida and Xu, looked on with faces ranging from anger to panic as the massive hulking form of Galbadia Garden arose out of the levelled forest. It looked twice the size of their Garden, and at least a dozen railguns and a dozen energy guns were mounted on its decks. It hovered above the forest, and a part of its upper half opened up slowly revealing a large death army of motorcycle soldiers. A tall blonde man in a trenchcoat could be seen, albiet merely a small speck from their view, but they knew exactly who he was. However, he seemed to be radiating like silver in a mine.

A loud klaxon arose all around them, and they barely heard Humphries cry out. All the Galbadian ships arose, some out of the water, and a whole host of aerial gunners manuevered into view-- their invisible packs disseminating and their guns fully trained on the surprised four-man force of Squall's control.

Nida's dashboard lit up, and a signal started beeping. "They're sending us a wire!" he shouted.

Squall stood at the desk and waited for the paper to finish. He clipped off the end and read the message from Seifer. He demanded to come aboard to speak, along with a courtesy escort. Squall looked out at the small speck in the distance and then back at his friends. They looked equally as queasy as him, but they were not in a very good position.

"Dude, this isn't how it's supposed to turn out," Zell said, defeatedly.

Squall crumpled up the paper and placed a hand on the brawler's shoulder. "One thing's for sure, old friend. Don't pick a fight with him just yet."

"Kind of hard to do."

Squall grunted and went to the wire box. He sighed heavily and wired back in the affirmative.

* * *

Seifer held the strip in his hands and greedily laughed. His aura had dissipated, but he knew exactly how to get it back. He looked behind him at Raijin, Fujin, and two other top brass of his unit and nodded to them to man their bikes. They got his splendid gray and red beauty with the golden crosses, and he proudly hopped it and revved up the engines.

Out of the open vent, the five motorbikes charged off and landed hard on the grassy knoll eschewing out of the forest and splitting up gravel and rock across the dirt terrain. The distance between the two goliath vessels was about half a mile, and from their vantage point on the second deck platform Squall and his friends watched the five bikes glumly. A pall had formed on the horizon. The continent was known for its shitty weather, but the Sun that had been out earlier now dimmed suddenly and slipped behind some clouds. A great shadow followed Seifer, and the dust and debris trailing his tires became lost in the shadowy thickness of the Centran terrain.

An improvised walkway was jimmied down to the earth from the first floor, and the five motorbikes edged their way up to a rigged platform up near the second floor. The gang of six once again met Seifer, Raijin, and Fujin and once again felt compelled to strike hard and fast. But that would have been suicide.

Besides, something was different about the blonde gunblader this time around.

He dismounted his bike, but the other four stayed on. Squall and his friends noted that Raijin and Fujin looked more glum than they did. A curious fact indeed. Seifer Almasy strode to them with a purpose, his Hyperion blade lightly slapping his side.

"Last chance to end this nonsense, Squall. We have too many people here. Too many stories. Too many charms."

"So. Let's end this then."

"Ah, good. So you agree to dismiss the SeeD program at Balamb and submit yourselves to the Sorceress?"

"Never," Zell snorted.

For once, the other five didn't hold him back. They each responded "Never" in the same tone.

Seifer put a hand to his temple and shook his head.

"I guess you all are still clueless, huh?"

"No," Squall said, assuredly. "We know the full story now. We have only one option left to fulfill."

Seifer looked him straight in the eye, and Squall could tell that something was possessing him. The steel blue eyes were swimming in a murky haze.

"Well, then, Squall. I do hope in the next hour or two we can have ourselves another chat." He looked hard at each of them, giving all six of them a hefty and lengthy stare. Even against the ever solid Squall, all six of them cringed under the oppressive weight of the stare. Seifer gallantly laughed in joy at that little conquest and then signalled to his four accomplices to start back to their Garden. "Make your preparations quick, Squally. We don't waste time." He laughed wickedly, mounted his bike, revved the engines to their fullest, and drove the bike full off the edge. He cut through the air like a knife through butter and flipped the craft in a tight circle, landing expertly ahead of the rest of his crew and slammed on the accelerator straight into the ports of Galbadia Garden.

Squall gripped the railing of the deck with a fury, and it took all his strength to regain his composure. He whirled and surprised the five of them with an icy vigilance. "Man your areas!"

They nodded and snaked their way to their posts.

Nida was the only one in the cockpit, when Squall arrived. "What do you think, Squall?"

"Tense, that's what I think." He gripped the edge of the dashboard so hard his knuckles went white. "That battle is inevitable."

"Edea's on that ship, eh? So... this is to be the final battle."

"I hope so."

They both looked out across the dark plateau at the ruby dragon fortress. Even in the darkening sky, it shone like a terrible beacon. A siren atop a trampled forest. Glumness sank down on both of them, but Nida made the first move. He handed Squall the intercom. "You should make the mandatory preparations."

Squall looked at the intercom long and hard. _What should I do? I have to give the orders to everybody, it is my responsibility._ He slowly, painfully, took the mic and depressed the lever. _Must keep it simple._ "Ahem. Attention all fighers....Attention all fighters. The time for courage and battle has arrived. Dolletians, listen up." The intercom system linked immediately to the _Thundercloud_, and despite being ganged up on by six enemy ships the vessel and its two sisters listened intently to the young Commander's words. "You will probably make the first move. Flank the destroyer with the carrier around the squad of ships. Have the _Mole_ do sweeping attack movements with its undercannon. The Galbadians don't have those capabilities, so we should inflict a heavy toll early. Have the aerial bombers fly off the deck of the _Thundercloud_ and continue to pummel the ships with the miniguns atop the _Firestorm_.

"Balamb Garden, listen up. Our main focus is against Galbadia Garden itself. If the Dolletians can't master the naval battle, I want Captain Marshall of the energy division to launch a full-scale assault on the ships with the succubus cannons. Otherwise, train your sights on the aerial gunners.

"First and Second Class Sabre Units under the command of Xu Xemnas, listen up. Secure the Parking Lot and keep the Chocobos safe. When a ground assault begins later on, assemble immediately and charge the field with the animals. Use your close quarters combat training and deliver a heavy blow as quickly as you can.

"Railgun units under the commands of Generals Irvine Kinneas and Selphie Tilmitt, assemble immediately at the front gates and the second floor tiers. Anything that comes within striking distance gun down immediately. If the enemy breaches the gates, switch to melee and stand your ground.

"All units with member ranks ending in an even number, assemble in the Quad under the command of General Zell Dincht. If the enemy breaches, you know what to do. All units with member ranks ending in an odd number, secure the classrooms from an aerial assault and protect the junior classmen. Any leftover units, protect the Cafeteria so the enemy does not obtain the secret recipe for our hotdogs. That would be a major blow to our psyche, I would think.

"That is all. Get ready for the push!!!" He clicked off the mic and saw a puzzled face on Nida Williams. "What?"

"Hotdogs?"

"Fuck it, gotta protect everything you know."

"A bit excessive. What do you want me to do?"

"Ram the fuck out of those shits."

"You want me to _ram_ Galbadia Garden?"

"You damn right, Nida."

Nida gave a boyish grin. "I like your style, Commander."

Across the battlefield, Seifer Almasy retained his position on a high pedestal overlooking the entire coast. From his view, this is what he saw: Galbadia Garden levitated above the forest; Balamb Garden levitated on the water's edge just ten feet north of the lighthouse mound; the guns on the Garden's decks opened up and shown in a brilliant and deadly spectacle; his aerial gunners hovered behind and to the side of Galbadia Garden, ready for action; the two Dolletian vessels were several hundred yards further south and advancing towards his ships, cutting a clear path around them. Wires blipped furiously behind him, and his subordinates asked for the first blow to commence. Everything was happening fast. Deliciously fast.

Suddenly, the aura afflicted him once more. He heard her voice speak in his head, and he felt instantly calm. He wondered briefly if he should churn some of that energy to his fellow men-in-arms, then he laughed and decided against it.

He stood erect for another ten minutes, much to the chagrin and ire of his subordinates. There was still a benevolent side in him clawing hard at his heart. He was never one to fully overpower a defenseless foe. He wanted a fight. He wanted a gut-wrenching, blood-spewing fight. He wanted to see a naval battle first and foremost.

Finally, he gave a deep, deep sigh and snapped his fingers to the man in charge of the naval fleet.

* * *

Admiral Humphries saw it coming before it struck, and he ordered the guns to fire immediately.

The six Galbadian destroyers launched rockets first and machine guns second. Two rockets from each split the air with a resounding crack and slammed hard into the destroyer and the aircraft carrier. Small missiles they were, but they each landed successfully and gutted massive holes in both of the ships. Their machine guns followed and riddled men aboard the deck to bits and further gaped open the holes. Seven of the forty aerial bombers exploded on deck or were slammed off it into the sea. The other thirty-three took to the air and blitzed the hull of one of the ships, destroying the red craft in a fiery blaze. The submarine _Mole_ answered a devastating call with an undercannon that gutted open the belly of one Galbadian ship, spilling massive amounts of oil and riddled bodies of sailors down into the marshy brink. The Galbadians both panicked and grew angry at the sight of two of their ships immediately shuddered. They attempted to move, but the Dolletians were already surrounding them.

Both commanders of each force gave their call, and a flurry of cannon and minigun fired at each other. The _Firestorm_ was on the left, the _Thundercloud_ on the right, and the four Galbadians in the middle. The _Mole_ came up the middle and proceeded to begin a scissoring motion. Cannon fire ripped open the brig of the Dolletian destroyer and destroyed the mess hall of the _Thundercloud._ The carrier's minigun sliced open the brig of one ship and the quarter stations of two more. Dolletian aerial bombers went back to the carrier to refuel, and some were exploded in the process. They took to the air again and bombed a second run. Crew on the fourth Galbadian ship, the one that was relatively unscathed, manned another rocket boost, and successfully shot two of the leading bombers down which caused a domino effect and destroyed the six racing up behind it. The _Mole_ below destroyed a third Galbadian ship and spilled its contents into the brink.

The _Thundercloud_ edged closer to two of the remaining three ships, and the Dolletian sailors invaded with their sabres drawn. Men on both sides proceeded to a brutal melee duel, and many limbs chopped off and painted the Galbadian decks red. The last Galbadian ship survived the rest of the onslaught of the bombers, loaded another set of dual rockets, and slammed both missiles into the _Firestorm_. The battered destroyer cleaved in two. Sporadic fires hit the engine room and ignited a spark with the natural gas line. A tremendous fireball billowed into the air, and shattered debris slammed into the _Mole_ down below the surface, ripping apart its hull and dispelling the contents of its crew into the sea. Survivors of the two Dolletian craft, some six hundred of the nine hundred and fifty sailors managed to reach the shore, but the gunners on the Galbadian ship and the aerial gunners from Galbadia Garden's flanks rushed forward to riddle the Dolletian sailors straight and through.

Balamb Garden opened its back hull and shot down several aerial gunners with its Succubus cannons. Three of the gunners collided together after being hit by a powerful burst of cannon, and five cannon blasts smacked into the Galbadian ship and blew it apart into pieces. The two besieged Galbadian vessels were getting slippery with blood and grimy with cut-up bodies. The aerial bombers dismissed their craft, and Admiral Humphries himself assisted the melee combat. The Galbadian sailors became outnumbered, and some dove into the sea to escape. Finally, the blood became too much, and the Dolletians claimed both vessels. The five dozen aerial gunners circling around the beachfront managed to pick off two hundred of the routing Dolletian sailors before heading back to Galbadia Garden, losing thirteen gunners in the process.

Seifer heard his men below grunt in agony of defeat, but he calmly lit a cigarette and enjoyed the taste of smoke permeate his lungs.

Onboard Balamb Garden, Squall was surprised to find Quistis waiting for him by the elevators. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I thought I was part of the gang," she said with mock anger.

He slapped himself in the forehead.

"What do you want me to do? Zell's in the Quad. Selphie's on the decks. Irvine's at the front gate."

"Come with me to the Quad, we need to make sure that element's secure. The Dolletians have lost half their men, about so. Seifer may be preparing the mecha assault at the front gate and the aerial gunner assault up in the sky, so we need to make sure everyone's okay."

Quistis jarred the elevator door open and pulled him inside. "What about Rinoa?"

_Dammit....Rinoa._ "We need to make sure she's safe and sound."

"Ah... that's cute," she said slyly.

"Now's not the time for that."

"Mm-hmm," she pinched his cheek, and the elevator deposited them down on the first floor. The surviving Dolletians were not the least bit shaken up just yet, and they poured into the rank-and-file of the Front Gate Railgun unit. Thirty powerful railguns lay mounted at the gates, ready to destroy any fucking mecha that met their sights. As they ran along the circular disc, Squall and Quistis saw Irvine shout for his men to move and they saw Selphie up top command her men to wait for the signal. Men and women of fighting stature raced all across the disc, some with hotdogs stuffed in their shirts, to get in positon. The two SeeDs entered the Quad and came across a whole mess of shouting. About eight hundred ground forces, joined by an additional one hundred Dolletians, assembled near the back entrance of the Quad where the stage once stood a long time ago.

An incredible deep voice rang out of Zell's mouth as he stood at the front of the large group, ringing them all to motion. Milena stood in front, nervously holding her weapons in her hands. Several of Zell's friends from Balamb port and classmates stood in the first file as well, each looking slightly troubled at the impending moment.

"This is it, ladies and gentlemen!! The big enchilada!! No matter what they bring us, nothing will cleave us down!" He paused to let the loud triumphant cries ring out. "Today, we fight as one and in strong unity. They will come through that door, and we will give them HELL!!!" The crowd erupted again, and then erupted louder a second time upon the entrance of Squall and Quistis.

"S'up, Squall! They gave us Round One, but _we'll_ give em Round Two."

Squall looked generally impressed. "Couldn't have said it better myself." He looked at the impressionable squadron. "Still time left, however precious it is. Do what you need to do in order to cope with the reality for a few more seconds."

They thanked him, and most knelt down in prayer and graciousness, and some even sang out hymns. Zell walked over to Squall. "You got a minute?"

"I got _half_ a minute."

Zell laughed and then looked semi-sheepish, causing Squall to raise an eyebrow. "No easy way to say this, but I need to... borrow... your ring for a minute or two."

The gunblader was visibly shocked. "Say what?"

"I... I just need to borrow it for a second." He was looking so bashful, it was sickening.

_The fuck? Of all the times._ "Why?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Bullshit."

"Please, Squall. Just for a minute... or two."

Squall tapped his foot, and then wondered why he was having this little quarrel. He looked at his hand. The griffin ring. The one material thing he truly cared about the most. He gave Zell a wary look and slowly took the ring off. It was a tight pinch, and he had to wrench it off. The coldness against his skin was completely foreign to him, and he looked at his bare hand with great dismay. He looked at Zell once more, his outstretched hand with even greater dismay, and silently deposited the ring into the palm.

"Hot shit!!" the brawler shouted loudly, causing everybody in the vicinity to stare at them. "You actually did it! You gave me your ring."

"Son of a fucking bitch," Squall muttered.

"Oh, Rinoa's going to be so happy."

"What?"

Zell pocketed the ring and rubbed a seething Squall's shoulders. "Leave this place up to me, buddy. It's in good hands."

"Bud--dy," muttered Squall, but the brawler was already assimilating in front of his squad. He gave Mila a happy look behind, and she just smiled and rolled her eyes. Squall smacked himself in the forehead. _I gotta be more careful in the future._ The sounds of new footsteps approached them all, and most everybody turned to see the beautiful princess herself come walking down the stairs. She was dressed in a battle uniform the female SeeDs wore-- short blue miniskirt and decorated blue top that accentuated her nice assets. Her hair was up in a bun, her dog was with her looking ready to bite into some Galbadian ass, and her wicked Shooting Star with a plethora of bolts attached to its component was strapped to her right arm. Squall had to admit, he was digging this look.

She knew right away and couldn't suppress a smile. The others around them pretended to busy themselves with something else and not pay attention to the conversation. She walked up to him and assimilated a place for her besides Zell in command. "I can fight, too. I need to, to prove to myself that I belong with you guys."

"You do belong with us, Rinoa." His eyes were surprisingly caring, and for a minute both of them were caught off guard.

"Thank you, Squall, and I won't let you all down." She looked down at her pooch. "And he won't either."

"He's always a good fighter to have."

"Here," she said to him, Zell, and Quistis. "Ear comlinks. I, Irvine, and Selphie have them. Put em on, and crank them up. Things are about to get heated."

He hooked his on and gave her a sly look, which she returned. He was surprised to hear Selphie's and Irvine's voice already, and he was glad for the linkup. Admiral Humphries was also on, and he right now was busy turning the battered but still floating _Thundercloud_ around as well as the two bloody Galbadian ships around to the lighthouse front.

The campus intercom buzzed alight. "Commander Leonhart, please come to the brig immediately! The Galbadians look to be making a move!!"

"Zell!!" Squall said to the brawler. "I'm counting on you. Good luck." He and Quistis left to the brig.

Zell smacked his fists together. "Showtime." He turned to Rinoa and handed her the ring. "Easy pickings."

Her eyes alit, as she held her love's cherished possession. "It's so cool-looking."

"Keep that for me, and when we make it out of here, I'll forge you one. One that'll fit your finger nice and good."

Rinoa said nothing. She only admired it once more, fastened it onto her necklace, and then slipped it between her breasts and relished the coolness against her warm, creamy skin.

* * *

Seifer lit his sixth cigarette. If there's one thing he loved, it was smoking and drinking in a time of great excitement. Except, he didn't have any liquor, and that was pissing him off. So, he decided to cut Squall's second set of preparations short.

He snapped his fingers at an officer. "Unleash the mechas." He snapped his finger at another officer. "Proceed to ram the Garden."

Nida was biting his nails when Squall and Quistis came in. "Another hull is opening, Squall."

Both SeeDs looked and beheld what looked like an army of three dozen battle-juiced robots step forward to the edge of the hull. They were armed with twin machine guns, rocket packs, triple-mounted shotguns on both limbs, and a scimitar on their backs. They were unmanned and brimming with electricity. The aerial gunners were circling around the top of the Garden, waiting to pounce. The devilish red vessel was also appearing to edge closer and closer. Indeed it was, as they took a better look, for its halo underbelly was snapping the tops of the trees off and stirring up the gravel on the plateau.

"Just keep going!!" Squall yelled.

"Ram the piss out of them!" Nida yelled.

"Let's see what they do first!" Quistis advised.

Nida stood up, grasped the steering column and drilled down hard. Balamb Garden lurched forward off the water's edge, with every inhabitant bracing their ground, and trekked further towards the infuriating enemy.

Seifer saw his troops losing patience, and he flicked the last of his ash off the sixth cigarette. "So it begins!" he announced with a triumphant glee. His body surged with the succubus energy. He unsheathed Hyperion and slashed the sky with a wide arc. A great powerful aura flickered off the hull of Galbadia Garden and smashed hard into Balamb Garden's facade, causing everybody to stumble backwards.

The loaded mechas cackled loudly and jumped out of the hull. Motors singed beneath them and landed them softly to avoid a crash, yet their powerful feet made craters in the plateau grounds. All three dozen behemoths towered an immense twenty feet high, and they stormed across the land. Twelve ran hard front and center, split evenly apart. The second twelve ran a few yards, grounded themselves in the dirt, and then unleashed their twin machine guns through the spaces of the first line into the hull of the Garden. The third twelve stayed where they landed and launched rockets off their packs into the sides of Garden.

Irvine Kinneas made an "Oh, Shit!" remark, as the rockets slammed hard in the second deck and part of the Library. SeeDs and Balambians splattered in millions of bloody fragments over his squadrons, and machinegun fire blew open the steel gates with incredible force. Irvine jerked his hand sharply forward, and all thirty railguns sounded off. Heavy bullets met heavier bullets, and several railgun units were hit and destroyed before one of the mechas fractured apart in electrical pieces. A second line of rockets smacked into the upper deck and threatened to snap into the ivory tower. Selphie pulled her battered crew together, and ten powerful succubus cannons detached out in front and spewed forth their power. One spew decapitated the closest approaching mecha, whose body blew backwards and its triple shotgun arms going off automatically into the hardbodies of two more mechas. They stumbled and blew themselves up with their own rockets. Two more energy spews charred three mechas instantly with direct hits. The grounded mechas and the rocket mechas aimed for the cannons and splattered four of the ten with direct shots.

Admiral Humphries maneuvered his ships around the lighthouse, and the aerial bombers took off. The Galbadian aerial gunners took off as well and met them in the sky. Some bombers did suicidal moves and collided in an instant kill with the Galbadians, their shattered remains falling atop the mechas. The gunners outmatched them, though, and riddled the majority of the bombers all across the plateau. Humphries orderd heavy firepower, and cannon fire and rail fire blasted across the plateau into the mecha hides. Succubus cannon met as well, and fifteen of the three dozen loaded beasts fell in pieces. The grounded mechas unhooked and charged after the first line. Only three of that group made it to Balamb, and they smashed through the concrete structure. Irvine's squadron backed up as fast as they could, but almost forty people collapsed into death, as the trio of metal beasts barrelled straight in. Concrete flattened young men and women, the heavy machinegun power riddled people's bodies to shreds, triple shotguns blew six holes in people in an instant flash. Seven railgun units were dislocated, and people were physically lifted into the air and sliced and diced quicker than a professional chef.

Humphries was able to dispatch of six of the twelve rocket mechas before the _Thundercloud_ met its maker in a cataclysmic ensemble of rocket power. The last thing the old admiral remembered was a flash of bright light and a short intense heat of pain before everything became silent and calm. The aircraft carrier split in several large chunks, and bodies tumbled into the sea.

Seifer clicked his hands twice, and motorcycle engines all around him revved up to their fiercest. The eight dozen strong army of Galbadian troops on motorbikes soared out of the hull, and the six remaining rocket mechas unhooked themselves and propelled across the terrain after their brothers causing mayhem within Balamb Garden. The motorbikes spit fire out of their exhaust, and the men riding them kept one hand on the handlebars and the other on their backs grasping their scimitars. The bikes landed sharply on the ground and then stormed into the broken gates. The scimitars flashed brilliantly and lopped off heads here and there. Blood splattered and flesh caked the campus commons. Railguns also went off, and Irvine led the charge with several dedicated sharpshooters. Bullets snapped into Galbadian necks and gouged eyeballs. The first wave of motorcyclists lost their crafts and crushed their bodies against the pavement and greens. Unmanned bikes careened out of control, slicing open unsuspecting Balambians trying to get out of the way; others flew through the air and tumbled over one of the mechas. One of the succubus gunners blew that motherfucker up with one large blast of firepower.

There were now nine mechas left standing, and four of them flipped out their scimitars while the other five attempted to mop up with triple shotguns. Succubus energy blew gigantic holes through two of the mecha's chest, but the other seven were successful in bringing down all of the railguns. Irvine picked up two submachineguns and singlehandedly took down one of the shotgun mechas, before rolling out of the way of the dead electrical corpse. Half of his six hundred strong army were bloody puddles, the flesh having been practically melted away. The last of the shotgun mechas perished under the heat of the succubus cannons, and the four scimitar mechas leapt up to tear apart Selphie's crew. One of them exploded in millions of fragments from a well-placed shot. The other three destroyed four cannons and splattered at least fifty people left and right.

Over a hundred Galbadian soldiers fought the two hundred SeeDs, Dolletians, and Balambians left standing. Shotguns, rifles, and swords flashed everywhere. Up top on the second deck, another scimitar mecha was cleaved down the middle by a power succubus blast and fell down to the circular disc. The other two grounded themselves, met more fire, and blew up part of the second floor causeway with a well-timed rocket before falling themselves down to the ground. The explosion on the second floor stopped the fighting on the ground level momentarily, and both forces looked up in shock as hundreds of people fell down or clung to broken shards of walkway. At least fifty people perished in the ruptured walkway and subsequent fires. Irvine, to his horror, saw Selphie plunge down with the group. Irate, he opened his trenchcoat and released dual sawn-off shotguns. Yelling with a frenzy, he charged the Galbadian squad and his band of fighters followed him, their guns and swords blazing.

Up in the ivory tower's cockpit, the lights and equipment were malfunctioning due to the heavy hits from the rockets. Nida, however, propelled the Garden forward with a quick thrust of the steering column. Down below, the fighters stumbled a bit by the sudden movement of the Garden, and Nida pressed down hard on the accelerator. Squall grabbed hold of the desk, and Quistis did the same. They saw that Galbadia Garden was closing the gap as well. Its blue halo underbelly sliced across the rubble and barrelled its way to Balamb's yellow halo underbelly. The yards between them diminished, and both pilots went separate directions at the last minute. "Shit!!" Nida cursed, "We're gonna crash!" "Ram it!" Squall demanded. Nida steeled his nerves and thrust hard. The ship's port side met Galbadia's starboard, and a great tear ripped open each of their hulls. The sound of nails on chalkboard mixed with the sounds of a heavy-duty saw pierced the sky. Sparks and flames erupted, and both vessels heaved downwards by each hull's oppressive weight. They stopped where they hit and sputtered to an uneasy levitation above the dirt.

Another hull on the starboard side of Galbadia opened up, and more motorbikes charged out of the space. A flank opened up on the first floor, and three squads of five hundred soldiers a piece stormed onto the dirt and entered the gates of Balamb Garden. The motorbikes tearing through the sky had chainguns mounted on their dashboards. Within close range of the facade of Balamb, they fired upon the magnificent conch shell splattering the crystalline structures and the ivory tower. Squall dove Quistis to the ground, but Nida was not so quick. Chaingun fire ripped open the glass of the cockpit and riddled him through his head, chest, and stomach. He flew backwards in a sea of bloody foam and gasped one last murky breath. The motorbikes landed hard within the circular disc and stormed into the Quad. Squall hauled Quistis up over the broken glass and downed equipment, and they both readied their weapons and magicka use. Chatter on the comlink signalled that Irvine was in trouble and Selphie was nowhere to be found. The elevator still worked, and when it deposited them down to the first floor, a sea of chaos reached them. Squall radioed for Xu to enter from the Parking Lot, and an affirmative was answered. He unleashed the Twin Lance and went to town on every blugu suit he found. The 1500 Galbadian troops had overrun the front gates, and one squadron of them was heading for the Quad. Irvine was stabbed in the leg, but his shotguns instantly decapitated the attacker and the five behind him. A hundred of his forces lay standing and fighting to the bitter end, but they didn't have their magicka weapons. The Galbadians were coming too strong.

A horn alerted all of them, and Xu led her army of just four hundred around the bend of the circular disc-- Chocobos included. The yellow birds made strange noises but seemed determined to provide an answer in the battle. The new army raised their staves in unison, and tons of electrical and fire pulses plummeted down on the Galbadian squad, electrifying and burning mass amounts. Squall hauled a bloody Irvine away from the heat of the battle, and Quistis alternated swiftly slashing the throats of confused Galbadian soldiers and swiftly casting massive blizzara spells. Huge chunks of ice materialized in the air and crashed onto legions of troops, making the ground slippery with ice. Motorbikes careening through the campus commons, chainguns rimming fire, peeled out across the icy paths and crashed hard into a blazing inferno into several rank-and-file Galbadians. Chocobos forcefully kicked men in the chest, splitting their bodies in two, and cawing and cooing in the process. They got especially angry when chaingun ammo and rotary cannons brought down one of their feathery comrades in a hail of yellow blood, and they seemed to garner impressive strength in those cases. Squall gauzed Irvine's wounds, and the two of them attempted to find Selphie. Quistis somersaulted over diving thrusts of several Galbadians, snaked her bladed whip hard around their bodies, and watched the dishelved pieces slop across the ground. Grabbing the Shiva gem and the Quetzacotyl gem, she summoned both of the gods and watched as they hurled down to the campus commons and single-handedly rip apart at least a hundred men in one blow. Shards of ice flew from Shiva's essence and impaled another hundred more, and static electricity from Quetzacotyl hit every rotary cannon and knocked out every motorbike in the vicinity of the front gates.

* * *

One of the mechas was still alive after the fall from the second deck, and it barrelled drunkenly into the Quad followed by at least four dozen motorbikes. The third squadron of five hundred Galbadian soldiers, left unscathed by the magicka attacks, stormed down the stairs. Zell Dincht and Rinoa Heartilly gave one final deep breath and stormed out in front. Their group of nine hundred fighters followed them and immediately splattered fire and thunder magic at the advancing army. The mecha was heaving, but its scimitar and triple shotguns were still fully functional. It hurled into the air above the two leaders and splashed down round after round of shotgun shells into a bloody mess of SeeDs, Balambians and Dolletians before toppling to the ground and crushing those poor people below. Angelo tagged along with several hearty men and pounced atop the mecha beast's chest and mauled at the electrical wires. The dog sensed where the dangerous parts were, caught a grenade in his mouth from a Dolletian, and deposited it into the hole he had made. He fled the scene, and the mecha exploded in millions of electrical fragments.

The fifty or so motorbike squad grabbed their swords and hurled themselves off their crafts. The bikes flew everywhere, decapitating some and barrelling over others in a nasty bloody mess. Zell was the first to strike, and he roundhoused the first two and smashed his fist into the next three coming up. The feeling of the moment surged through Rinoa, and she fired her bowgun into six Galbadian throats before ducking behind a cover and an exploding motorbike to reload. Milena and her library friends, along with several neighboring roommates from the Dorms and several Dolletians, thrust their staves and swords into chests and stomachs. The training she had been taught rather quickly from Zell had helped a lot; and like Rinoa the feeling of the moment was surging through her as well. The quaint little library girl flung her sword into the face of one Galbadian soldier, flipped over an attacking one, thrust the bloody blade out, decapitated another soldier and spread ice magic in a circle around her. A motorbike torched with flames sailed right towards her and Zell saw it, cracked the skulls of five men with his powerful boot, and caught her just in time to miss it.

Chatter radioed on his comlink, and he looked up to see a battered and bleeding Selphie with five cuts on her face alone lead a charge of three hundred men and women down the stairs into the Quad. The second floor was horribly damaged, but several of the men had been able to salvage some of the succubus cannons and they shouldered the heavy weaponry and howled in delight. Heavy spews of firepower surged across the mass of bodies and tore several dozen Galbadians to shreds. Zell picked up Milena and joined Selphie and Rinoa in a tight circle as all four of them shot, kicked, and defended themselves from an onslaught of pissed-off Galbadians. Their numbers quickly dwindled from nine hundred down to four hundred, but the Galbadians were having a hard time coming off clean as well.

One of the top brass of the blugus radioed in the exact predicament to his superior before taking a crossbow in the throat from Rinoa. The message got through, and several dozen aerial gunners stormed into view from the sky and rained down with machine guns and grenades. Several Dolletian exploded in a hail of blood and bone. Several Balambians were riddled in their spots. A SeeD carrying a succubus cannon was gunned down while trying to pull the trigger; he fell, and the cannon exploded charring a black crater in the floor and killing roughly twenty people around him. A second SeeD with a cannon managed to knock out five of the gunners with his weapon before meeting the same fate.

Galbadia Garden's pilot managed to maneuver off the crumbling Balamb Garden, but its infrastructure was hurting. The damage it had caused to Balamb Garden had not only caused a seismic fracture in Balamb's hull, but its own hull was threatening to be cleaved in two. Chunks of the starboard side fell off, and Galbadians inside the vessel fell out to the terrain and died underneath the powerful halo underbellies of the two ships. Galbadia Garden quivered lower to its port side and spun gradually leftward while carving up horrible patterns in the earth. Seifer ordered the cannons to deploy, and along the damaged starboard side the SeeDs within salvaged as much cannon as they could and fired along Balamb's port side. The Quad, Infirmary, and Cafeteria were on its port side and Zell's company felt an intense hit slam into them. Chunks of the Quad's walls, ceilings, and floors split into two. Members of both forces were crushed in the ensuing damages and several dozen fell down in the cracks towards the earth. The ground opened up beneath Zell, Milena, Rinoa, and Selphie and they all gasped in shock. The split cracked sharply north of them and south of them, and Zell grabbed Mila and went to the north side. Selphie followed, barely making the leap since her back was bleeding profusely. Rinoa failed to make the leap, and she fell down the side of Balamb Garden. Her chest smacked against the concrete side, her leg smacked hard against a protruding pipe, and she landed on her back on a fallen piece of concrete wall held together by a flimsy strand of cords just ten or twenty feet above the spinning halo blades. An immense pain engulfed her, and she looked down and saw the bone sticking out of her left leg.

"Goddamitt!!" Zell shouted. The Galbadian soldiers were fleeing the seismic cracks belying the Quad, and the Balambians and Dolletians were giving chase. There was much action happening near the front gates, and a strange klaxon-like whistle was ringing far off in the distance. From his current angle he couldn't tell what it was, but it was causing everyone to flee to the front gates. Mila and Selphie called for him to come, but he and Angelo were staying put at the edge of the fallout crack. "Goddammit!" he turned and shouted at them. "She's too far down!! And she's in pain! We've got to do something!"

Angelo barked and whimpered. Selphie and Mila went to take a look, and they gasped in shock. She was about a hundred feet down, and her leg was mangled and bleeding. She looked to still be hanging on, though.

"We gotta pull her up somehow!" Selphie said.

"Fuck." Zell cracked his knuckles hard. "Hold on, Rinoa. We're getting help right away."

She was extending her hand for help, and all three of them cursed loudly and left to see what the hell was happening at the front gates.

* * *

Squall had decapitated twelve people in a span of five seconds when the klaxons came on. He recognized them immediately, and so did everyone else at the front gates. The Galbadians were reduced to about eight hundred against Squall's forces of about two hundred. At four to one, and with everyone including himself on Squall's side getting tired, defeat was imminent. The lecherous blugus were having fun and happy faces despite their enemy's courageous battle skills and magic abilities. Not to mention those humorous but deadly-as-hell bird horse creatures, now reduced to thirty strong but still capable and bloody fighters.

Galbadia Garden had disconnected sharply from Balamb, and several seismic cracks and quakes had ruptured Garden's frame and killed several dozen people in an instant when building materials and spastic fires erupted simultaneously. Squall had a fleeting thought of Headmaster Cid just then, and he wondered painfully where the hell that bastard was at the moment. So many people were fucking dying!!

The klaxons sounded, and a familiar voice rang into his ear through the comlink. "Squall Leonhart, this is Duke Haydyn. I've got six thousand militia men from Dollet, its surrounding villages, and expatriates from Deling City coming your way now."

"Thank Eden," he breathed.

Everyone, Galbadian and non, stopped their fighting and looked out to the beachfront. The once beautiful carvings of the front gates and forum area of Balamb Garden was torn and destroyed as if an Ultima bomb had obliterated the infrastructure. Huge gaping holes were all that was left, and massive amounts of concrete and marble stone littered in dirty pieces atop mangled and burning bodies of men and women on both sides of the playing field. Through the holes, though, came a wonderous sight. Seven Dolletian battleships docked out on the northern stretch of beach. Their hulls opened and ATVs crammed with machinegun men stormed across the terrain. Legions of well-armed soldiers and militia men of the Deling City Socialist Mecha trailed behind singing songs of victory and jingoism.

Footsteps alerted Squall's army and the Galbadians, and Zell's forces of three hundred surviving fighters joined Squall's two hundred. The Galbadian commander within Balamb's premises gulped loudly as a combined force of 6500 men and women threatened to erupt for Round Three. He radioed in to Seifer.

Seifer picked up the wire and the call and calmly looked out at the scene now unfolding in a very strange manner. Squall Leonhart had managed to gather more strength than he had thought. For a moment, he was dumbstruck and his old self had seemingly defeated his supernatural Knighthood self. Then, the moment was unfortunately gone, and he called for the SeeDs to get ready and the paratroopers to attack.

The forces within Balamb Garden saw a fourth and final hull open at the very top of Galbadia Garden and roughly three hundred green-clad armored soldiers take to the sky. A short standoff ensued between Balamb forces and the eight hundred Galbadians. The Dolletians were closing the gap. Finally, the head blugu commander told his most powerful fighting force to stay within Balamb, and he then led the charge of seven hundred men out onto the fields to meet the Dolletians head-on. The new one hundred were the only ones with strong magical resistances, but that did not say a whole lot. They brandished their swords and charged Squall's forces head-on. Bodies began ripping apart once more.

Squall held Irvine and Quistis in the back and helped their fighters display their best magical uses. Angelo's barking alerted them, and they saw the pooch looking terribly worried and panting like crazy. Zell followed quickly along with Mila and Selphie tagging behind; Irvine cried out in joy and hugged his princess hard, taking note of her gaping wounds.

They ducked down from an explosion, and Zell shouted at the top of his lungs. "Squall! Rinoa's in trouble!!"

"Yeah!" Selphie managed to say, as Quistis dug out a bullet and a shard of glass from her back while Irvine comforted her. "She's about to fall off the Garden itself."

Another explosion rocketed them backwards, as various elements of Zell's squad fired their succubus cannons at Galbadian troops. _Damn it!_ Squall cursed. Rinoa's danger and possible death tore his heart in two, and he was unfortunately stricken for a response. Zell noticed it, too: the Commander had suddenly gone very pale.

New sounds alerted his attention, and Squall looked up to see those fucking paratroopers soar mightily across the Garden. They were armed with powerful machine guns and explosive devices. The lead pack blew a hole in the side of the ivory tower, and the bodies of several instructors and junior classmen fell in blazes of fire and bullet-ridden hides down to the ground a half-mile below. Squall blinked in shock. The world seemed to fall suddenly very still, and his movements became slow and aching. The troops around him from both sides moved in a ghastly slowness. Explosions ripped apart in slow and beautiful colors of orange; the bits of bone and flesh that arose from beneath the orange colors of flame and black colors of smoke danced in the air and sparkled in the muted Sunlight which had now cast a cruel dark pall over the beaten infrastructure of Garden. A sharp whistle seemed to be blowing in his skull, and he couldn't beat it back. Everywhere his eyes darted, he saw the blood and violence he remembered so well in the Dollet field exam. The aftermath of the Ultima bomb left him the same feeling he felt now-- the act of unspeakable horror.

"Squall!!" Zell shouted.

Squall slapped himself in the face several times, and the whistle died. Xu was blown back off her Chocobo, who suffered a gruesome death in a flurry of blood and feathers, and she landed hard next to Squall with shard of grenade fragments embedded in her stomach. "Oh mercy me!" she stubbornly snapped.

"Xu!" Squall and Quistis both shouted. Zell looked at Mila, Selphie, and Quistis in shock. Was Squall ignoring him?

Xu looked at her bleeding body and vaguely accepted Quistis's aid. "Squall, the paratroopers are attacking the classrooms."

Squall looked again at the ivory tower, which was threatening to collapse. A mass of the green-clad shits were depositing themselves inside, while the rest were splitting up between attacking the succubus cannon wielders and the Dolletian army that had met the Galbadians head-on outside. Squall cursed emphatically and stood up.

"Squall, goddammit!!"

The gunblader turned to the brawler and yelled unexpectedly. "What! She's not the only one who's in trouble here!!" Another explosion ricocheted against them.

"Didn't think you were so heartless, Squall," Irvine said, coming to him with a fury in his eye. "Rinoa's about to die. Are you just gonna let that happen?!?"

Squall met his eye dead-on and appeared to be on the verge of saying something, but he only cracked his knuckles hard. He angrily wiped away something invisible on his mouth and then ordered, "Irvine and Quistis, come with me! Selphie, if you're good to go--"

"--Sure am. Nothing can bring me down."

"Tag-team with Mila here and defend this section. Zell, do whatever you can to get Rinoa up. Understand?"

Angelo barked, and Squall looked down into his waiting eyes. "You come with me, understand?"

The dog barked and nodded in approval, and the group split. Xu kept her pace, and Doctor Kadowaki braved the mess of death to reach her and hook her up to an extended network of medical tools. Zell raced back to the crumbling Quad, and Mila joined Selphie in supporting the SeeDs against the rapidly dwindling Galbadian force. Angered now and more energetic than usual, the two of them wasted no time and single-handedly dispatch two dozen soldiers with a flurry of maneuvers that would make even the toughest SeeD male back down.

* * *

Seifer brought out a ninth cigarette, and someone had fetch a small bottle of beer. While that didn't satisfy the requirement, he was more than happy to feel the rush of alcohol meet his stomach. He watched the advancing Dolletians meet the Galbadians head-on, and he wondered what the fuck was taking his SeeD units so long to get ready. For that matter, what were keeping his other fleets from crushing these new Dolletian forces?

He left his pedestal and grabbed one employee by the collar. "Where are the five S-classes?"

"The destroyers have been picked off, sir!" the young lad nervously replied.

"What do you mean _picked off_?" Seifer spat in his face.

"When they were patrolling for Ellone. Some Estharians came, and--"

"Estharians?!?"

"Y-Y-Yessir! They swarmed the crew and killed about three quarters of them, sir."

Seifer looked at him sternly, blew smoke in his face, and then slit his throat with the gunblade. The poor employee crumpled to the ground, and Seifer returned back to the pedestal, smiling at the fact that Squall was getting a lucky break this time around.

Down on the ground, the ATVs roared at an incredible clip and slammed into the advancing Galbadian horde. Chaingun fire obliterated several of the frontline of blugus, and the majority of the ATVs scoured and zigzagged around the horde of Galbadians. Several of the paratroopers returned fire and helped their comrades out; a dozen ATVs blew sky high from direct hits from their grenade launchers. Several dozen more landed to the ground and pulled out scimitars and assault rifles, and both forces clashed together once more.

Inside Balamb Garden, Selphie and Mila helped drive their team forward, and the spunky SeeD initiated the Brothers GF summoning. The Galbadians were vastly disturbed to see a massive chunk of earth disembowel beneath them, and the grotesque two brothers emerged with spiked mace and fiendish temper. They plowed the battlefield, slicing through feeble Galbadian bodies making their way to the bulk of paratroopers who had touched down. The airborne troopers were at first dumbstruck and then they flew down to protect their brethren. Sacred the bigger noticed this new movement, so he flung Minotaur up with a graceful throw before plowing his gigantic club straight into the chest of a paratrooper. The impact severed every part of his body, and the trooper's limbs splattered backwards and decapitated three more troopers and sawed off the limbs of four others. Minotaur flew through the air and grabbed a hold of one of the paratrooper's suspended rails. With his club he bashed the posterior end of the trooper and then jumped over onto another trooper, the crushed one falling to the earth. Bullets sunk into the GF's skin but did little damage. The small GF worked his way to each of the airborne troopers, and each of them attempted to swerve away from his wrath. When every last trooper was destroyed, and Sacred was tired from swinging his club, the Brothers dissipated and left behind a nasty mess.

The Dolletians routed the Galbadians, and the head commander of the new fleet found Selphie and Mila and inquired what to do. The spunky SeeD looked around at her crew and realized that they were very tired. There were roughly four thousand Dolletians left and about two hundred of her own crew left standing, and all looked worn out; however, some expressed desires to follow the fleeing Galbadians. Some of the blugus retreated back to the entrance of the grounded Galbadia Garden, while others attempted to swim through the sea. Selphie bit her lip and ordered everyone to reenter the Garden to recuperate. She knew that Seifer still had the 7000-strong army of Galbadian SeeDs whom had yet to show themselves.

A few meters above them all and fast losing ground, Rinoa Heartilly lay on her uneasy concrete block. She fought hard to control her breathing so as not to disrupt the evenness of the block. Her leg had gone numb, and when she lightly touched the skin she could feel that weird tingly sensation and the small chip of bone poking out just above the ankle. A tear hung at her eyelid, and the first thing she kept coming back to was Squall and his ring that hung on her chest.

What she would give anything in the world to see him again....

* * *

The ivory tower was fast losing its support structure. The goddamn Galbadian paratroopers were destroying it little by little. Squall, Quistis, and Irvine busted through the elevator's doors and immediately came upon trigger-happy paratroopers. Quistis Trepe immediately cast a Protect spell, and the bullets bounced off or slightly embedded the blue shield. Irvine cocked his Bismarck and an assault rifle and waited for the shield to decrease, lest the bullets from his weapons bounced onto him and his friends. The paratroopers stopped firing, pulled out their scimitars, and advanced slowly. The three SeeDs could hear the cries of the junior classmen echoing within the classrooms, and they grew furious. On Squall's signal, Quistis dropped the shield and Irvine let loose his twin guns. The Bismarck knocked off a good chunk of their armor, while the assault rifle riddled the exposed flesh with piercing bullets. The cowboy felled six of them, before Squall cocked the Twin Lance and blew back two of them in bloody pieces off the end of his blade. He charged and Quistis followed. Irvine reloaded and provided covering fire. Squall spun in a circle, and Quistis dove her whip underneath him severing off the feet of three of the advancing paratroopers. Squall finished them off by lopping off their heads.

Several of the paratroopers witnessed their comrade's corpses and fled, but several others entered the narrow hallway and met Squall's sword. The SeeD and the troopers traded high and low blows, and the gunblader ducked under Quistis's whip as it snaked its way up top, embedded itself in a skull, and dragged the fucker down to the ground. Irvine continued firing, and Squall gutted two of the troopers and beheaded the rest. All the remaining paratroopers fled to the classrooms, and a big, hulking robotic creature lumbered into view from the end of the second floor circular disc. It was solid metal and contained twin chainguns as its only weapons. Irvine continued to pelt it with bullets and Blitz shells, but it made little headway. The robot opened fire, and Squall dove to the floor. Quistis did, too, and Irvine dove after a stream of bullets hit his shoulder. The robot misfired, reworked, and changed aims. Angelo, previously in the elevator, decided to show his face and his bark alerted the robot to his presence. The SeeDs ordered the dog to stay, but the mutt dodged the rapid fire from the robot and charged the metallic monster. A wrap of energy enveloped his furry body, and the three SeeDs looked on in amazement as he leapt into the air and shot like a rocket straight into the heart of the robot. The beast collapsed with a giant dog-sized hole in its abdomen and died there on the floor.

Angelo found some medicinal vials in some of the dead paratroopers, and he tossed it over to Irvine who hastily applied it. Warning shots were ordered from the paratroopers held up in the classroom, but Squall hastily got off the floor and blew the door of one of the classrooms open. Gunfire met him, but he stayed on the outside of the door. With a quick jerk of his hand, he fired a string of electrical bolts from his palm and fried the paratroopers held up inside. Quistis barrelled in a rolling move in another classroom. The troopers opened fire at the wall above her, and she stayed put on the ground spiralling her bladed whip in a fancy circle slashing open the stomachs of three of the troopers. With her free hand, she flung shards of ice magic into the other four troopers, and they fell with a sickening squelch. Irvine blasted open the door of another classroom and easily felled the three holed up in there. Angelo barked in approval, and the instructors protecting the four dozen surviving junior classmen thanked the three of them. The junior classmen looked up in awe at the three SeeD's tired faces.

The support structures failed on the ivory tower. Squall looked up in shock, as the walls of the classroom they were all in crumbled to bits. He looked out the window and saw a stretch of walkway leading to a flimsy ladder that descended warily to the ground level. Selphie's unit was slowly traipsing in, and the Dolletians were routing the Galbadians outside. He took his gunblade and blew apart the window. "Come on!!" he yelled the three instructors. "Get these kids to climb down the ladder. This place is going to topple!!" Chunks of ceiling fell around them and flattened most of the computers in the room. Two of the instructors pushed the bulk of the kids onto the outside walkway, but the third instructor was killed by a piece of pipe that impaled into her head. Several of the junior classmen slipped on the walkway and fell to their deaths below. Squall, Irvine, and Quistis helped the two instructors corral the survivors onto the ladder. Angelo barked loudly at some of the shellshocked kids to hurry the hell up. The cockpit above them plunged straight down, tearing off half of the classroom near the walkway. The elevator tore apart in its shaft and rocketed down to the MD level, exploding down at the bottom and created a huge fireball that incinerated up into the Dormitories. The kids descended the ladder, and the three SeeDs followed onto the ladder.

Selphie and her unit watched in horror as the entire ivory tower collapsed down to the ground. The ladder walkway Squall and his team were on swayed and fell gradually down. Another instructor lost her grip and tumbled off down to the ground, her body smashing in three pieces on the gravel. Irvine saved two junior classmen from meeting the same fate, and the ladder deposited them clumsily down to the ground. The Balambians and Dolletians within the destroyed Garden ran up to them and pulled them away from the rubble. Squall, Quistis, Irvine, one instructor, and twenty junior classmen survived the fall, and Doctor Kadowaki and Xu immediately walked up to them to administer aid. Tons of smoke, and small traces of fire fanned out from the collapsed structure.

The scene became deathly quiet as each of the surviving members of the third round assault all looked at Squall Leonhart with admiration and for further orders. There were about 4300 people left in the fight, and not a single Galbadian was around besides the corpses. _Have we won this part yet? _Squall thought. His breathing was heavy, so he couldn't speak at first. Quistis being his vice ordered every troop in the commons to get a tiny bit of rest, and Angelo went around to dispense as much medical aid as he could find from the dead Galbadian soldiers.

Squall kneeled down and felt a second pang of that godawful feeling he felt earlier afflict him once more. He didn't seem to be alone this time around. Irvine, Selphie, and Mila were reeling in it, and Quistis didn't look so good either. The sounds of the junior classmen's frantic wailings didn't help the matters either. The sound of running footsteps alerted him and saved him from falling into that abyss.

It was Zell. "Squall," he said, deploringly, "there's no way I can reach her, man. The Quad is so torn apart, there is no possible way for me to get over there!"

"Shit," Squall muttered to himself. Irvine and Quistis perked up. Selphie listened intently.

"Maybe," the brawler suggested, "maybe we can somehow get up on that second floor and then climb down the side. A very risky maneuver, though."

That news depressed him, and Squall audibly sighed. _Is this how it's supposed to end?_

Irvine couldn't believe it. He grunted, stood up and walked over to the gunblader. "Wait a minute here, Squall. Did you just give up on her?"

Squall looked up at him sharply. His blue eyes seemed stunningly angry.

Irvine gripped his shoulder hard. "Do us all a favor. YOU go help Rinoa."

"I still have to lead this attack," Squall curtly said.

"Man, disregard our ranks for a second. I don't give a fuck what you have to do!" He swallowed a bit to get that taste out of his mouth. "Just do it, Squall. Do it for Rinoa."

Squall looked at Irvine then at Quistis then at Zell. All three of them gave him the same imploring and demanding look. He had no words to save him, and when he scanned the crowd further, he realized everybody was looking at him. Stricken once more, he felt ready to enter that white muted abyss and stay in it forever. Like his thoughts. He wanted to stay in that prison cell forever.

Thankfully, he was jolted. A loud, callous horn blared across the sky, accompanied by a clap of thunder and a lightning bolt. Rain started to fall, as the Sun had been truly hidden now behind dank and obstreperous clouds. Everyone looked toward Galbadia Garden, and another blast of the horn sounded off. A loudspeaker's intercom clinked on, and the voice of Seifer Almasy rang out to their disgusted ears.

"Rise, SeeDs of Balamb and mercenaries of Dollet! Rise and behold the power of Galbadia Garden. The _true_ power of Galbadia Garden! This will truly be a battle of SeeDs against SeeDs. The stuff of nightmares to be sure, heh heh." The great iron gates of the ruby dragon vessel opened to their fullest, and the 7000 SeeDs of Galbadia deployed and walked smoothly, calmly, deliberately out of the gates. Swords in hand, their faces cold, the 7000 men advanced towards the dilapidated gates until every single line was out of the hull. Then, they stopped in a massive formation a quarter mile away from the smashed ruin of Balamb Garden. "Squall Leonhart, you make the first move." The intercom clicked off, and a standoff ensued. Thunder and lightning flourished, and every person in that region became drenched with rain.

Squall let out a painful sigh. His units looked to him in fright. What came before meant nothing. _This_ was the real deal. Sure, everything meant something, but now the stakes were at their highest. His close friends looked at him amazed, appalled, he couldn't tell. A load of shit now strapped him hard. His friends waited for him, the enemy forces waited for him, Seifer the devil waited for, and...._he paused and sighed_... she waited for him.

A hand pressed lightly on his shoulder, and he turned to see Doctor Kadowaki's face. "Talk to them, Squall," she whispered into his ear. "Encourage them. As their leader, it is your duty in this time of great trouble and need." He looked at her with a shocked expression. "You probably don't realize it," she continued more softly and a great concern and appreciation swimming in her eyes, "but everybody in this Garden looks up to you. They respect you."

Squall scanned his entire unit. They all waited patiently, tired but still smiling. Even some with the greatest wounds he had ever seen looked at him with admirable respect. He knew it to be true. He knew it. He closed his eyes and took a long and deep breath. Using the Twin Lance as a cane to steady himself, he walked slowly away from the doctor and into the crowd of people. Eyes still closed, he pressed into them, and they parted ways to allow him passage. When he felt he was in the center of them, he opened his eyes and took them all one more time.

"How's everybody doing?" he asked in the most compassionate voice they ever heard. His eyes were mellow yet firm. His cheeks were burnt yet taut. His body was wracked yet stern. His attitude was strong and powerful. Everybody answered in the affirmative.

"I know how you're doing. You're tired. You're sore. You're drained. But you know what.... you all have kicked major ass today! We've lost many people, but they did not die in vain. No... for if they did, we would not be standing here feeling proud and strong to continue the fight against an enemy that has no qualms with oppression.

"We have a chance to make this ours. We have a chance to win this battle! I need everyone's help in this fight. The line upon line of men out there do not know the strength that we carry, the endurance we nurture, the capacity of our power! This... this will be our final battle. They wait for us, but we will come to them. We will not let them claim this Garden as their own. The destruction that has befallen these walls still do not penetrate the symbol that it means to us!

"We shall crush the Galbadian SeeDs where they stand, and we shall then advance into their Garden. Steel yourselves for a fight that will mean the ultimate of the human body. Irvine Kinneas, Zell Dincht, Quistis Trepe, and Selphie Tilmitt will lead you all down that line. Support them, and the enemy will fall dramatically fast!"

He closed his eyes again and breathed once more deeply. "SeeD was formed way back in the past to fight the Sorceresses that roamed the earth. Garden were formed to train these SeeDs. Galbadia was probably at one point in time a faithful servant to that creed, but not anymore. This is Balamb Garden's destiny and _our_ destiny!! This will be the toughest fight all of you will ever have, and I am here with you every step of the way. I don't want anyone to have regrets about this day! This day we fought back and we will have won!! Give everything you got. Not just for me. But for yourself."

He looked all of them in the eye for the last time. "Good luck and godspeed."

The entire squad of 4300 shouted a raucous applause and lifted their weapons high in the air in praise. Outside, the Galbadian SeeDs heard the chatter grow and grow until it seemed it was blazing right in their ears. They grew a little upset, but their lead commanders ordered them to stand their grounds. The Balambians and Dolletians continued for several minutes chanting and cheering, until Squall gave them a salute of praise, and they returned it. Squall turned to his friends, the most trusted commanders he could ever have and nodded to tell them what it was that he had to do. Irvine smiled, nodded his head, and proceeded to the front of the pack.

Squall heard his shouts and saw Selphie, Zell, and Quistis follow the cowboy but now the thoughts, patterns, and events remained at a lifeless stir. He walked across the crumpled and bloody grounds defiant and strong. Rinoa's dog waited by the dilapidated ivory tower and begged to go with him, but Squall shook his head sternly and the dog complied. The gunblader shifted fresh rounds into his gunblade and broke into a light trot, somersaulting over broken strands of concrete and slowly making a juggernaut speed up to the second floor damaged structure.

Irvine cocked two pistols, two sawn-off shotguns, two assault rifles and his Bismarck and placed them neatly into his trenchcoat hooks. Selphie had her Crescent Wish, bloodied but brilliant, out at the ready and a wide amount of ammunition for her cowboy's arsenal. They both looked at each other, and he bent down to administer a loving kiss and she returned it fully and gave him a sparkling twinkle in her eye. Quistis imbued her body with the essence of Shiva and Quetzacotyl, radiating a brilliant and deadly aura around her person. Zell laced the Meteor gems into his gloves. This would be the time he would use it, and he was devillishly happy. A creamy arm snaked around his elbow, and he looked down into Milena's eyes. She looked exhausted but comforted in his presence. They kissed and felt that warmth flow between them again. "Will this be the end?" she asked in a whisper. "Not if I can help it," he returned, and she smiled.

Irvine cocked the pistols to the ready, looked at the Dolletian commanders. They nodded. He looked at Xu's legions of magicka wielders and Chocobo handlers. She nodded. He looked at Quistis and Zell. They both nodded.

He took a deep breath. "Let's boogy, motherfuckers!!"

They all responded in a massive yell, and he charged out the gates first, madly yelling at the top of his lungs. The Galbadian SeeDs looked in amazement as the entire mass of Balamb SeeDs, civilians, and Dolletian mercenaries emptied out of the dilapidated Garden. They ran in a triangular force: Irvine, Selphie, Zell, and Quistis led the the front prong with the club wielders and small-time magicka users. Xu and her Chocobos led the starboard prong with the higher-level magicka users. The Dolletian commanders led the massive port prong with the scimitar wielders. All yelled and chanted viciously, and the distance between the forces closed.

The smug attitudes vanished, and the Galbadians looked absolutely queasy. The head commander blew a horn, and the 7000-strong enemy force started running as well. Both forces clawed the earth with their boots, sending the rain-soaked earth up in sloppy mud chunks.

High up in the air, amidst the heavy pelt of rain, they looked like ants. A large force came from the north, a smaller force came from the south.

They met at the center core, and a massive amount of blood sprayed up in the air.


	25. Edge of Perdition

THE EDGE OF PERDITION

Like a monkey, Squall Leonhart scaled the crumbling infrastructure of the second floor support walkway. The mecha who blew up the walkway ruined every part of the portside vestibule, and the Quad and Cafeteria were very much wholly destroyed.

His blood was pumping, and his breathing was erratic. What Zell had told him was a complete understatement. The place was entirely wrecked.

_No! You will not give up on her!_ He had been steadily, over these simple two months, coming to realize just how much she affected him. Her presence, her coolness, her attitude really swung him in directions he never thought he would take. The ballroom dance, the very event that set the dials turning for them, and quite possibly both of them did not even know it. The Timber mission that was really fucked up and caused them to gnash at each other's throats. The Tomb of the Unknown King where she first advanced her fighting capabilities. Deling City where he had to save her ass for the first time. The prison when he was kind of glad to see her after his torture-- that one familiar face that he had thought about the most for some reason before he blacked out from the electrocution. Balamb Garden after the faction war and her dragging his lazy drunk ass out of bed to "tour" the place. Fisherman's Horizon and her slapping him upside the head. He remembered that as well as the white cocktail dress with the revealing V-cut oh so well.

All those memories melded into one of unique and palpable lust and longing. A feeling that was so foreign to him, he stopped for a brief minute on the second floor causeway and held onto a rail to ease his swooning head. He was just yards away from a broken-down patchwalk of rubble that might possibly lead him down to her. Yet, he couldn't leave just yet.

More memories came fast and furious. Her elegant figure that he had held twice in a dancing embrace. Her cute and loyal pooch who was starting to act like Squall was his master as well. All four of his friends and pretty much everybody else goading him to make the move. Her sleeping next to him in the Chocobo forest. The reminiscing at Trabia. His fucking ring was in her dress!

So much. So much.

Yet, he couldn't speak these words to her. To tell her how much...

A loud blast shook the walls of the Garden again; Squall couldn't tell the impact but the source was more than likely Galbadian SeeD weaponry. Something like a heavy duty gatling gun or rocket launcher.

He sighed once, gritted his teeth, and lunged himself off the rail and stormed across the causeway. Leaping over broken patches, he scaled like a fucking lemur across the thin pipes and rails and came to the edge of a wide platform and looked down. The battle was fierce up by his vantage point, but he only took it in for a second.

There she was curled in a fetal position and shaking. Scanning her up and down, he saw blood and pus forming on her leg and he cursed. She was badly hurt and fading away.

"Rinoa!!" he yelled, hoping his voice could reach down there.

It took a minute, but she stirred and looked up. The look on her face stripped him of his control. He had never seen her this vulnerable, not even in Deling City.

"Hang on, Rinoa! I'll get you out of there as fast as I can."

He flinched when she made a slight movement of her body, causing the weak shaffolding supporting her to give slightly. She crouched back then and fought to stay on with all her might.

"Goddammit sonofabitch," he cursed to himself. He looked around him for some rope, planks, tools, anything that could descend down all that length or could carry him down it. He looked to his left, right, below him, but found nothing.

He looked behind him in the corner of a badly damaged wall and thought he saw something twinkle at him. He looked closer and saw nothing. Changing his view, the twinkle happened again in that same area and he brought out the Twin Lance. The wall collapsed, and the aerial gunner hiding in front of him shot a laser into Squall's gunarm dropping the gunblade. The Commander cried out in pain, and the aerial gunner barrelled over to him and knocked him into a loose wall, crumbling him through and down to a lower ledge of the platform. The laser wound had burned his flesh to the bone, leaving a steamy hole in his coat sleeve.

The Galbadian gunner was levitating above the ground in his slick green corporate jetpack, and he was sneering down at the SeeD. "Lt. Johnson, at your service, sir," he slyly replied. Producing a stun baton, he smacked the sharp end of the stick onto Squall's wounded limb and shocked the piss out of him flinging him into the bottom edge of the upper level. His lower back cried out in pain, and the gunner advanced. Squall used his good arm to block another blow, and his wounded arm grabbed the shirt of the officer. Squall headbutted and kicked the guard off of him and drunkenly got up and scurried to get his blade. The gunner fired another laser, missed but shook Squall off-balance. He grabbed the hilt of the Twin Lance, spun around, and rocketed a bullet into the leg of the gunner and another in the other leg's kneecap. Lt. Johnson cursed vehemently and sped to the sky out of sight of the SeeD.

Squall angrily shifted more rounds into the chamber and hauled himself up. His arm felt numb and his back was bleeding, but the adrenaline rush was shooting up to his brain like a healthy dose of heroin. He scanned the sky for the cocksucker, but the gunner got him. It barrelled into view and Johnson grabbed him from behind and sailed out into the open land.

Rinoa saw Squall sail captive above her, and she almost had a heart attack. Squall in his captive embrace almost had one, too, and he almost dropped his weapon. Quickly, he sheathed it and looked for something to grab onto. Johnson released him with a snicker, and he fell. His heart jumped to his throat, but his hand caught hold of a ledge. Yet, it depressed and he found himself sinking fast again. Johnson was descending, too. Then everything happened fast, and Squall stopped short of falling to his death a second time. The depressed lever had released a rope from the gunner, and he was hanging at the very end of it floating above the carnage down below. He was about ready to vomit.

"You little shit!" Johnson yelled at the top of his lungs. "You're ruining my aircraft!!" He grunted viciously and descended down on his own rope pully. With one hand strapped onto the rope, he used his free fist to punch Squall's jaw. The gunblader saw stars and bled from his left nostril. The officer was coming again, and Squall barely blocked it in time. The green-clad officer then went cheap and sucker-kicked him in the crotch. New shades of stars clouded his vision, and Johnson laughed slowly getting out his pistol. Blood was forming in Squall's mouth, so he spat in Johnson's eye, and the officer yelled out in disgust. With his free hand, Squall fought Johnson for the gun. The aerial gunner spun out of control, slowly veering towards the walls of the Garden. Both of their movements spun the craft around in dizzy circles, and both of them began to groan with nausea. The pistol's grip came in sight, but both of them had a hand on it. The barrel kept changing directions, first at Johnson then at Squall then back again. Both of them were wearing gloves and fighting for control of the trigger. Minutes passed, bombs exploded underneath them rocketing the craft against the repercussions. Rinoa looked on, helpless to do anything.

Johnson kicked again in Squall's dick but lost grip on the handle. Squall bit back the pain, flipped the gun to the officer's chest, got the trigger and pulled. The bullet ripped through Johnson's sternum and blew his body back against the wall. Sticking for a second, it slowly oozed down to the grounded halo blades of Balamb Garden cutting into shreds. Squall dropped the pistol and somehow bit back the vomit. He shook his head three times and slowly crawled up to the gunner's cockpit. The equipment was not entirely foreign, but he had to remember which knob was which. Finding the correct scheme, he slowly descended the craft and the closest ring to Rinoa's waiting grasp.

"It's pretty strong!" he yelled down to her.

She grabbed the ring with one hand. "You... sure?" Her voice was weak, but she seemed to be garnering her reserved strength.

"Yes! Just hang on really tight!!"

She nodded once and gripped the ring with both hands and closed her eyes. He slowly, gently rose up to the sky, and she gritted her teeth at the pain in her leg as she left the platform. The movement did it for the scaffolding, and it fell beneath her to the blades. She opened her eyes and gasped.

"Hang on, Rinoa ! Please!"

She couldn't stop looking, but his voice calmed her a bit and she fought back the swelling pain and closed her eyes once more. The battle was terrific below them and horrifying at the same time. He watched both SeeD forces cut each other to pieces, as he sailed down to the earth below. A missile flew past him in a wayward direction, and the sonic rush whizzing by was quite a weird sensation.

Rinoa dogged herself enough to open her eyes once more, and she was thrilled to see the ground again. She wasn't quite so thrilled at all the bloodshed. Missiles were going off, magic was slinging from the Balambians, the Dolletians were causing mass chaos, and the Galbadian SeeDs were doing wicked sword moves cutting people apart three persons at a time. Some big heavy metal monster was ripping apart Irvine's and Zell's teams like a hot knife through butter. The ground was feet away, and she sucked in breath. Her good foot extended farther, and she rolled on it to the ground. Of course, that erupted into pain that rocketed up her spine and she teared up.

Squall dropped to the ground just as an explosion ripped apart mere feet away from them. Their ears deafened and sand in all their pores, Squall choked his way towards her. He had to scream above all the chaos. "Can you run!!!"

She looked at her leg and shook her head.

He didn't waste anymore time. The good arm went in the crook of her back, the wounded arm under her legs. He grunted and hauled her up and ran across the field. The goal was Galbadia Garden. There was an entrance in its southern capacity. The problem was a shitload of people bloodying each other up. She looked on in amazement both at his exertion and at the devastation wrecking around them.

He was nauseous but determined to see that she survived. A headless body of a Balamb SeeD crumbled into his path, and he jumped over it. Fire magic blazed near his right and a Galbadian SeeD was incinerated. Dying screams mixed with war cries, and a grand cacophany of machine gun fire spurted from multiple Dolletian assault rifles. Several Galbadian SeeDs saw Squall carrying Rinoa and advanced onto them. One of the SeeDs hurled into the air with his sword aimed to cut Squall's head open. A shotgun stopped that, and Irvine appeared punching a second one in the gut while blowing a hole into the chest of a third one. Squall gasped in surprise and realized just how vulnerable he was-- a feeling **very** foreign to him. A fourth one ducked by Irvine and stabbed Squall in the back. The Commander stumbled badly to one knee, and the Galbadian SeeD whirled around to attack in front. Squall ducked the blow and Irvine came to off the lithe fighter.

The heavy metal monster was ripping people apart with chaingun fire and rocket launcher boosts. A Dolletian ATV sped towards it and opened huge gaping holes in the shaft of the beast, but a well-placed rocket smacked into the engine and rocketed the flaming heap straight into the air. The fiery missile clump hurled straight to Squall, Rinoa and Irvine. The cowboy and the Commander gulped in defeat and crouched to the ground. A blue aura shield formed around them, and the destroyed ATV broke apart on the dome of it. The sheer weight and force of the impact knocked the three of them further to the ground and opened up Rinoa's wound by accident, causing her to scream. Pieces of the ATV fell all around them, and Irvine looked to see a badly wounded Quistis wave at them behind a wall of dead bodies. The cowboy painfully acknowledged a thanks to her and hauled Squall up. The Commander looked at the situation briefly, but Irvine's stern expression told him he needed to move. The huge mecha monster was still up and steamrolling people left and right. Squall cursed and hauled a still screaming Rinoa up further to his chest and stormed across the earth.

By the looks of it, the Galbadian SeeDs were dwindling and highly relying on the metal monster. He couldn't tell at the moment just how his troops were doing, but he could definitely tell that the force was quite smaller than it was twenty minutes ago. He was but a hundred yards from the entrance when another rocket blast picked up the dirt just four feet away from him on his right. He dropped Rinoa, and the blast lifted him off the ground and tumbled him head over heels into a ditch. Galbadian SeeDs were coming, and he heard their sabres drawn. Rinoa was closer to them, and he felt a heated berserker rush fly through him. The Twin Lance came out as well as some lightning magic. He fried the gut of one of them who bent down to stab Rinoa in the face, and Squall hauled himself off. One of the SeeDs hurled his weapon like a boomerang, but Squall deflected it off with a looming thrust. The other two SeeDs charged him, and all three swords struck each other up, down, to the side and many times in between. Squall was hit, kicked, and stabbed before he slit the throat of one of them. His vision was blurring, and his breathing was getting raspy, but he managed to knock the weapon out of the other SeeD's hand and blow his fucking head off with a bullet from the chamber. He didn't see the last SeeD rally the punch, and he wondered at first why his chin hurt again. The Galbadian Seed knocked his gunblade out and grabbed the back of his head. Squall was too weak to fend him off, and the SeeD laughed and pulled out a knife so sure to scalp the Commander of Balamb Garden. Yet, so sure he was that he didn't see Rinoa weakly ready a dart and fire it into his back. He dropped the knife and gasped. Rinoa spat at his back, put another dart in, and sailed it into the back of his head. Squall gasped and then nodded with sick fascination as the bloody point dangled right between the stunned man's eyes.

He shoved the dead man to the side and crawled over to her. She looked quite surprised and happy at the same time. Her Shooting Star bowgun lay to her side, and she was a sweaty mess. Yet, he kind of felt that appealing at the moment. She was numb, anxious and very weak but at the moment she looked as strong as an ox and as hearty as the most noble warrior. The sounds of the battle seemed far off in the distance. The wind blew the rotting smell of corpses around them, but all he could take in was her scent. He wanted then to tell her, but he was powerless to come up with any words.

She appeared ready to say something, too, but both of them looked up sharply at the sounds of the mecha monster reeling in astonishment. A grenade launcher from Selphie's greedy fingers had opened a massive hole in its chest. From where Squall and Rinoa lay, they saw Galbadian SeeDs kneeling on the ground and Balamb and Dolletian forces cheering as a small figure was running to the stumbled mecha. Squinting closer, Squall saw it was Zell and he gasped in surprise. The mecha was still very much alive, but the tattooed brawler somersaulted ontop of it with no heeded attention. The mecha attempted to fry him with a laser beam, but Zell avoided it and went to its neck where the hardwire was. He started beating it furiously, attempting to expose the main wires. Achieving the goal, he held a free hand to the sky and a light shone down to his stance. The mecha froze, and Zell jumped off it to the ground stumbling a bit on the impact. High up in the sky, a hurling meteor from Zell's new repetoire of spells snaked its way to the exposed and stunned mecha beast and beheaded the creature with one direct hit. The cleaving sparked an internal fire and blew the mecha into millions of electrical pieces. Zell received quite a few scrapes, as he attempted to dodge the explosion.

The grand finale defeated the remaining Galbadian SeeDs, and all two thousand of them surrendered.

Squall stood up and gave a hoorah shout of joy. Irvine heard it and so did Quistis. Both of them weakly stood up and shouted hoorah, followed by a bevy of shouts from every Balamb and Dolletian fighter still alive until finally the Galbadians on the top deck of their Garden could hear the mounting and raucous chorus echo up to them. Seifer Almasy scanned one long time around him, snuffed out his twentieth cigarette and went to check up on his queen.

Squall listened to his men and women and felt instantly proud. He breathed a long sigh of relief and collapsed to a sitting position. What he would do for a bed at this moment.

The sounds of her whimpering drove him back to reality, and he looked at her condition. She was slipping fast. "Rinoa, hang on." He didn't get an immediate response. "Dammit! I got you hear this far, I'm not gonna lose you now."

"Y-You.... haven't....l-lo-lost me..." she smiled weakly, one eye slightly open at him.

That indication enlightened him a little, but he was now hurling over the edge. _Why don't you just come out and say it!!!_ he cursed at himself.

When all seemed perfect and the words were right there, he opened his mouth and shut it instantly. Angelo's barking alerted both of them, and the smart dog slowly made his way over the bodies and the blood-stained earth towards them dropping off medicinal vials to the many that needed them. He was carrying a thin blue vial in his collar that shined in the cloudy sky. The rain had died down for the moment, and his fur was a messy mop of matted length. The smell of wet dog, though, was morphed in the copious stench of decay.

"An-ge--lo ......" she cooed, reaching out to touch his fur.

"What you got there, boy?" Squall asked.

The dog barked happily and shook his collar. Squall grabbed the vial and opened it. He smelled it, knew what it was, and then looked into her waiting eyes. "This will... hurt a bit."

She looked around, saw Angelo's collar and took it off. She wrapped it slowly into a taut piece, bit down on it, and nodded. Squall sighed, held her tight with his good arm, and poured the liquid onto her gravely wounded leg. She reacted instantly, and the sound of her bone slowly peeling back into her skin and merging back with the other bones was a sickening sight. He didn't realize she had claws on her hands, but he sure felt them now. Angelo's collar fell from her mouth, and she screamed out in pain. Several people, including Irvine, around them covered their mouths aghast and stupefied. The pain engrossed her for a good solid three minutes until it finally mended back together and only a veneer of blood coated her skin. He wanted to scream a bit from her vice-like grip, but he didn't thing that that would be appropriate so he let it go somehow.

Angelo probably didn't realize the sheer effect of his present, but it worked. Squall eased her back and wiped her face and soothed her forehead. "Somewhat back to normal now," he joked lightheartedly.

She looked down at her leg and looked back at him. "Y-Yeah. If you say so."

"Think you'll remember this story when you're older?"

"Yeah," she replied a bit deeper than he had anticipated, "I'm sure I will."

Footsteps behind them turned out to be Irvine, who was chuckling like a little schoolboy. Angelo tossed him a vial, and he sighed contentedly as its contents nourished his body back to health. "Oh, Squall, when are you ever going to trust my better instincts?"

"Well... sometimes they work."

Irvine scoffed. "They _always_ work!"

"Well, in this case, yes," Quistis said coming up behind them and accepting an Angelo vial. "We lost way more men than they did, but we won in the end."

"Not quite," Squall corrected.

"Well, okay, the first one then."

"How many lost?"

"All told, as far as our last count, we lost almost six thousand people compared to their twelve thousand, but they still have at least fifteen thousand that fled. And these two thousand SeeD troops have surrendered. We've only got about 3500 people left, I'm afraid."

"Could..." Rinoa asked, "could they form a counterattack?"

"Very well might."

"I don't think so," Squall said.

"What makes you so sure?" Irvine asked.

"Matron wants us to meet her. Plus, we just slaughtered 12,000 people. Would _you_ want to counterattack that?"

"....Nah, I wouldn't want to," the cowboy said with a grin, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one happily.

More footsteps appeared, and Zell led the charge with a wild gleam in his eyes. His body was cut up to shreds from the mecha explosion and various other forms of disasters the motherfucker always got into. He looked at Rinoa and looked back at Squall. "Holy shit, you _are_ a badass!!"

Squall was acutely aware of Rinoa, Irvine, and Quistis looking at him admirably, and he shrouded himself in that old familiar Squall Leonhart way again.

Selphie came up with Mila, Xu, Duke Haydyn (looking mighty pleased and sporting a bloodied smile) and a whole host of soldiers wanting to get a glimpse of their victorious Commander. The spunky SeeD was sporting a Galbadian grenade launcher and seemed a bit too interested in holding it. "Whatdya think of that?!?" she asked Squall.

"What do I think? I think we just fucked them up, that's what I think!"

Everybody gave a round of applause and started cheering again. Questions were then raised as to what next to do, and Squall calmed them all down. "Get some rest for a little bit! I have a hunch the Sorceress will not leave this Garden or this general area. She is waiting for us and is probably keen on spreading a trap within this vessel here. Get a little rest, regroup, do what you need to do, and be ready to move out by the end of this hour at the latest!"

Everyone saluted and cheered and went to clean themselves up as best they could. Somebody raised a question on the dead. Irvine answered for Squall; the dead would be given their respects when all was accounted for.

Dr Kadowaki worked overtime with Quistis and Selphie for taking over half of the wounded and needy while Irvine, Mila and Zell took over the other half. Duke Haydyn went to talk to the surrendered Galbadian SeeDs with a cadre of his crew to try to "pry" some information out of them. Squall sat on the ground with Rinoa, for the sole reason that she didn't want him to leave.

Angelo decided to fall asleep for a few minutes, but his tail was thumping indicating that he was still keen on listening in to the conversation. Squall could tell that Rinoa had something to say, as she was visibly working it over in her mind.

"Thank you," she breathed suddenly.

This was a second time that he saved her. She owed him twice. Or... maybe he was finally out of the contract for her Timber Forest Owls gang. "It was nothing. Don't worry about it." _Boy... did that sound odd. Come on, Squall. Come on._

She giggled. "Well, you know something. I couldn't afford to fall off that scaffolding. No, no I couldn't afford to die just then."

_I know._

She winked at him slyly. "I have something very important that belongs to you. I can't die until I give it back to you, right?"

_So you _do_ have it. Damn that Zell._

"Zell gave it to me, you see." She held the strap tight with a pinch of her fingers and then slowly fell into her shirt and played with the ring between her breasts. She closed her eyes for a second and thought about something really good before pulling it out into the light. "I've been holding onto it ever since."

He felt suddenly lighthearted. "That's my favorite ring now. Promise to give it back."

"Haha, don't worry I will. I can see why it is your favorite. It's really cool-looking. What is this monster that's carved on the outside?"

"Not really a monster. It's a lion. A griffin, in its old namesake. The creatures that used to roam on this very continent we're on right now, long ago before we were ever born. I've always liked lions. They symbolize great strength and pride and the feeling of protection and comfort."

"Hmmm..." she purred, setting the ring back where it belonged, "great strength...pride.. protection...comfort." She scootched closer to him. "Sounds you like, Mr. _Lion_heart."

"Psh, I wish."

She chuckled and played at something with her foot. "Hm, so this _lion_ of yours. Does it have a name?"

"Of course." He closed his eyes and remembered the very first name that came to him when he saw it at the blacksmiths shop in Balamb Port. "Griever."

"Griever?"

"A solid and powerful name of the legendary griffin who was thought to dispel all grief from the universe and so hold up the power of Eden's reign. Basically, Eden's right-hand man... or Guardian Force."

"You religious?"

"No. Probably never will be either. It's just...well..I pick and choose what sounds good to better my life. I'm not one that's easily fooled by mystical elements such as that. Besides the GFs aren't really vast cosmic superhero gods or anything. They're more like depraved stronger caricatures of us humans here on this earth. They seem to be dieties of bestial and homo sapien quality, which makes them unique and somewhat disturbing at the same time."

"Hm. Never heard it called that before."

"Why, are you?"

"I was at first. More of the spiritual nature stuff after working in Timber. If only until I met you at the ballroom and on that assignment. Before when I was growing up in Deling City, no I couldn't care less about that shit. Deling's a big city, and there were many opportunities to go if I wanted to. Lots of GF worship and GF usage, now that I recall. None of it appealed to me, and it still doesn't. I think.... I think a lot of that had to do with that senator who was also a GF shaman at the city's biggest temple."

"Why's that?"

"He was a pedophile. Had a thing for both sexes, and I was thirteen and fourteen at the time when he came after me. He used the religious texts to justify his wanting my flesh so badly, and my father at the time either was aware and let it persist or wasn't aware and thus didn't take a more aggressive stance at watching me, so I was caught with very few avenues to protect myself. I was really scared at the time."

"Oh. Did...did he--"

"No."

"Is that why you ran to Timber."

"Yes. Deling City is a corrupt place. And my father did not pursue me, because he knew how badly I hated it. That whole drama made me so disgusted at the GFs and the religion and sowhat that when I found Zone and Watts as interested in it as they were I was immediately horrified. Yet, the rural areas and the city life have nothing in common. _Nothing_ in common. I came to recognize just how special the earth was and how all the GFs recognized it, too. The two of them dabbled in GF gems and all that, but I wasn't ready to take it that far. After seeing you all use it, I'm still not that interested in it. Of course, I really don't like fighting either so that takes care of that."

Squall looked behind him. "I don't know, you sure fucked that guy up earlier."

She blushed. "Yes...well.. he was...was...er.."

He laughed. "I think you got a bit of strength in you that far surpasses mine."

"Bull," she laughed. "You're not called a lion for nothing."

Now Squall found something to play with his foot. "No, I'm not a lion."

She watched his movements silently for a minute or two. "Zell says he's going to make me one exactly like yours."

"He is?"

"Yes. Who knows, maybe I can become a lion, too."

He wanted to tell her again that he wasn't a lion, but that thought intrigued him, and he wondered if she would catch his piqued attention. She did, and he could tell he was blushing.

She giggled. "Oh but that would be crazy, right? I mean, heh, everyone might get the wrong idea about us."

_Crazy? Maybe. You sound delighted, though._ He turned to look at her face, and he was confident that she didn't think it crazy in the slightest. Movement caught his eye, and he saw Irvine and the Duke waving for him. He turned to give her a look that said _Why?_ to which she giggled. She watched him get up and walk over to them. Angelo stirred and whimpered at his leaving frame, and Rinoa sighed contentedly.

It felt good to walk again in a fully cured state. Those damn vials that Kadowaki made tasted so fucking bad that he wanted to retch at just the mere memory of it, but they sure did the fucking trick. Every soreness, laser wound, sword stab, and crotch hit had been vaporized and cured from his body, and he felt as free as the day as he was born. Well.... maybe not _that_ free but you get the idea.

The Duke was excited and not in a good way. Irvine looked a little pissed, too. "What's going on?" Squall asked.

Irvine blew out an irritated puff of smoke. "This basterd here says there's another platoon of combat SeeDs within the Garden."

Squall looked sharply at the SeeD officer. He looked to be a Rank 24-- a captain of their ranks. "I thought you all only had seven thousand men."

The captain had his hands tied, and his greatest wish was to spit on the feet of Commander Leonhart someday. Except now that the man himself was standing right in front of him, he didn't have the balls to do it. He was a stuttering guy, and he couldn't find the voice to reply.

Squall Leonhart was not the type of man to fuck over easily. He looked around the area and scanned the Galbadian army. "Where's the leader of this fucking crew?"

"We're pretty sure he is, Mr. Leonhart," Haydyn said, pointing down to the timid officer.

Squall took a look at the captain's shirt and found a crooked and smudgy badge that said something like _Schmidt_ or _Pitt_ on it. "Schmidt or Pitt or whatever your name is, did we cut your tongue out or are you too lame to talk to us?"

"P-P-P-Pitt, sir. Th-The name's P-Pitt."

Squall kicked him in the crotch. "Spew it out, Pitt. Why are there more platoons in the Garden?"

"Seifer's orders, s-sir."

"How many?"

"A thousand of our very b-b-best. The an-animal h-handlers."

Squall looked at Irvine for answers.

The cowboy blew another irritated smoke. "The animals that live on this here continent: Death Dealers, Grand Mantises, Blitzes, and possibly Tonberries though I'm not too sure about that--"

"Great. Just motherfucking great." He kicked the captain up to a more upright position. "Is that _all_ that is in there?"

"Them and the regular SeeDs who don't perform in combat, s-sir."

"What do they do?"

"S-Su-Support."

"Meaning?"

"Medics, equipment, st-staff."

"How many?"

"Five hundred."

"Hm. Not too many of them."

"W-We don't c-care for them too m-much."

"Yeah, I'm sure you don't." Squall scanned the crowd again and turned to Haydyn. "You mind escorting these SeeDs back to Galbadia with you?"

"Don't mind at all. You need my help with the Sorceress, though, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose we can take them after that."

"Oh!" the captain named Pitt cried out.

"What?"

"There's a b-big GF guarding her. Seifer's orders on that too."

"Cerberus?" Irvine asked.

"Y-Yes."

Irvine flicked out the butt and shook his head.

"Bad news?" Squall asked.

"It'll be a haul."

"If you like to spare a few men," Squall asked Haydyn.

"Squall, no trouble at all. Take as many as you need."

"Thanks. By the way have you seen Headmaster Cid?"

"No, I have not. I was just about to ask you the same thing."

"Why would he not be here in this hour of need?" Irvine asked. The thought was deeply troubling him.

Squall was troubled, too. He hadn't seen the guy since early morning yesterday. The Commander turned sharply to the ruined Balamb Garden some hundred yards away. "I..." he couldn't finish. None of them knew if he was underneath all that rubble. He turned back to the both of them. "Don't think of this as heartless or anything, but we need to confront her first before we find him. She is his wife... or was...and this is probably what he wanted to happen anyway."

"You're probably right, Squall," Duke Haydyn said. "You take a contingent of my men with you, and I'll keep the bulk of them out here to guard these SeeDs and make sure no one inside the Garden escapes. I'll make some calls to Fisherman's Horizon to see if they can salvage any equipment for your Garden, too."

Squall reached out and shook his hand. "Much obliged, Mr. Haydyn."

"Always a pleasure to work with you Balambians."

"For a first fight, we sure fucked them up!" Irvine applauded.

"You got that right," the Duke laughed. "But we're facing a tougher challenge now. Best of luck to the six of you, you hear?"

"You got it, sir," Squall smiled.

Irvine followed Squall past a vast array of bedazzled and impressionable fighters on both sides of the field. Yes, even the Galbadians were literally impressed with the young leader's gait. Zell and Quistis hurried up to them while Rinoa and Selphie made a small table out of a rock. Someone had drawn up maps and blueprints of Galbadia Garden's infrastructure with some key points highlighted on it. The two girls laid it out as best they could, and someone handed Squall a bottle of alcohol and he slowly drank it while scanning the yellowed paper.

"You prob'ly already know this," Irvine said in a cocky voice, "but I know this place--"

"--like the back of your hand?" Selphie asked with an equally cocky tone.

Both Squall and Irvine looked at her, surprised.

"Why yes, that's right," Irvine said.

"Good enough," Squall responded. "Then spill it."

"Roger, sir. We're facing the southern end right now. Nothing but classrooms on this side. Galbadia Garden is approximately three times the size of y'all's Garden, so there's plenty of places these SeeDs can hide in. Now, the problem is that Galbadia has always been concerned about safety measures, so they've tended to rely on security-lock doors. Scattered throughout the first and second floor are numerous locked doors with gun checkpoints all around them. Now I'm not sure, but I can find out rather easily, but the crash of the Garden could have disrupted the gun systems a bit. That is, of course, unless the support SeeDs got it back up and running."

"Better make sure of that before we go in," Squall replied with another swig.

"I'll help with that," Selphie said emphatically.

"They're nasty pieces of work, Selph," Irvine said.

"Boy, did you not see me out there with that grenade launcher?"

Irvine chuckled and seemed to blush.

Squall rolled his eyes. "Where are these checkpoints at?"

Irvine pointed to several locations on the map. "One door right in the back of the entrance hallway as soon as we bust through this door. One by the western staircase leading to the second floor. One by the gymnasium and the hockey field. And....one on this second floor, overlooking the mezzarina and the elevator to the conference hall. That conference hall is a definite point of interest."

"Why is that?"

"She might be holed up there. The Dolletians have said there's a large magicka field binding around it."

"Then that's where she is, if the Galbadians don't use magic."

"Right."

"What's this Cerberus creature?"

"It's exactly like in the myths. A large three-headed dog that does nothing except pounce and bite you. Nasty piece of shit. The Galbadians kept it in pens down below the Garden for use in the gladitorial fights up in Ithius. Except, they realized it was a GF so it couldn't lose. The Galbadians have been able to make money off it, as it pretty much decimates anything it comes in contact with."

Squall looked at him. "So, it's unbeatable."

"Of course, it's a GF."

"But, if we use GFs against it, or it recognizes that we hold some, what then?"

Irvine scratched his chin. "I dunno, I've never been in a situation like that."

"Well, no sense in worrying about a stupid little dog right?" Zell asked in his dumb boyishness.

A growl and small nip on his leg came from Angelo, and he immediately apologized.

"Well, then, fuck it we'll deal with that when it comes up," Squall snorted. "How best can we get to this conference room while avoiding the bulk of the trouble?"

Irvine pointed at the door then back to the map. "Go through that door and head east. The north and western sections are where the most security is at. That's where Martine was located, and he didn't care for his pupils to address him that much. Head east up the stairs to the second floor and to the mezzarina. There should be one checkpoint up there, and then we'll have to deal with several locked doors."

"Hm, I might be able to help with that," Rinoa said suddenly.

"What's that?" Squall asked.

"Remember the Timber mission? I have an extensive knowledge of Galbadian codecs. The blugus never seem to learn, and I am pretty confident that the SeeDs use the same systems as the soldiers do."

"You're probably right, Rin," Irvine said. "What do you think?" he asked Squall.

He didn't answer at first. The thought of using her in the frontline part suddenly stopped his breath short a minute. _What is this? Have I become a totally different person now?_ He realized he was being silent, so he quickly muttered, "Yeah, that's good. We'll just keep watch."

Irvine looked ready to say something, so Squall quickly countered, "Alright, after that then what?"

"The third floor stairway should appear leading us up to a vast atrium where only the priviledged get to enter. Cerberus should be up there....as well as..Seifer and Edea."

Squall nodded and said nothing for a little while.

"This is it, guys," Quistis said. Everybody nodded to her. "This is the moment where we confront our past and conquer it. And... hopefully.. there will be a light at the end of the tunnel."

"There's _always_ a light at the end of the tunnel," Squall corrected her. "Always. I cannot fully explain what it would look like, but I know without a doubt that there is always another end in sight."

Everybody looked at him in a spectral wonderment. Not everyday you heard this guy spout that off.

The boldness in his response died swiftly, and he laughed nervously and looked down at the floor. "Heh, I'm not quite good at explaining myself sometimes. We've come this far anyway, there's probably no use in me saying anything about it."

"Wrong," Rinoa said. "We're still listening. We want you to tell us how you feel."

"Damn right, Squall!" Zell shouted. "Come on, where's that badass self you always display in battle, huh?"

Quistis folded her arms lightly across her chest and smiled, and he could tell the other two were doing the same thing without looking at them.

Squall mulled it over one more time. "Alright. We've come this far, we know the past. She knows the past, she made the decision to fight the succubus power that dwelled within her, and it consumed her being. Thus, we have no choice but to help her fight it back and possibly out of her completely-- if that's even possible. I can't fight her as Matron, because I will personally lose." He saw everyone nod in affirmative. "We fight her as Edea, and we stand a slim chance of winning. I don't like slim chances, but this one's all that I'd ever take. So...let's go in there and not only make history for the day... but possibly save someone who we all can call a sister we never had."

"Well put," Irvine said, cocking his pistols, assault rifles, and Bismarck firmly taut. "Let's show some thunder, Mr. Commander."

"Booyaka!" Selphie shouted, brandishing her Crescent Wish.

Zell was silent, but he was caught in a variety of enthusiastic motions and he was fistbumping himself all over the place.

Quistis was as silent and cool as she always was, and her Slaying Tail was out and ready to snake around anything that dared to move towards her.

Rinoa readied more darts into her bowgun, but she kept a beaming eye on him all the time. Squall returned the gaze more than once, unsheathed his Twin Lance, and turned back to his waiting fighters.

Duke Haydyn and Xu came to his position, eager to hear the news.

"We make way, Mr. Haydyn. Give me the First and Second Infantry. Xu give me some of your hard magicka users. About a hundred. That should be good enough. Have the infantry units scale into that massive hull there and regroup at the eastern staircase. The magic users come with us six. You two commanders keep charge out here and make sure no Galbadian leaves this peninsula."

"Affirmative, sir," the two of them sounded in unison, saluting him crisply. He returned it and watched as his four hundred strong army split into their respective places. On his signal, the two infantry units marched into the open hull with their sabres ready. He turned to his five loyal companions, and the dog as well, and nodded. They returned it, and he raised his hand to beckon the magic users, and the whole Balamb and Dolletian force outside the dilapidated Gardens shook the area with a raucous chorus.

History would be made that day.

* * *

Squall Leonhart thrust open the door with a powerful kick of his boot.

The hallway was eerily quiet and torn to pieces. The ceiling shaft lights had been downed and now littered the floor with shiny sharp chunks. Walls had been gutted, and slabs of gray wall piled atop entrances to classrooms and carved open the first gun checkpoint. The assembly was indeed down for the count; it needed engineers to fix it back up. Several female and junior classmen were crushed underneath the slabs, and trails of blood dribbled in a zig zag fashion over much of the floor. All of the manmade lighting was dismantled, and only the dim gray cloudy light from the sky filtered into large gaps of the ceiling. Rain had drenched part of the floor, and the place smelled pretty horrible.

Squall stood in the forefront of the opening, his gunblade held menacingly at the ready. His sihoullete shone against the pearly glow of the outside abyss, his five friends huddled behind him with their weapons at the ready, and Angelo panting slightly between Squall's legs with a determined anger covering his furry face. The Commander scanned the narrow walkway carefully. If there really was a sizeable portion of combat SeeDs left, they could be hiding anywhere now in this bombed-out ghetto of a Garden-- much like that indefatiguable paratrooper who had surprised him earlier. He signalled to his crew to be on alert, and he plunged into the enemy's camp.

The air was thick with blood, rainwater, and fear. They wanted to move cautiously, but the ambience was horrible and their feet made echos across the floor. Squall held his gunblade like an assault rifle, the deadly chamber cocked at the ready for the nearest bogey that showed his face. Irvine came swiftly to his right side and Zell to his left. The brawler's fists were glowing with fire, and the cowboy's pistols were out in both hands. The girls were trailing softly behind them, and rank-and-file magicka SeeDs equipped with staves brimming in fire, lightning, and ice strode up behind them. One of the classrooms was sealed off, and the smell of death lingered heavily inside. A hole in the wall to the right of the blocked door revealed that much. The plan was to head east, so they chose to avoid the gun point north of them. However, Squall paused and stood still for a moment.

_Better to use all available resources._ He motioned for twenty magic SeeDs to head north, and he watched them disappear from sight. He circled back around and took the eastern route. Balamb Garden's hull had invariably caused a great deal of damage on the eastern side, and it looked like a misplaced bomb from a Galbadian mecha blew a massive damage in the commons area located along the eastern side. More dead bodies littered the place, and the stench was almost unbearable.

The stairs were in sight at the very end of the hall, and they heard voices. Squall motioned ten more magic SeeDs to guard the hallway, and he led the way to the stairs. Footsteps sounded on the steps of the descending ladder, and Irvine cocked his pistols twice to stop the movement. "Whoever's up there, show yourselves!" Squall demanded. "There are too many of us, and not enough of you!"

"Squall?" a familiar deep voice emitted above them. "Hey, it's Squall, ya know?"

Squall cocked an eyebrow at his crew, who mimiced his movement.

"AFFIRMATIVE," came the expected response.

Squall took his chances, kept the Twin Lance out, and moved up the stairs, Irvine and Zell hot on his heels. Raijin immediately threw his hands up and feigned surprise. "Whoa, there, Squall, ya know. We're not here to cause problems."

"Too late for that, Raijin."

"I know, I know." His voice was pleading, and his eyes told Squall that he was very disturbed about something. After a full minute, the Commander relaxed his stance and the others did, too. He stole a glance at Fujin and was shocked to find the usually rigid gray-haired warrior shellshocked.

"FATIGUED," she said wearily.

"Me too, ya know. Allow me to say that you guys are, like, real badasses."

"No shit," Zell said, crossing his arms, "thank you _Captain_ Obvious."

Selphie and Rinoa giggled, and Irvine had to smile at that, too. Sometimes, the brawler's impeccable hyperness had a humourous streak to it.

"Uh...well, maybe. Listen, things are, like, really fucked up, ya know?"

"Like how, Raijin," Squall asked.

"Seifer's gone, like, really psycho, ya know. He's like killed off six of his top generals, ya know. The guy's been chain-smoking and beer-swillin for almost five hours straight now."

"So he's inebriated?"

"Nah, not in the slightest. There's some kind of weird pulsing energy surrounding him." His voice was stammering a bit, much to Squall's confusion.

"Well, yeah, the Sorceress is in the conference room."

"Yeah, man, but _he's_ pulsing."

"He is?"

"Yeah, ya know. Something's _inside_ him, kind of. He's not the same Seifer we used ta know."

Squall looked at the others. That seemed to be the obvious, and they were just now realizing it? His friends gave him the same look of confusion.

"REQUEST."

"Yeah. We're leaving him up to you. We want you to get the real Seifer back, ya know."

It was a true request, and both of their eyes showed it. Squall wasn't sure what to make of it, so he blindly nodded in approval.

"Thanks, Squall, ya know you're not that bad of a dude."

Squall levelled his eyes to Raijin's. "You're... not that bad yourself."

"Heh, keep in mind that once you get him back we're still gonna knock ya some for the wounds you all inflicted on us back at Balamb."

"Oh, of course. Of course. I'm already geared for it."

"WONDERFUL," Fujin said snarkily.

"Well, then, ya know. Watch your back, ya hear? This second floor is crawling with little monsters."

"Are there any SeeDs?"

"The bulk of them departed back for Galbadia, though I'm not sure if any are still left."

"How did they escape?"

"By boat through this vessel's basement. They hit the spring canal in that forest and escaped back to Sutterman's Island north of here. They're probably on the mainland now as we speak.":

Squall sighed angrily and nodded his head. "Alright, you two, get the fuck out of here and take this."

"What is it?"

Squall handed him a coin. "This is to say to Duke Haydyn that I permitted you to leave as a "friendly" enemy. That way, you won't suffer the humiliation of the surrendered Galbadian SeeDs out there."

"Ah, much obliged, ya know." He gave it to Fujin for safekeeping, for she knew that he would lose it. They turned to leave, but he stopped and said, "Be careful, Squall. It would suck to lose you at this time."

"Much appreciated, Raijin."

The group watched them go, and both Irvine and Zell looked ready to refute Squall's decision. It was all it physically took to keep Zell restrained from beating the burly quarterstaff-wielder up. Quistis even looked a little puzzled. "Squall, they're part of Edea's force. You sure it's a good idea to let them go?"

Hardly the responses he wanted to hear. He turned to them sharply. "Look around you. Probably 20,000 people died today. A lot of people are weary and tired and sore. Should we add two more people who have been part of _our_ squad for a long time to the list of deceased or unfortunate? I'm ready to call it a day myself, but there's still important work to do."

Quistis nodded. "You're right. You're right."

Squall motioned for thirty more to secure the staircase area of the second floor, and the Commander headed for the mezzarina. A sturdy checkpoint door guarded the entrance to the vernacular walkway, but the guns were jammed and inoperable. Rinoa looked at the control panel and frowned. "Needs a master key before I can do anything to it."

"Hm," Irvine said scanning each of the five rooms located in this hallway. Not much damage was seen in this walkway except for some ruptured floorboards and one downed shaft light. "Maybe it's in one of these rooms."

Squall motioned for the rest of the magic SeeDs to wait in the hallway, and he kicked one of the doors open. Twin Lance out at the ready, he barged in and found nothing but overturned chairs and desks. A map of potential targets of Balamb shipping points was torn in half. He checked the desks and filing cabinets, and Zell checked another room for the same. The girls checked a third room, and Irvine provided lookout with the magic SeeDs. The three checked rooms turned up nothing, and Squall jammed a fourth door open. More damage revealed itself as a bomb must have blown open the back wall. Tons of ceiling boards were plunged down, and it was quite dark inside.

Rinoa and Selphie followed him in. Whimpers pricked their attention, and the sharp snap and the deathly cock of the Twin Lance aimed at a pile of rubble with two small feet sticking out the opposite end. Trails of blood leaked out underneath. Squall slowly walked around the wreckage and found a gravely wounded girl clutching onto a small envelope. She was dying slowly and painfully, and the wound was deep; there was nothing anyone could do. It seemed the mere sight of Squall, Rinoa, and Selphie was enough to finish her off. She breathed "Open" once and expired, her eyes rolling back in her head.

Squall felt a lump enter his throat, and he pried the envelope out of her cold hands. Ripping it open, the key fell into his palm, and Rinoa muttered, "That's it."

Squall took another look at the dead girl and tossed Rinoa the key.

A loud smack of feet hitting the floor sounded outside followed by shrieks from some of the magic SeeD. "Squall!!" Irvine shouted. Zell followed suit. The Commander stormed into the hallway and stopped cold in his tracks. A hideous creature with four spindly arms topped in greenish-blue blades stood defiantly in the center of the walkway atop three dead magic SeeDs. It had crashed from the third floor atrium, and its hideous maw was wrathfully gnashing at air and its yellowed teeth looked hungry for flesh. The four bladed arms spun wildly in the air and caught a shocked SeeD in the throat, flailing him to the floor like a fish out of water.

Irvine unleashed his pistols, but the bullets only dripped out of the flesh spilling scant amounts of blood. The creature, known to many Centrans as the infamous tarantula-like Death Dealer, slammed two bladed arms into the floor with the whiplash rocketing Irvine into the air and into one of the rooms. The other two arms immediately whirled around slashing stomachs and heads off the dumbfounded SeeDs.

"Fight, goddammit! Fight this bitch!!" Squall shouted, firing a bullet off his gunblade. The massive force of the Twin Lance bullet sank into the creature's chest. It too fell out, but a larger gush of blood followed. The SeeDs jolted and spilt fire and lightning magic into the creature's hide, drilling the creature to the ground and snaring off one of its limbs. Angelo barked and dodged thrusts of the creature's limbs to aid some of the fallen SeeDs, while Rinoa fired sharp darts into the creature's belly and head. It stuck in the Dealer like porcupine pins and caused the creature to hurl. Zell was not overzealous to charge, on account of the swinging arms, but he churned up an incinerating fireball from Ifrit and plowed the magic into the creature's face, burning half of it away. The Death Dealer screamed loudly and fell on its back, another of its legs burning away by another magic spell from Zell. Quistis whipped her bladed Slaying Tail around and slit the throat of the Death Dealer, killing it instantly.

More screams occurred below them on the first floor, as well as more growls. The staircases heaved from a massive blow that must have been the Death Dealers smacking SeeDs straight into the steps. At the crossroads of walkways on the second floor, more Dealers plowed through walls. There were three on the second floor, and from the sounds of it at least five on the first. Zell, against his best wishes, charged unleashing wave after wave of fire magic. The first Death Dealer perished instantly under the heat of a combined force of Zell and four other SeeD's fiery spells before the second Death Dealer impaled three of the SeeDs. Irvine brushed his spill off and charged with Quistis and Selphie firing the assault rifle this time and gaining some traction on that.

Squall grabbed Rinoa's shoulder and hurried her to the door. She stuck the master key in, and an affirmative sound replied. He turned back as she dabbled with the codes and fired lightning magic into the Death Dealer who barrelled past his friends straight for them. The lightning spell merely rebounded off the creature and zapped into a wall. The four arms were waving madly, and Squall cursed and charged at it. He ducked under one swing and slashed at another arm. He hurled over another thrust and narrowly missed a lunging bite of the Dealer's ugly maw. He switched to fire magic and blazed a bold thrust into its stomach, stumbling it into the wall. Swiftly he chopped off two limbs before being forced into the opposite wall. The Dealer lunged forward with another bite, but Squall duck and stabbed into its gut. The Death Dealer made a sound and used its stumpy arm to give a blow to Squall's back. Squall rolled on the ground and blazed another fireball into the open wound in the gut, stumbling the Death Dealer further to the ground. Finally, he stood up and decapitated the creature with a heaving swing. Rinoa got the door open, and Zell and Irvine combined to finish off the last Death Dealer on the second floor.

The Death Dealers had slaughtered all of the SeeDs on the first floor, although they had lost two in the process. They couldn't find ways to ascend the stairs so they hurried drunkenly to gain ground on Haydyn's men who could be heard firing somewhere in the distance at something.

"Goddamn that Seifer," Squall shouted, "why is he sending forest creatures out to get us?!?"

The door slid open revealing the large second floor atrium and mezzarina, and more combat reached them. A Death Dealer and a Blitz leaped up onto the second floor, and the Blitz hurled its electrified sabre into the throat of the last standing magic SeeD in Squall's company. Squall cursed and wondered why his SeeDs could so easily be defeated--- then he remembered they were one class above the juniors, and he cursed at his poor planning.

The Death Dealer barrelled in front of the Blitz and smashed through the checkpoint doors disabling the equipment and sending both Rinoa and Squall flying through the air and smashing into the walls. Another powerful thrusting swing slammed into the left wall, with the whiplash falling Zell and rocketing Quistis in a twisted angle to the side. Irvine spat at the creature and produced his Bismarck. He was running low on Blitz shells, and he was greedily eyeing the Blitz's hide behind the Dealer. The tarantula creature stormed towards him, and he unleashed all four of his shells straight into the face of the creature. A bit of an overkill, the head had exploded on the first impact. The creature was so cut up that the last shell sailed straight through a coat of blood and smacked into the shoulder of the Blitz falling it into the rail. Selphie strode past him with blazing fury and swirled around in circles the Crescent Wish smacking the Blitz four times in the head, chest, legs, and the open wound on its shoulder. The creature was badly injured and in a precarious position-- primed just for Irvine's taking. A bark alerted him, though, and Angelo raced past him and pounced the creature knocking the Blitz straight down to the first floor and a nasty death on a protruding pike.

Irvine gasped. "Dammit, Angelo. I needed that guy's shells."

The dog indicated the creature's sword lodged in the poor SeeD's throat, and Irvine apologized to him and the dead SeeD as he pulled the weapon out and filtered out all the Blitz shells lining the shaft of the sword. A full stock of twenty shells, and he was happy.

Squall was not the only one sighing angrily, and Irvine was about to say something but more sounds of those nasty creatures sounded off. However, machine gun fire and the sounds of swords smacking against flesh was heard almost simultaneously. The Commander charged toward the mezzarina followed by the five of them, and they all saw Haydyn's crew get cut up by a combined force of at least forty Death Dealers and Blitzes. The Dolletians were clearly losing, and only five of the creatures were dead compared to almost a hundred of them.

"Ifrit, unleash Ifrit," Squall shouted.

"And our memories?!?" Zell asked.

"We'll maintain some shred of memory! Unleash him now!!"

The brawler did, and the creatures stopped for a second. The fire GF barrelled down and incinerated ten of them with the first blow. The Death Dealers attempted to claw him to death, and the Blitzes tried to electrify him but they were too weak. At least three-quarters perished, before the Dolletians were able to riddle the rest with bullets and sword slashes. Ifrit sighed at the end and disappeared, happy to be used once more.

The noise, though, had caused a new and more terrible roar to emanate within the devastated Garden. Devastated was probably too weak a word, so find one that you like best to describe it. The roar was ear-piercing and foul. All of them steered their gaze above to the third floor's atrium. The mezzarina Squall's company was on had a locked door that led to the third floor and the target conference room. Rinoa still had her key and with a nod from Squall she ran towards it, Angelo on her heels.

The source of the roar revealed itself, and the Guardian Force Cerberus plummeted down to the first floor. The Dolletians scrambled as fast as they could, but over half of the survivors perished in the landing. The three-headed dog was purplish-red in color with three massive heads and tails. A jagged energy-infused scar trailed on its back, and it had a voracious temper. The Dolletians routed as fast as they could, but several were chewed up in tiny bits and spat out in mangled pieces. It appeared that the god did not enjoy the taste of human flesh but enjoyed merely the sick pleasure of "playing" with its food.

The Commander was frozen for a second, but so was his small crew. Now, it was just only the six of them, and he had no means to call in for support. He then blinked and smacked himself in the face. He turned to Rinoa and saw that she had the door open. Turning to stunned faces on Quistis, Selphie, Irvine and Zell he said, "It's now or never, people! What do you think?"

"Now!" Zell shouted.

"Now!" Irvine agreed.

"Now!!" Quistis and Selphie shouted loudly in unison.

"OH-MY!!" came a deep and disturbing voice. Squall turned around and saw that the dog was speaking to them. "BALAMB SEEDS. MY MISTRESS WAS CORRECT!!"

_Mistress?_ "Sorceress Edea?" Squall askd Cerberus.

"THAT IS CORRECT LITTLE ONE. SHE HAS SAID THAT YOU ALL ARE QUITE STRONG. I FOR ONE HAPPEN TO AGREE TO THAT."

"Ew, Squall," Irvine said in his ear, "this is not a good thing."

"SILENCE, FORMER GALBADIAN SEED. LET ME SEE IF YOU CAN PASS MY TEST TO SEE HER, HEH, HEH."

The three-headed dog made a cackling bark that shook the very foundations of the walls around them, and crouched low seeming to conjure up a spell on the top of its heads. Indeed, for a purplish-green crystal formed and a sound of glass breaking splattered on the top of its center skull, followed by its right then its left. It was casting Triple magic on itself. Rinoa joined the others, and all six checked the status on their weapons and magic. It was just the six of them now, and they were getting tired.

Cerberus sighed and spewed nasty firaga magic three times out of each of its heads. The nine molten balls struck the mezzarina and destroyed it sending it down to the first floor. Selphie and Rinoa managed to flee the damage and rolled across to the second floor wall. Quistis was burned on her back, but she managed to survive and hang onto the tattered remnants of the second floor walkway. All three guys fell with the burnt chunks of the mezzarina and landed hard on the first floor. Angelo stayed out of sight, but his _Pet Pals_ teachings enabled him to find the right cures on his collar and he judged his own time to find cures for each of his six masters.

Cerberus chuckled and prowled menacingly and greedily in his bloody and destroyed demain. Eyeing the three unconscious men and the dangling woman on the second floor, the dog mulled over who would be the best target to kill first. Selphie was unconscious against the wall, and Rinoa was dazed a bit and was unsure of what was entering her arm when she finally spotted Angelo pressing a vial into her skin. She accepted the liquid and readied a dart at the same time, coating it with a special searing fire liquid from Angelo's collar.

"PITIFUL," Cerberus snorted, depressed. "SO CONFIDENT AND YET SO WEAK."

He decided to kill the three men first, but Rinoa stood up and fired the dart straight into the skull of the right head. Cerberus stopped in his charge, and his right head oozed black blood over the floor. The big dog bowed down and growled viciously. The right head was down for the count, for the dart had pierced straight through the brain and gouged the left eyeball. Cerberus rallied again after another spot-on hit from Rinoa's bowgun into the side of the damaged head's neck and fired off six more molten fireballs. Three of them were bad aim but singed the top part of the second floor wall sending fiery chunks splintering on top of her. The other three smacked against the broken railing of the mezzarina. Two of them singed close to her, and at least one of the balls curled up flames on her legs. Angelo was immediately on it. The blast against the mezzarina toppled Quistis down to the boys, and she landed on Zell waking the brawler up.

Cerberus growled at the new addition and charged. The brawler got to his senses quicker than he thought, and he somersaulted past the gnashing teeth and onto the creature's neck. The impact of the foot stomps woke up both Irvine and Squall, but they were still a bit dazed. The brawler immediately began to beat at the GF's neck, savagely ripping apart a deep wound. Cerberus howled in rage and tried vainly to pry the human off its body. Quistis hauled the two dazed boys up, saw she was getting nowhere, dropped them, and then plunged her bladed whip into the face of the left head. The GF howled some more, and his lunging reaction shook Zell off and into the path of the dog's lumbering feet. The brawler did circus moves to escape being crushed to death, until the tail picked him up and flung him into a wall where he became unconscious again.

Selphie murmured a bit, and Angelo and Rinoa forced her to wake up. She did and gave the raven-haired girl the Shiva gem. About to use a GF for the first time, Rinoa closed her eyes and felt that sensational force spread through her body. Cerberus recognized it, too, snarled, and wrenched his head free from Quistis's whip. The former instructor was sent flying along with a prized eyeball from the bloody socket of Cerberus's skull. The dog was livid now, but the Ice Princess was in front of him. The two GFs stared at each other before attacking fiercely. Shiva cut his body deep with three ice blades, and his center head bit hard on her abdomen. His black blood cauterized within the rooms, and great poisonous infections penetrated his bloodstream. His ferocious bite cleaved her constitution, and she stumbled drunkenly to one knee and felt her life force draining. Neither one of them could die, and they knew it but they were just like humans-- always wanting to be the more dominant than the other. Squall awoke fully, saw the spectacle of Cerberus winning hands down and brought out Quetzacotyl. If this dog could survive two GFs, he would eat his jacket.

The three-headed monster was even more perturbed when the thunder bird showed up, creating a massive charred hole in the atrium. From its beak, the bird shot a thunderbolt that fried Cerberus's central head blinding both eyes and knocking out the front row of teeth. Cerberus released his grip, and a choking and bloody Shiva disappeared in a cloud of ice dust. Quetzacotyl flapped its powerful wings and barrelled into the wounded beast; the smacking sound of their bodies whiplashed throughout the atrium and temporarily deafened them. The dog's teeth were still gnashing, and it bit once in the neck and brought down the bird with his clawed arm and increased the bite. Squall stood along with Irvine and each loaded their chambers. Raising simultaneously, a Twin Lance bullet and a Blitz shell smacked into the neck of the three-headed GF, leaving it hanging by a hair's breadth. Quistis whirled her bladed whip around and severed the last connected piece of flesh and watched the head disengage from Quetzacotyl and flop uselessly to the ground. The thunder bird limped steadily away and disappeared in a cloud of feathers.

The headless body pulsed a few minutes, releasing sporadic jolts of blood from the open smelly wound before finally stilling itself. The head, though, was still very much alive, however, the GF seemed to be rather taken aback. Zell was awake again, but delerious, and Selphie and Rinoa were looking over the edge with Angelo tending to their wounds.

"DAMN YOU, FOUL HUMANS! FIGHTING GFS WITH GFS! HOW COULD YOU?"

"Enough is enough, Cerberus," Squall said a little unsteadily. He supported his tilting frame with the gunblade and tried to remain calm. "We've stalled long enough."

"OH YES, YOU HAVE!" The decapitated beast slowly reformed back into its original disgusting scope, and the transformation was a sickening sight to watch. Tentacles within the bloody, porous hole slithered out and wrapped around and into the bloody, porous hole of his skulls. They slowly pulled it back to the wretched body, and suction sounds curled and conjoined together. The legs lifted the body up, and he spilled out more black blood and sighed a hearty barking sigh before defiantly looking at them all again.

"Give us a break, already!" Zell shrieked.

"Yes," Squall said, not bothering to refute him, "please do."

"PSH. SIMPLE-MINDED HUMANS. OF COURSE I AM. ALTHOUGH, IF YOU PERMIT ME TO JOIN YOU, I WOULD BE MOST SATISFIED."

Squall looked around and found no dissenters. "Of course."

"GOOD. NOW, TAKE THIS ELEVATOR IN THE BACK HERE. A MUCH QUICKER WAY TO MEET HER HIGHNESS."

The GF sighed inwardly and dissolved in a thick mesh of black blood that slithered out into an open drain in the bottom of the floor that his big body had produced from all the stomping around. A large opal gem sat in the middle of the floor, glistening admist the copious blood, and Squall plugged his nose to reach it and secure it in his pocket. The dog's essence immediately sucked at his heart, and he wondered then why they used these GF gems when the consequences to their mental and physical health would be so compromised.

Selphie and Rinoa followed Angelo down the length of the mezzarina to a dilapidated structure that was able to lead them down to ground level. Everybody was sighing and nauseated, and there was still the Sorceress to fight. And that bastard Seifer.

They could see the elevator now, unblocked and open for delivery. The Garden was now more deathly quiet than it was an hour ago. More people were dead, and more grief was sticking them. Squall pushed it aside as best he could and turned to them all. "We've gone this far....now...no time to give up... now."

"Damn right, Squall," Zell said patting him on the back. "I'm with you all the way."

"What do you think Raijin meant with Seifer?" Selphie asked.

Squall looked at her but couldn't find a ready response. He merely just shook his head. "Whatever it is, we'll take care of it. Seifer's a pushover."

Everybody murmured in the affirmative, but he caught a somewhat icy stare from Rinoa.

"Anybody have any last wishes before we go?" Squall asked.

"Nothing except," Irvine said, "to always remember where we came from. Always remember where we came from."

"Amen to that, cowboy," Quistis said.

"Damn," he joked, "where you gettin all saucy, Quistis?"

"Any humor is good at this point," she laughed.

They all laughed a bit, and then took a strong collective sigh.

"Let's do this," Zell said putting his hand out. Each of them put their hands out over each other in a tight circle.

"Let's do this," Squall confirmed, and they immediately headed for the elevator with Angelo in tow.

* * *

At the elevator's gate, the presence of the succubus energy smacked them hard. Steeling themselves, they hopped on and worked the machine to life. As the first floor became the second, the presence got stronger. When the doors opened on the third, they were quaking. The energy was intense beyond measure, and it took all their strength to enter the small hallway. There was no light save for one small candle burning profusely but with no wax. A strange sight. They prodded their way down, and their ears picked up on chanting. That old familiar sorceress chant that plagued the country of Esthar when Adel roamed the earth.

_Fithos....Lusec....Wecos....Vinosec_

The faint feminine chorus of longago yesteryear when men were hunted like wild animals by the bestial spawn of the succubi overlords. With each step closer to the doorway at the end of the hall, the sounds of the chants continued in their haunting pitch unabated and unperturbed. The energy was so strong that their legs felt like iron pipes. With each step, the door seemed to get farther and farther away. They wimpered and groaned to assail it, and they almost gave up before they realized they had arrived.

The song ended, the energy ceased, and Squall's hand was on the knob. He inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly and painfully. His heart was in his throat and each turn of the knob accelerated the beating inside his neck. He thrust the door open.

* * *

The conference hall was enormous and overarching, quite easily the largest room in the Garden. Shaped like a bowl, hundreds of seats and tables fanned against the walls on both the left and the right side. The room was almost a two-story frame for a giant narrow strip of walkway connected their platform to a ring around the hall that made access to the fanning seats as well as connect them to the center platform. Below all this was the lower floor where the lesser dignitaries sat. This floor descended sharply by roughly nine meters, and one did not want to fall off the walkway unless he or she wanted a nasty spill. A strange design, but the Galbadians were never quite hospitable to foreign dignitaries. The room was quite different anyway with numerous succubus decorations and sweet scents dotting every nook and cranny. The seats were still there but draped in green, yellow, and purple colors to designate the main succulent colors of the Sorceress. Atop the central platform was the Sorceress herself, calmly filing her nails, her face hidden behind a grotesque red mask that beheld a pained expression nauseous and disturbing. She was either aware or ignorant of their presence.

The mood beguiled all six of them and for a while they could not do anything. Squall, for one, recognized Edea once again like he had done at Deling City. A stunned panic mixed with the feeling of want and desire overcame him then as it did now. Yet, now he knew the truth, and it was the only thing that now kept him sane. His eyes darted briefly to his gang, and he could tell they were thinking the same thing.

The conference hall, despite the presence of sorceress paraphenalia, garnered a blueish hue. It suddenly turned bright red, and all six of them freaked out.

"My, my, my."

Their faces darted around. The sound. The voice. Where was that bastard at?

Nothing came into view, until the sound of a doorway opened above them. They craned their necks but could not see anything. Footsteps sounded to their right, and they waited. Slowly the top of his blonde head came into view, followed by the face and the trenchcoat and Hyperion.

"My, my, my."

"Give it up, you fuck, it's over!!" Zell cursed ahead of schedule.

"Mmmm...." Seifer mused. He kept on walking, obviously uninterested. He also seemed to be glowing, and that was the first thing that bothered them. "Oh, you guys are really naughty, you know that? Really, really naughty. Coming in here, _barging_ I should say, and causing a big fucking stink."

Squall could see Zell growing more and more infuriated, and he was even surprised that Selphie and Quistis were growing that way, too. He knew how he felt, but something told him this time that a joint effort would be needed to dispose of Seifer Almasy. The blond gunblader was at the end of his walkway. He beheld his lovely Sorceress, who seemed to be not paying any attention to what was going on, and then hurled himself in a somersault to a perfect landing on the narrow walkway.

He twirled his gunblade and slowly walked toward the group of six. "You and I have sure made quite a mess of things around here, haven't we Squall?"

"Their deaths did not go to vain."

"Ah, maybe so, maybe so. You and I don't really know that, though. It could be that all of those people died for absolutely nothing at all. Absolutely nothing at all."

"I don't believe that."

"That's evident. Too much so-called honor in you. Too much self-esteem and all that bullshit." He chuckled a bit. "Did you really come here to fight Matron? After all she has done for each of us? Sharing in all our memories, teaching all of our tricks, saving us from the onslaught of both the Estharians and the Galbadians."

"Seifer," Irvine said, pointing a finger at him, "she's using _you_!"

"Not exactly, cowboy, and by the way I got an incredible beef with you. Sticking your fucking nose in businesses where it does not belong."

"Cannot afford to have childhood friends suffer and die like that."

"How fucking noble.... and _sick_ening at the same time!" He was halfway to them at the moment.

Irvine snarled, and Zell and Selphie joined him. Quistis folded her arms. "Seifer, you are in very grave danger of befalling yourself to total hopelessness."

"What do you mean, my beautiful instructor?" he answered with a snicker.

"If you only repent right here, we won't give you to the state to be hanged for your crimes against humanity!!" She let it out with a curl in her throat.

Seifer stopped within a quarter of the distance between them. "Only repent, eh?" He let out a blood-curdling laugh. "_Only....repent_." He snickered again and shook his head. "Heh, heh, you never fail to impress me instructor with your insane psycho-babble. Your delerious pile-of-shit accusations!"

The rage inside her boiled up, and it was all she could do to quell herself.

Seifer gazed at all of them individually and delighted himself in conjuring up special ways to slice their bodies to ribbons. His eyes, though, caught the sight of that familiar wretched dog and his master. He widened his eyes. "Rinoa, Rinoa what the fuck are you doing here?"

She pursed her lips.

"Ah, now, don't be telling me you're about to throw your life away now. How inconsiderate of you! Remember all those fun times we had last year? Huh? Down on the beaches of Winhill, eh?"

"Stop it!!" she screamed uncontrollably.

"Oh, shit, struck a nerve, heh, heh."

Squall tilted his gunblade at a different angle. "Enough of the bullshit, Seifer, get out of the way."

"For what?"

"For the redemption of Edea!"

The Sorceress seemed to stir in her sanctuary, and Seifer seemed to glow brighter. "The redemption of Edea, eh?" he repeated in a dark and dreary tone. The six of them looked at their peer with fright, as he continued to glow ever brighter. For a minute, they noticed that he was changing. A lighter side of him shown through, the old content Seifer beamed through for a moment of seriousness. "Sure, you can Squall. I have faith in you, but now, though, now things are different between you and me." The old self diminished and what was left a white-skinned corpse-like version of death that none of them had ever seen before.

"SQUALL LEONHART!!!" Seifer screamed in almost agony. "I AM THE SORCERESS'S KNIGHT!!!" A blue halo formed around him and snapped his hand out. A shockwave force slammed into Squall's chest, caught the other five on their sides and ripped them into the air binding them in a strange gravity spell twisting their bodies in weird contorted ways. They heard his voice again from down below, yet it sounded as if he was talking right in their ears. "Now... bow down before your daddy..." They saw him leap, and his Hyperion blade slashed through their gravity ball and cut their bodies into scrapes and gashes and sending them hurling back to the platform. Angelo was swept up in the cacophany and plunged down to the lower floor, breaking a leg in the process. The six of them fell to the platform and lost their breath for a minute.

Seifer lunged then and grabbed Squall's coat. "Never mess with a demon, Squall!" Seifer cackled, headbutted the Commander into a wall and then slashed with his gunblade. The Hyperion now was decked out in a spectral succubus glaze. The sharpened blade was no longer prevalent, but an energy field was there. When the field swiped across Squall's chest, it did not kill him but drained an enormous amount of strength and spirit from him and sailed him into a seat on the far end of the hall. Squall lay crumpled against the chairs, and he coughed up green mucus from the energy field. His vision swayed in and out of clearness, and he wondered if he was dying.

Seifer stared crazy-eyed at the five remaining stupefyed Balambians. He eyed Zell first. "It's your turn, now, motherfucker!"

He cleaved down vertically, and Zell went to block the blade. The blade went straight through, and Zell felt the same thing Squall felt. He coughed up mucus onto Seifer's coat and vainly tried to kick Seifer's feet away. Seifer swung around and into Selphie and Quistis's head, getting the same results. The two girls blacked out for a minute, and Seifer came back around for another blow. Irvine brandished a variety of curses and unleashed a full clip from both of his pistols. The bullets penetrated Seifer's stomach and legs and flew him back against the walkway. Irvine got up to finish the job, but he was horrified to find the bullets slowly snaking out of his skin.

"So sad, cowboy. I can't be brought down that easily! I thought I was part of your orphanage gang, too!"

"You're a monster now," Irvine said weakly.

"A monster? Fuck! YOU ARE THE MONSTER!!" He angrily swung Hyperion around in a circle and a gigantic thunderbolt scorched out of his body and zapped Irvine straight in the chest, stopping his heart for a second and smacking down the narrow hallway and into the elevator.

"No! Stop, Seifer!!" Rinoa yelled, standing directly in front of him. Quistis, Selphie, and Zell slowly and groggily attempted to get up, but their nausea confounded them to stay put.

Seifer stared at his former girlfriend with disgust.

"Seifer, please," she pleaded, her hair falling into her eyes. "This isn't like you!! None of this shit you would ever do!! NONE of it!!"

"You're always so so sweet, little girl," he sneered at her. "So simple-minded and hearty to everyone you meet."

"_You_ used to like it!" she snapped, her pleading turning to anger. "You used to always come to Timber when you weren't supposed to. You always used to--"

"Stop right there, princess!" he demanded coming forward and grabbing her dress. He lifted her off the ground, and his grip tightened and caused her great discomfort. A look of panic formed in her eyes, and she was powerless to even aim her Shooting Star into his stomach. "The key word in your whole conniption is _used to_."

"This isn't a conniption, Seifer," she said nervously. "This is your sanity."

"_I_ am the most sane one here, Rinoa."

His grip tightened more, and she felt her breath disappearing. He was strangling her to death. Her eyes started to roll back in her sockets, and she felt that inebriation of death slowly consuming her soul. "It'll all be over soon, my lovely beautiful princess."

An intense heat sliced into his back, and he yelled and dropped the girl. The blade had penetrated deep, and a bit of blood splashed out onto the walkway. He turned slightly in time to see Squall's fist slam into his chin. He fell in a twirl into one of the dignitary seats. Squall, pissed now beyond belief, somersaulted off the walkway and both gunblades met each other. Within the seats, they traded blows and Squall penetrated harder and faster backing Seifer further and further down the walkway. It was a vast room, and the sounds of their swords echoed fiercely and exuberantly. Squall whirled around and kicked Seifer hard in the chin knocking out a tooth and a gush of blood. The sword followed and stabbed Seifer's body across the chest, slamming him into some chairs. A wild rage of passion surged through him and he stabbed repeatedly at the prostrate Seifer. The Knight deflected as many blows as he could while getting stabbed twice. Anger flowed through him, as well, as the succubus energy began to wane from his grasp. More and more blood was flowing from his body. In a fit of rage, he deflected sharply Squall's blow thrusting the Commander off-balance and then sent a shocking firebolt into Squall's chest. The SeeD fell backwards into the wall and blacked out for an instant.

Seifer slowly stood up and gave a pleading look to Edea to give him more succubus energy. He wasn't totally free of it, but it was significantly weakened. The Sorceress still was not paying too much attention. She indeed looked quite bored. Hurried footsteps caught his ears and he turned to see Rinoa jam out the hidden dagger from her bowgun and plunge it straight into his chest. He felt a large weight smack him hard on the impact, but he stood his ground. She had a wild look of fury in her eyes, like a lioness mad as hell over the danger of her cubs, and she slowly twisted the blade in him. He felt a sickening pain overcome him, but he managed to hold on. "What's wrong, Rinny, you love that little cocksucker so much?"

She stopped turning the blade and looked pained herself. "What if I do?"

"Then you're easy to off," he grinned wickedly, pushing her off of him and frying her body with a fire spell. She screamed out loud and fell over several chairs, her skin burning profusely from the spell. Seifer, through his energy, pulled the blade out and came face-to-face with her dog. Limping, Angelo guarded her stunned and whimpering form and growled as viciously as he could. Seifer twirled both his Hyperion and Rinoa's blade around, looking ready to slice and dice his former love into a nice, saucy stew when a barrage of bullets and magicka blew him backwards. Irvine and Selphie stumbled as fast as they could across the chair-strewn walkway firing as hard as they could. Seifer sailed Rinoa's blade into Irvine's shoulder, falling the cowboy, and swiped Hyperion through Selphie's body. She stumbled but maintained her composure. Another fire spell released itself from Seifer's palm and blew her into a table, spilling a gush of her blood. Quistis jumped over several tables and whipped her bladed weapon into his back and twarked him at a weird angle. Zell leaped past her and whaled on the Knight with brutal kicks and punches. Seifer spun around, flicked the blade out of his back, and slashed at the brawler falling him. Quistis rushed in to punch him in the face, but he ducked and kicked her in the stomach. Irvine pulled out the knife, produced his shotgun, and fired into Seifer's gut. The shotgun shell broke a sizeable chunk of his succubus shield off, and he fired a fiery spell in return singing Irvine's chest and dropping his gun. Squall recovered and jumped up to their level, slashing at Seifer's back one more time. The shield disrupted again, and Seifer kneeled hard and received a kick in the stomach from Squall. Zell and Selphie jumped up to aid Squall and it was three-on-one. Seifer became enraged and lunged out, connecting first with Selphie then with Zell but missing Squall. Squall ducked again, slashed the Knight's stomach, swung the Hyperion blade out of the way, and then fired a Twin Lance bullet straight into Seifer's stomach. The bullet penetrated through the shield entirely and hit gold in his bloodstream. Seifer Almasy vomited blood and slumped down to the ground, trickles of red streaming out of his nostrils, right ear, and left eye.

Squall kept the gunblade levelled at him, triggered again to ring out, and the other five looked at him in shock. Seifer was on the verge of death. For a long gruesome minute, nothing was said and the only sounds were each of their raspy breaths.

"Pah!" came a loud voice.

Edea.

Slowly, all of them looked towards her. She reclined in her chair as peacefully as if at a resort. The hideous red mask lit up and melted away, revealing the beautiful creamy face that they all knew so well. The green eyes, deliciously bright; the smooth lips, fullest to the full; the high cheekbones; filled with desire. Her petite and curvy body was welcome and voluptous. She was truly a deadly piece of work. "Worthless child."

Seifer hiccupped and splashed blood on his shirt. Squall brought down his weapon from the Knight's face and turned full attention to Edea. He walked onto the narrow walkway, the Twin Lance steady at his side. He was now a mess of a look with burnt skin and bloody limbs. Blood was even starting to float in his eyes. The others joined him, but Rinoa kept a steady position back behind them. She did not feel good at all; something was happening to her, a dizzy and lighthearted feeling was eclipsing inside her head. Seifer remained where he was, partly because Angelo was still growling at him but partly because he was close to death.

_Fithos....Lusec....Wecos....Vinosec_

The chants started again, as she slowly walked out of her confined quarters. Her grace was elegant as it always was, but a menacing stature accompanied her. It seemed as if the light dimmed as she drew near. She walked towards her five warriors whom she personally knew so well. The faint girl with the dog was also of interest to her, and she kept a close eye on her at all times.

She loosened the enormous headdress that beseiged her back and dropped it to the floor with a clang. Her long brown hair was pulled into a bun, but she slowly unfastened it and let it drape across her chest. She came within five feet of them and stopped. The chantings became deeper and deeper, and the red light encircling the conference hall became dimmer and bloodier almost as if it could choke them itself.

"So...." her lips parted to say. The voice of Matron was absent. A nasty guttural voice echoed from the lips and contorted her face in a disgusting visage of hellish proportions. "So... the time has come. _You_ are the legendary SeeD destined to face me?"

_What?_ He looked quickly at his friends to see if he had heard them right. They looked just as confused as him.

"I am impressed." She tilted her head to the side and studied Squall first and then the others. "Quite.... impressed."

Squall's muscles went taut.

"An impressive nuisance, though," she snorted with much disgust. "Your life ends here, SeeD."

That did it. Squall twirled his gunblade around in a circle, and his friends followed his lead. "No, Edea. Your life as a Sorceress shall end. _We_ will bring you back!!"

Zell led the way with the others in garnering a second applause.

The Sorceress widened her eyes slowly and then formed a small grin.

A nasty laugh occurred to their right, and they all looked to see Seifer attempting to stand up. The six of them reeled in shock. Angelo even backed away. "There's....no...way...you can...beat...her...Squall....heh heh...no way."

Squall gritted his teeth at him and turned back to Edea. "You're not our Matron! But we will bring you back!!"

The Sorceress laughed wickedly. "All SeeDs will perish." Point in case, a dark blue shield arose around her followed by a swift movement of her hands. Squall blocked the power with the broad length of his dual-edged sword, but the others weren't as lucky. Squall himself reeled from the blast, but the others fell backwards. The Commander charged her and swiped at her shield. The blade attacks were useless, but they were enough to stumble her back a bit. He charged up a lightning bolt and incinerated it through the shield knocking her right arm. She cursed out in pain and fired a bolt back. Lightning was immune to him, so he continued to charge with harder thrusts-- the shield couldn't hold forever. Seifer spat up blood and yelled, catching Squall off-guard. The badly wounded Knight charged into Squall and knocked him over the walkway, and both sailed down to the lower floor. Squall landed into the seats, and Seifer landed on his stomach opening up more of his wounds.

Edea laughed and turned her attention to the recovering five. Angelo barked to get her attention and then charged, despite having a bad leg. Rinoa screamed out in horror, but the spunky dog lowered his head and rocketed like a cannon into her shield, penetrating it and breaking it apart. His muzzle even managed to nip her in the chest a bit. The Sorceress stumbled a bit, and Angelo reared back for another charge. Rinoa fired a dart in Edea's exposed frame, and Selphie swung her Crescent Wish around to the succubus's head. Edea reeled from both hits and pulled out Rinoa's dart with much disgust before smacking Selphie off her feet with a blizzaga spell.

Down below, Squall eyed Seifer warily as the Knight inserted some needle into his neck. "What is that?" he asked. Seifer made a pained expression as all the juice flowed through his bloodstream. "I have lost Edea's power now. You're bullet wound you gave me.... it's ...it's affecting my capability to stay alive." He dropped the needle. "I...must now... resort to the usual medicine to survive." He clumsily got up with a wild and highly dangerous look in his eye. The sounds of his friends fighting Edea echoed above them, and Squall grew intense. "Seifer, please come to your senses. You know as well as I do--" "--Oh, Squall! Go and fuck yourself!!" The Knight charged him, and they fought once more. He swept Hyperion down for a low slash, and Squall hopped over it and punched him in the face. Seifer whirled back into some more chairs and tables but held his ground. Squall swung the Twin Lance at Seifer's head, but he blocked it and parried a second thrust in the midsection. Seifer lunged the Commander off of him and attacked wildly, this time sending Squall back in retreat. The wall was coming up close, and Seifer was whirling and spinning with his blade and not allowing any range of free room. One opening came up, and Squall took advantage; he kicked Seifer in the stomach and then somersaulted off the wall to the upper floor. Seifer steeled himself and followed suit, landing haphazardly beside Squall. They continued the fight, just as Edea became more dangerous.

Zell had landed a punch that jarred her back into her quarters, followed swiftly by rapid fire magic from both Quistis and Selphie, along with some darts from Rinoa and a shotgun shell from Irvine. The succubus energy teaming through her was waning just like it did for Seifer, and the five friends could see they were gaining ground. Yet, Edea surprised them some more. Her hands stopped their attacks by singing each of their fingers making them drop their weapons. A maelstrom cloud of gravity and poison then formed over her head. The friends watched stupidly in awe, as the cloud grew larger and brighter. She swirled sweepingly with her arms and then hurled it at them, watching it consume into their bodies. The gravity force flung them to the ground, and the poison constricted their movements. They immediately retched again, but an iresome temper erupted in the guys. Irvine quickly grabbed his shotgun and fired at her. She sidestepped it and took to the air, hovering over her quarters and laughing at the top of her lungs. As good a sharpshooter as he was, he could not pin her down. He expelled all eight rounds without even hitting her cloth. She fired a thundaga spell at him and lifted him up off the ground in a flurry of sparks.

Rinoa was having problems. A strong surge of force was tightening her stomach, and she wanted to heave, but she couldn't do it. Her anger was increasing, as she could tell Edea was doing something to her. Her focus was shifted, though, to Squall and Seifer who were trading monstrous blows against each other on the outer leftmost wall. The two gunbladers fought hard and heavy. Squall spun out of the way of a thrust and slashed open further Seifer's back. The Knight stumbled to the ground, and Squall cleaved down low for a bitter strike. Seifer deflected the blow and knocked a chair into Squall's feet dumping the Commander to the floor. The Knight stood up very drunkenly and sprayed a firebolt into Squall's neck and chest. The smell of burnt flesh reached even Rinoa, and she cursed and stood up, firing a dart into Seifer's exposed back. The Knight cursed at her, dodged two more of her darts and fired a bolt straight to her right side. The impact kneeled her, and she felt an intense buzzing sound afflict her. Seifer cackled wildly and thrust his boot into Squall's burnt and bloody chest, sending him sickly careening across the floor.

Edea hovered viciously above the conference room, and nobody could reach her. Summoning telekinetic powers, she unhooked several tables mounted to the floors and sailed them straight at the SeeDs. One table mast bashed Zell in the face and broke his jaw and collarbone. Another table narrowly decapitated Selphie, had she not ducked in time. Quistis blew up a table missile with a bolt of fire, leapt off a railing and flung her Slaying Tail up to Edea's left foot. The bladed whip embedded into her ankle and stopped a flying chair inbound for Irvine's prostrate form. Quistis was forced to flick out her whip, having lost balance, but a great deal of Edea's blood poured out. The Sorceress stumbled in her flight, her powers waning fast. Light was beginning to show in patches on her skin.

Seifer slashed his sword at tables and chairs for the fun of it, slowly advancing toward Squall, both of their blood staining the floor. Squall could feel his own life leaving him from his loss of blood, but there was still work to do. He worked up some copper taint in his mouth and spat the shit into Seifer's face. He hauled himself up terrifically and parried the blades at his midsection. He lunged Seifer off him and slashed high then low. Hyperion dangled momentarily to the side, and Squall kicked out Seifer's leg from under him. The Knight spun around, and Squall sliced his blade across Seifer's chest. The blond gunblader guzzled up blood, and Squall pushed him away. The Knight stumbled and could barely make out a curse before falling hard on his stomach and seeming to expire.

Edea cursed loudly from her position up high, and everybody looked at Squall. The Commander cocked his gunblade and fired at the Sorceress. She ducked it narrowly, but the bullet blasted apart the ceiling beside her and toppled her closer to the floor. Zell and Selphie pummeled magic of all types into her, Irvine managed a lucky shot in her stomach with his shotgun, and Quistis curled the whip around her waist and plunged her down to her quarters, smashing part of it to pieces. Angered and severely weakened, she unleashed a torrent of energy from her body knocking both Selphie and Zell down to the lower floor and falling Quistis against the sharp end of the rail. Part of the former instructor's side lay bloodied on the end of the rail and she painfully oozed herself off it. Angelo braved the ire of Edea, as the Sorceress lunged out to attack Irvine and Squall, and immediately went for Quistis with as much aid as he could provide. The Commander and the cowboy were bashed by Edea's energy as she lunged at them. Irvine crumpled against a table, but Squall held on and sliced open her back. She blasted him with energy and a firaga spell. More burnt flesh consumed him, but he uppercutted her and revealed more of her light. For a minute, he wondered if he had seen the real Edea highlighted in a ghostly form admist the pall of the disgusting succubus inhabiting her body. Blood was coating his pupils, and he was becoming delirious. Yet, now he was embued with a special aura. An aura of his own making. His Renzokuken training was now firmly in his grasp. With all his might, he kicked Edea away from him to garner distance. Then his eyes closed, and he remembered. Swiftly, he spread his body into a T shape, and his gunblade glowed. A powerful force of energy erupted off him and blasted a hole in the top of the Garden reaching out into the highest sky. He raised the Twin Lance up to the heavens, and the blade became saturated in the glow. Possibly the great god Eden's glow imbued itself upon the blade and showered Squall Leonhart in all his glory. The most powerful attack he had at the moment: the Blasting Zone. The Sorceress looked at him warily, and only at the last moment did she attempt to escape, yet she was too late. Squall brought the heavy power down, and the blade's energy sliced her down the middle, sliced the horrid stench of her succubus visage straight down the middle. A cacophany of sound penetrated the barriers around them, and massive chunks of Galbadia Garden caved inward and outward. The attack was so devastating, his friends tried desperately to get out of the way, but all of them were hit by some sort of debris. Quistis and Angelo huddled painfully together under a table. Selphie and Zell stayed under the walkway and prayed it would hold. Irvine fell back to the entrance. Only Rinoa seemed able to withstand the impact. The Blasting Zone cut its way through, and everything drowned into a vacuum of whiteness.

* * *

He was on his back and in great pain. Sounds were morphed and vague. Colors blended together and stretched out in abstract visions. It looked like the conference room still, except there was a lot more damage. He shook his head twice to gain some ground around him. That helped a little, but not much.

He turned his head to the left and saw Seifer still lying face down.

_Seifer..._ Squall asked himself. He couldn't see the others. There was a murky whiteness covering everything, like a fog. There was extensive damage everywhere. He had not perfected that Limit Break so well in his training.

_Oh fuck....did I kill everyone?_

He instantly panicked.

_NO! No, I didn't. I didn't._

He tried to get up, but he was in great pain. Yet, he had to. He just had to. There was a flimsy railing in front of him, and he grabbed it, gritted his teeth and hauled himself up. He heard a bone crunch somewhere inside him, and he cursed hard and cried.

_Oh my...fucking god._

Was he dead, too?

_Nah...I don't think in death you feel pain._

He turned back to Seifer and was surprised to see Rinoa kneeling beside him. He stopped. She was looking all funny and strange. Her face was twisted in an unrecognizable form. Her eyes were glowing bright green.

Something was happening to Seifer. He was breathing weird and doing rapping motions with his knuckles. Rinoa grabbed him and flipped him onto his back and then bent down to speak in his ear.

_What are you doing?_

For a long time they lay like that, until Seifer got up. Yes... got up! She remained kneeling, extending her hand out as if she wanted to say something. She was almost pleading for something.

Seifer only stood. Not a sound was emanating around them. Everything was deathly still. Suddenly, Squall heard him sigh. His mouth appeared to say something. At least two words, but Squall couldn't tell what he said. The Knight slowly walked away, appearing as healthy as he looked before the fight began. His face was shrouded in grayness, and he did not even look at the devastation that had been created. He merely walked away and out of sight. Squall wanted to follow him, but his gaze remained on Rinoa. She remained kneeling and pleadingly extending her hand.

_Go to her, damn you!!_ he yelled at himself. But he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Then, without warning, the whiteness lifted, and she fell hard on her face and did not move again.

The devastation came into view, and Squall saw Quistis and Irvine on the main floor. Selphie was pulling Zell up to meet them. Everybody looked like shit.

A soft feminine voice broke the nasty silence.

Within the damaged quarters rose the muffled and bloody heap of Edea Kramer. Matron. The greeness of her eyes were dim and dull. Her hair was a mess, and her creamy skin was flushed and burnt. Her voice was raspy, but still soft and very sad. She looked quite distraught, but her eyes met those of the five people she knew so well. She started to cry.

"Squall...." she said, looking straight at him and remembering the day she found him in the orphanage attack.

"Matron?" the Commander asked.

"Ma---tron..." Zell asked, queasily almost falling out of Selphie's embrace. The spunky SeeD looked in shock at her, too.

"Zell....Selphie..." Edea cried. She remembered the silly boy who always used to get fired up at the littlest things. She didn't remember the tattoo, but she figured it was a good addition to his personality. Oh, she remembered Selphie. The sweet little girl that could be quite exuberant sometimes.

Irvine started to get up, but his flesh wounds were too grim. "Matron," he said cooly.

"Irvine..." Edea smiled. The littlest cowboy. Ah, how she admired his generosity and compassion. She found Quistis next to a handsome dog. "Oh, Quisty, you're always pushing yourself too hard," she cried taking note of her extensive wound.

"Matron..." Quistis choked.

Edea slowly got up and ignored her wounds as best she could. "I.... still...have a little power left. Let me help you all..."

"A.... little bit of power?" Quistis asked.

Edea shushed her and knelt beside her. Her fingers touched her side, and Quistis felt a warm soothing force coarse through her body, and her wound swiftly closed up. "You might feel a little nauseous," Edea said gently.

"Ah! I feel loads better."

"I'm so proud of all of you," Edea smiled, her face teeming with tears, as she moved to Zell and Selphie. "I have waited for this day to come. I've... feared that this day would come, too." Zell's body splintered with the magic, and his wounds closed up as swiftly as Quistis's. "My dear Squall, you are much stronger than I ever imagined."

Squall could only breathe and not respond. He didn't think it was that powerful.

As she was healing Selphie, she suddenly stopped, "Where is Ellone?!? Have I protected Ellone!"

"Ello-- I don't understand," Squall asked. Edea looked to the others, but they also responded with confusion. She then looked a little depressed and then saw Rinoa lying face down on the floor. "Oh no," she said in a truly worried voice.

"What?" said all five at once.

Quistis moved over to her, and held Rinoa's body. "Great Eden! She's as cold as ice. There's a pulse, but it's so faint!!"

Squall, despite the extent of his massive injuries, groaned his way over to her. He opened more wounds than he cared to know, but he couldn't stand it. He reached Rinoa and felt her face and neck and arms. She was so cold, so lifeless.

_No. No, no, no._ He said it over and over, until it was practically the only word he knew.

Time froze....

And everything in it.

* * *

Headmaster Cid Kramer knew how much of a coward he had acted today. He knew how much he was going to be dissed and disrespected for not being there on the ship when all six thousand of his men and women lost their lives.

Yet, he knew from day one that this would happen. He had trained them to die.

He had also trained them to fight for the ones they had loved and for the ones that they would eventually love.

So, in that light, he knew he had done the right thing. He had stayed in the orphanage's garden the entire time, quietly sneaking out when the first naval offensive had begun. Everyone was so distracted, and Squall had performed expertly well.

When Galbadia Garden caved in two from Squall's Renzokuken, he knew the SeeDs had won.

He knew she had been saved.

But at what cost he did not know.

Hopefully, he prayed, hopefully the cycle had finally been broken.

* * *

**A/N:** Well how about that... Disk Two finally down.


	26. The Implacable Void

**Author's Note:** Welcome my friends to Part III of the epic tale. Thank you for reading so far and I thank everyone for responding with great fervor in some emails and reviews. Very generous indeed.

**Disclaimer**: Obligatory-- SquareEnix still owns Final Fantasy VIII (which means they need to remake the game on a better engine, but of course they won't do that). For this chapter-- "Angels of War", a despondent war poem from Crimson Glory. This is by the way Squall's signature theme. This is the Ballad.

THE IMPLACABLE VOID

_Extra, extra! Read all about it!!_

**GALBADIAN GAZETTE**

A joyous occasion and a malicious detriment. Hundreds of thousands of Galbadian citizens roam the streets in celebration within the capital, Galbadia City, and its seven surrounding boroughs: Chomsky, Zinn, Felters, Dynaheir, Tolsom, Finch and Kelso. Hundreds of signs and plaques literally dot the sea of bodies proclaiming their profound enjoyment at the death of Sorceress Edea and the collapse of the Galbadian Army. Indeed, massive celebrations and splendor in this city of two million people, and businesses have been forced to close down for pity's sake.

The elite in the Bingham district have been careful to not show their faces out in public today, on account of their massive financial support for the SeeD army which has been reduced to a fifth of its unit. The Galbadian Army, as well, has been reduced to two-fifths of its unit and have routed to nearby settlements on the northern Centran continent far and away from the disastrous and bloody plains of Lighthouse Pointe.

Preparations for battle had been taken heartilly within the now thoroughly destroyed Garden fortress, but against numerous popular referendums the Army was forced to train on the outermost boundaries of the lightly sympathetic Zinn borough. With the revolutions in nearby Deling City and exasperated tensions in Timber, the celebrations have the potential for being cut short as the Deling Guard prepares to usurp command of the remnant Galbadian army and reestablish a much smaller version of the Westonian Protectorate abandoned by now-deceased General Rafeal Carroway.

Hard times ahead for Galbadia City.

**DELING TRIBUNE**

The petulant fiasco dogging the Galbadians must surely be a plight for their elite. The mischievous antics of the Galbadian populace has no doubt been spurred on by the Balambians and their insipid Commander, Mr. Squall Leonhart. However, this provides the perfect and ample opportunity for the Deling Guard to expand its boundaries. Already the five million people occupying this city have forgotten about the Sorceress and her first assassination attempt in the City Square.

Congratulations to Mr. Leonhart for ridding us of this pestilance! Much obliged, Commander. Now on to the real business. There is work to be done, and Esthar must be a prime target for coordination. It's high time that metropolis awaken sometime soon. Repeated rumors of their economic forays at Fisherman's Horizon and a surprising military incident off the eastern coast of Centra suggests their President seems willing to do business.

First things first, control Galbadia. They seem to be getting too out of hand.

**DOLLET TIMES**

A marvellous time to be an associate of Balamb. A marvellous time for the sake of our own city! With crumbled infrastructure from the devastating Ultima bomb coming to a full swing in rehabilitation, the good people of Dollet have never been happier. The martyrs who fought alongside the Balamb SeeDs and citizens will forever be remembered upon the granite wall being constructed in front of the Duke's residence. A detailed list of every man and woman who fought valiantly on those red-stained plains is being processed as of this writing.

**TRABIAN MONTHLY**

This is truly a time when we as publishers and journalists, despite the total destruction of the Trabian news systems and the complete dissolution of viable sources for feed transmission, must sincerely report the good news. While the deaths of thousands of people from the missile strikes earlier this month and the subsequent thousands who have died from utility failures and starvation have been the most pressing issues thus far, we as good Trabian citizens must recognize that the Sorceress menace has been defeated once and for all.

What weary population remains has seen peaceful assemblies and smiling faces out in the streets of Kirkuk and Tomlinson and a great bonfire has been created in the center of the dilapidated Trabia Garden. Under secrecy, expatriated Trabians in the horrible cesspool of Deling City have found time to express their gratitude as well. Our hearts and souls go out to the good people of Balamb and Dollet and the rended citizens of Galbadia City.

**THE HORIZON**

It is a tragic day and a virtuous day. May the grace of Siren bestow the fallen and right their ways in the afterlife, amen. Duke Haydyn and Commander Leonhart have utilized the best possible means to make the world a better place. After much careful scrutiny, we the good citizens of Fisherman's Horizon under the stewardship of Mayor Dobe have decided to aid the two leaders with our energy outputs... and it paid off. We seek guidance from Shiva to light the way for the over 20,000 souls lost in that battle, one high-profile case being Admiral Sir Wyatt Humphries who lost his life in the second naval skirmish with the mecha units.

Galbadia has long been an antagonist to Horizon economics, but no nation on this great earth with the exception of Esthar on a few occasions has caused this bridge city great grief. We are sad to see a large army become so wasted, and we are even more alarmed that the second-largest city in the world, Deling City, is now exploiting the war against the Galbadians and drawing them ever more into a cycle of corruption. We the good people of Fisherman's Horizon will advance as much aid as we can to the battered Galbadian people as well as slip into the metropolis of Deling itself to aid the beleagured Delingers trapped under the iron fist of the Guard.

First things first: aid the battered Balambians and Dolletians. Their Garden has been rendered inoperable. Medivac ships have already been dispatched at the start of the battle two days ago today and should arrive this time tomorrow evening. Grave injuries abound on all sides at the top of the chain as well as the bottom. It is our deepest hopes that full-scale wars like this Centran tussle never happen again.

**BALAMB SUN**

Dance in the streets! Bake the finest goods! The Balambians have won the day!!

Our very own representative, Assistant Vice Commander Zell Dincht, was a leader of the Quad command during the attack by Galbadia Garden. Word has it that the Sorceress was killed and her knight Sir Seifer Almasy was gravely wounded. News of his whereabouts is unknown, however, and the overall feeling is that he was killed in action and dumped into the sea. Thank Eden!

Commander Squall Leonhart will have a statue commemorated in his honor in the Pier District overlooking the Central Ocean, facing a direction aiming towards the Dollet Dukedom. For now we truly have a long and binding friendship with the Duke and his country, and we hope that it continues for all time.

Long live Balamb and Dollet!!

* * *

Somewhere in time immemorial, while looking into the deep green unwavering eyes of the now silent but still immaculately beautiful Rinoa Heartilly, Squall Leonhart heard his ballad. The unmistakable Angels of War plagued his mind and crumpled his weary body. He could not get their voices out of his head:

_ We fly without fear_

_Through the valley of shadows_

_Waging our war against evil_

_In your world_

_We rule the heavens and earth_

_From kingdoms of light_

_We are the holy_

_Holy angels of war_

_Angels of war_

_We are the holy angels of war_

_Angels of war_

_Gleaming white angels of war_

_Descending in glory_

_With the sound of an army of wings_

_We enter your world_

_We rule the earth and the sky_

_From kingdoms of light_

_We are the holy_

_Holy angels of war_

_Angels of war_

_We are the holy angels of war_

_Angels of war_

_Thick red mouthful of evil_

_Will you swallow?_

_Angels of darkness will tempt you_

_Will you follow?_

_Spit in the face of evil_

_Never fear_

_Fly on the wings of glory_

_Join us here_

_We are the holy angels of war_

_Angels of war_

_We are the holy angels of war_

_Angels of war_

_We are the holy angels of war_

_Angels of war_

_We are the holy angels of war_

_Angels of war_

_

* * *

_

It was difficult to tell whether dawn was breaking or if the thunderhead-choked sky was just clouding over into a liquidated grayness. Rain had started falling soon after the Renzokuken attack had cleaved Galbadia Garden down the middle, and the soldiers and magicka users outside had been drenched and their open wounds infected. Duke Haydyn set commanders to race the bulk of them onto his ships for safety while a few special teams went to pull Edea Kramer and Squall's crew out of the Garden.

Upon having seen Rinoa's fallen state, Squall's body shut down and he physically became ill. Irvine was also in bad shape, having part of his pelvis shifted completely off its normal axis. On top of that both shinbones and his foot were broken. Zell had only been partially healed by Edea, before Rinoa's comatose affliction was revealed, and he once again was konked out in a medivac. Quistis and Selphie had their physical maladies aided, but a drastic sickness coupled with a splitting headache, and they both retched countless times and became dehydrated. Edea herself, having become accustomed to succubus nature for almost ten straight years, fell backwards and grew very dizzy. At least two dozen Dolletians shackled them in gurneys and medical tubes and spent at least an hour hauling all seven bodies out.

The rain made it worse, and the smell of death left them in one place and grew stronger in the next. The runoff from the mangled corpses trailed across the shifting sands of the plains and spilled into the forest streams and ocean waters. An environmental disaster was afoot, and there was hardly anything one could do about it. The dried plains became slick puddles, and thousands of reddish-brown liquid trails crept across the mass.

A platoon of Coast Guard ships from the nearest Centran townholds beached adjacent to Haydyn's ships, and the Galbadian SeeDs were escorted onto two of the six vessels and sent back to Galbadia City for recouperation. The other four opened its bridges for the bulk of the wounded Dolletians and Balambians. Good news reached the crew's ears that the FHers were just twelve hours away with the best medical equipment this side of Esthar.

Squall Leonhart saw his vision shift to a desaturated color scheme. His friends and the former Sorceress were shielded off from view, and from his secured position all he could tell around him was the rainy sky slowly pelting his face with drops that seemed razor-sharp. His back felt split open, such that every jarring movement he made practically killed him. The pain would be so sharp that even the slightest movements would warp up his spinal cord to the stem of his brain and knock him unconscious for five seconds a piece. Yet for a protracted time, he was able to secure lapses of tranquil peace in a proverbial way as his mind shifted back to Rinoa. To that beautiful princess who was trapped in the strangest coma he had ever seen. The pain in his body was so great so he couldn't give her a good scan for the finer details, but from what he remembered she was still breathing-- if only very slightly.

He knew he was outside, but he had absolutely no idea where he was. All he felt was rain, and all he saw was a lightening blackness with dark gray clouds lining the edges of his vision. Suddenly the rain stopped, and he felt a warmth creeping up and distilled voices clamoring in the background. A faint flicker of light shone in waves and shadows of people fought against the light. He felt his gurney twist around corners until finally smacking into some doors. Then a bright light, almost pure white in color, filled his eyes and the sheer sudden sight of it forced him unconscious again. A great pain once again shot up to his brain, but he was greeted with a pinprick into the vein on his left arm and some type of liquid melted into his body. He regained awareness drunkenly and felt himself lifted to a higher level, although he was still on his back. The liquid singed through him, and he blacked out for a longer period of time.

Quietness. Pure quietness.

Then awake. And better. His body ached but in a way that felt healed. A feeling that he hadn't felt since his first great rest upon return from the desert prison. A few wires were stuck in him with pulsing liquid running through him and periodic bursts gushing through the veins in his body. Two surgical plungers were embedded in his stomach and three in his back. Every minute, a small burst of heat washed over him, slowly sewing his open scars up. Several hypodermic needles were plunged in his arms and legs, and he had a couple in his head. He looked like a porcupine, and he felt as docile and drugged up as ever.

Somebody was watching him. He could tell as the hair on his skin started to prick to attention.

It was a high-ranking Centran officer smoking on a golden pipe. "Boy. That's some might fine sparring you do."

_Why does that sound so familiar?_ Even thinking hurt him a bit. He wouldn't be freely able to walk for days most likely.

"Who.... are..you?" he asked. His voice was sore.

The officer chuckled slowly. He was a Commander, the highest rank of the Centran Coast Guard, and he had many medals on his chest. He sat in a plush chair smoking his pipe and looking at Squall with an admirable gleam. "I guess it shouldn't surprise me that you don't remember. The GFs have truly done some work on ye."

_GFs._ Squall sighed and relaxed more in his prostrate stance. "Yeah....I've...for...gotten part of...my past."

"About the orphanage, eh?"

Squall shot a quick glance at the man. "Y-Yeah..."

"And about Leviathan?"

Squall raised his eyebrows.

"And about the week-long trip to Balamb Garden?"

"Y---" Squall weakly raised his finger to point. "You....that Commander... on the ship."

The Commander blew out some smoke from the pipe. "It is me. Much older now after eight or nine years or so. I'm quietly living out my life in Holkstrom just east of here. Ho ho, little Squall, you've grown up much since your days with that oar of yours. Using a gunblade now I see."

Squall couldn't believe it. He let out a small laugh mixed with a sigh. "Where...were.. you when the...battle broke out?"

"All our combat ships were destroyed by the Estharians long ago. All we do now is support work. We knew the people on the Horizon would send help immediately, but we wanted to take extra precautions. We're as neutral as one may get. That is why the Galbadians have gotten secured as well. Our hope is that they don't go back to their hijinks again like they did last time we saved their asses."

Squall looked at the tubes stuck in him. "This is Horizon equipment..."

"Why yes indeed. We only had the basic necessities to keep you from dying. It's been roughly five days now since the battle. The FHers got here about four days ago, and they've been working nonstop. They are..really very generous people."

Squall slowly nodded. "What of... the others?"

"Edea was able to recouperate immediately on the first day, and we took great liberty to shield her away from the reporters. She's staying at the orphanage right now with her husband, and the reporters from Deling, Dollet and Ithius are only talking to the Duke. He's set to return to his city upon one last meeting with you and possibly a farewell toast to the deceased."

"Yes...we..must toast them off."

"The bulk of the fighting force of the Dolletians have been cured, as well as a sizeable portion of the Balambians. The SeeD forces are the next to take care of. As for your close coterie of friends, Quistis Trepe and Selphie Tilmitt are fully cured and are helping out Zell Dincht and Irvine Kinneas. That Irvine guy is pretty beaten up, but he's awake and able to talk. There's also a cute-headed pigtail girl helping out the Zell fellow."

Squall chuckled a bit. "Expected.. that."

"Don't tell anyone, but I think she's crazy."

"Everybody...else..says the same..thing."

Both of them laughed, and the Commander puffed his pipe again.

Squall swallowed a bit, before the next bit of words were able to come through. "What about.. Rinoa?"

The Commander expelled the smoke out his nose. "The raven-haired girl?"

"Y-Yes..."

The Commander shook his head slowly, and Squall frowned. "She is in a great coma. Her heart is barely beating, and there is some kind of firewall swirling around it, almost like a tourniquet cutting off the blood supply and then reworking it over and over again. The doctors can't figure out what to do, and they've tried everything that they know of. Her lungs are soaking in air but very slowly. Her skin turns blue every hour or so before shading back to pinkish tone. I...don't want to tell you this.. since some say you have deep feelings for her--" He saw Squall give him a look. "--but she should be dead. Something is keeping her alive."

"Wh-What?"

The Commander fiddled limply with his pipe. "I don't know, Mr. Squall. It is beyond my comprehension."

Squall buried the back of his head into his pillow, frozen and in shock. What was keeping her alive? Why couldn't she wake up? He turned stunned towards the wall and felt sleep overcoming him again. "It's good... to see you again.. sir."

"My pleasure, Commander," the officer said and slowly got up to head out the door.

* * *

For another week, he was worked on. In the latter half of the trying days, he was awake and ginned up on morphine watching the Horizon doctors surgically remove bullet tracings and obstreperous energy-charred fragments from his stomach and the crook of his back. He kept getting scolded on his lack of careful planning in the heat of oncoming fire and on the need for the proper care of combat and medicine. Wasn't he a SeeD? they asked repeatedly. He just took it in and heard field reports from both Quistis and Xu on the situation happening in Galbadia City and Deling City. Apparently, the Delingers were the newest threat. Not the people per se-- who had merely becoming willing sheep for the property elite-- but the Deling Guard under the command of that indignant perpetrator Colonel Whigham who had organized the political assassination of Rinoa's father. Squall listened intently while biting down hard on a medical baton when the nurse extrapolated a thick piece of gun fragment from his hip.

Nida Williams was dead, and the Garden itself was destroyed. The one shining good news was that the FHers had brought along two carrier vessels with extended "polearm devices", or so they called it, to gather the cleaving wreckage and haul it back to the bridge city for complete repairs. The trip to the city would take four days at least to make sure no parts would fall to the bottom of the Sea. Once there, the repairs would take at least two months. All that waiting around.... Squall didn't quite feel too comfortable about that. And no driver, too. The complete impalement of Nida with chaingun fire and glass shards delved into his chest was a terrible disappointment as well as a horrifying picture. Xu herself was permanently crippled from her gut wound, and she was forced to use a cane and could not stand for long periods of time for fear that her lower back would collapse in two. The majority of the commanders under Selphie and Irvine's lead were offed, and a bulk of the SeeD force was gone.

Yet, the Dollet Dukedom and the Port of Balamb were still in high spirits. Joined by the nominally neutral Centran governments and the remnants of Trabia, as well as the continuing pride of the FHers, Squall Leonhart felt pretty confident that an extremely vulnerable and manipulated Galbadian force and a highly volatile Deling force would not cause too much of a threat for the next three months. The daily rioting and the burning of twelve of Deling City's thirty districts were far from the contentedness that he preferred, but there was still breathing room.

That left the question of Esthar, and it was a topic his two female subordinates finally pressed up. There were only rumors of news pieces that something had occurred in that elusive continent. An incident not too long ago, and further economic issues had made its presence known. Why didn't the fucking wasteland speak up for once? It was a question he was determined to find out, along with an equally mind-numbing question as to the whereabouts of that confounded Cid Kramer. He was getting pretty pissed off at the old man for dodging the bloodiest war since the Adel fiasco, even if the old coot was Edea's husband. Squall figured that if the old man was alive, she had gone immediately to him once the Dolletians had fixed her minor wounds up on the first day. Duke Haydyn had mentioned it in passing three days earlier, and it was confirmed by the Centran Commander.

Finally after, fourteen days in confined medivac status, Squall Leonhart gently eased himself out of bed and spent ten hours with rehabilitation physicians and equipment. Accelerated by medicine tablets and upon completion of a rigorous SeeD training test, the head nurse certified him officially fit for duty again, and he donned his ruffled leather jacket and leather pants. He shifted the two red belts on and found his Twin Lance and secured it tightly back to its rightful spot. The hydraulics on the door drew open, and his four friends greeted him enthusiastically. Their expressions were drained, much probably like his, but they nevertheless livened up when they saw his flushed face. Irvine the cowboy looked significantly better, sporting a brace for his arm as the last remaining injury for his recouperation. He was probably set to take a nap, but he wanted to hear Squall's speech in praise of the dead. The gunblader himself was brimming with notes out of his pockets. It was something he had spent four days on contemplating.

He hugged all four of them long and hard, and he felt despondent that the one person he really wanted to embrace was locked in a nefarious sleep. The dog was there, though, and he didn't have to worry about Squall not giving him some attention. Angelo licked his face raw and gave the Commander a look that registered deeply in Squall's mind: _what was wrong with my master?_ Squall ruffled him behind the ears and stood up. A movement caught their attention behind them, and they turned to see a very familiar and infuriating face.

They all sucked in breath upon the sight of the Headmaster, but Squall restrained his tongue from lashing out.

Cid checked his specs and looked at the floor. "I know, I know. I slipped away just as soon as we crested the beach."

"Why, sir?" Quistis asked imploringly.

He started rumpling his vest. "I was caught in the biggest debacle of my entire life, one that trumped even the time when she became.... that monster."

Squall took a step forward, and his friends wondered if they should restrain him. Yet, they were curious about his position. His eyes did not gleam in malice, but he seemed to be breathing heavy. "So many people died," he said, "I could have used your support."

"But look at what you did. You used your team's best judgments, and then you made the best decision for everybody. When all seemed lost, you gave them hope."

Squall opened his mouth to fight back, but he was surprised to find nothing there. He closed it and looked away.

"I was in a no-win situation, Squall. I had raised you all with her way back then, and you were really my children. The children I never had. To raise you all to fight as the only chance of living you had was a monstrous undertaking and a great investment of our lives. Yet, to fight...her! My wife, the one I have loved for so long. Which would I choose? You or her? I did not sleep for four days straight, and on the eve of the battle when we were crossing the Sea I fell from my insomnia and busted my nose. If you can see," he twisted around to show them, "it's forever crooked. A sign of my personal state. I just couldn't bear to see either outcome. Yet, I only left because I was so sure of you, Squall. I was so sure the day we arrived at Fisherman's Horizon for the first time that you were the only one capable of leading this Garden. When we get it fixed back up again, I will still have no doubt in my mind that you are the only capable man to man it! And look what you did in the end! You routed the fiercest fighting force on the planet! Never mind what the Delingers are doing now... they are not organized into anything as monstrous as what Edea and the deceased President Deling accomplished..not yet anyway. You routed them. You invaded a highly fortified and dangerous military institution, sabotaged a succubus knight which unfortunately was the malleable Seifer Almasy a former child of mine, and-- even more admirable-- you saved Edea. You saved Matron. With all the power you harnessed in the eight years of your training, you amassed the Blasting Zone and defeated the power of the malice afflicted on her."

Cid stopped to catch his breath, and Squall was aghast and amazed. His friends were shellshocked, and even though they partook in it they couldn't help but admire Squall and cast stunning looks on him. Squall now was totally at a loss for words and he fidgeted immensely.

Cid walked up to him and embraced him. "We'll talk with her soon. Probably tonight while the FHers rig up the Garden for transportation. That will probably take a while. In the meantime, the dead must be attended to."

"Yes," Squall answered breathlessly, "yes they must."

All six of them collected themselves together and walked slowly out of the ship and onto the reddish plateaus. The stench of death still lingered on the plains, but the rain had treaded most of it away. The seas were still stained with the hunk of decay, and there were many birds scavenging on the corpses of fish strewn all along the banks. The trees in the closest forest had started to brown, and copious swarms of mosquitoes buzzed angrily within the streams floating inside it. Able-bodied Dolletian men had erected large coffins that could hold two bodies a piece, and hearty Balambians had gathered as much of the dead that had not sunk to the bottom of the sea in neat little rows. The women were lacing the dead with lime, so the smell wouldn't kill all of them as well. Disease reports had afflicted several hundred people in the immediate aftermath but only twenty had succumbed to diptheria and cholera, as the FHers had reached the peninsula rather quickly to subdue the flow. The body of Admiral Humphries had been recovered, half-eaten by fish, and Duke Haydyn personally loaded his coffin ready. The morning shifted to mid-afternoon before ten thousand coffins lay ready to set out to the western sea and sink to the bottom. Both sides-- Dolletian, Balambian and Galbadia-- were represented equally. A Galbadian officer, defected to their side, joined Haydyn and Squall on a large platform as the young Commander addressed the podium in front of him. Irvine, Selphie, Zell and Quistis stood in front of the platform at attention, and the vast array of Balamb and Dollet soldiers still around in the aftermath snapped to attention. About a hundred or so waited by the banks to cast the coffins out to sea, and about a dozen carried rifles to sound off a gun salute.

Squall cleared his throat and scanned them all, taking and breathing in the sight of a very respectable and admirable bunch of young and old people. This toil had gone on now for almost three weeks, yet everybody was enamored in awe at him standing before them. So much so, that he had to pause to accept that opinion before commencing.

"My friends," he began distinctly, "it has been a long and grueling fight. Many lives were lost, yet many lives have begun in a new life. Wherever they have gone to, their actions on this earth brought them to profound decisions. It brought them a change that they never knew existed before. It has also brought us a change we never knew existed. A deep connection that goes beyond borders and beyond seas. We fought for each other and for a woman trapped in a hideous cloak of an enemy long hated by all sides of the world. We saved this woman and perservered the memories that we cherished so long ago.

"For it is true, Edea "Matron" Kramer was not just a mother-figure for orphaned youths during the Sorceress War in Esthar twenty years ago. She was a leading human rights advocate in the country of Galbadia, within the legislature of Deling City, and a frequent guest in the house of the Duke of Dollet. She represented the Centra Coast Guard and along with her husband had great relationships with Trabia, Balamb and Fisherman's Horizon. Whatever the elusive Esthar thinks about her, my opinion would be they hold her in high esteem as well. This past decade she has been stuck as a Sorceress, so parts of this world have become afront to her ways and her past. It might be beneficial to keep the lid in the media about the victory that occurred in the ruins of Galbadia Garden, yet it would be beneficial to inform the advocate groups that are on our side in each of the major cities." A wave of applause erupted to him.

"The causes of her transformation are not yet known to me, but I intend to find out. At first glance, it may seem as if the men and women who died here on these plains did not know the circumstances of her self either, yet what they did fight for was her preservation. If the world is indeed organic, then they have truly not left but have reformed and reorganized into new matter on this very earth, and they are still here to guide us and remain close to our souls, so that one day we may pass our bodies to the decay of this earth and rejoin them in happiness and tranquility once more. That is of a spiritual opinion that I have personally not said to many in my life, and, hm, it seems to weird to espouse it right now..." Laughter greeted him, and he was surprised at how many were excited about his omission. "I have never prayed to anything, and I didn't at the start of this war. I just wanted the sanctity and unity of you all to guide me into this conflict. And because of that, we won. We believed we could do it, and we did.

"So... for that we thank the ones that we lost along the way. We remember them always. Most of all.... we look forward to seeing them again in the very near future. For life on this earth is just the beginning. What happens beyond the veil is the trueness of heart. With that, let us cherish the memory of our fallen on both sides. For even our pronounced enemies have stories and families, and they too are a part of us even if our corporeal minds have dissolutions and confrontations with their corporeal minds. They are truly our brothers and sisters, if only we could grapple with that concept at the very beginning. Yet, as human beings we are flawed forever in that aspect. Yet, even further, as human beings we have the capability to understand that very concept and to appreciate it. Thus, at long last, let us remember all who fought that day and take great comfort in their past and in our fortitude."

He snapped to attention, reversed around to the coffin display, and his crowd followed suit. He whipped his arm up first to salute, followed by Headmaster Cid, his four trusted friends, and then the entire assembly. The coffin team went to the front of the floodgate and waited. The riflemen raised their guns and fired three times, while the bugle player began to play, and the coffins were released. They were on a gently gliding slope, so the coffin team immediately dispatched them and then went to attention and saluted. The melancholy bugle played continuously its sweet sad song, and the whole crowd of some three thousand stood rigid and proud as each of the coffins dipped into the sea and drifted along the current until the weight mixed with the water and sank them down one at a time. The company did not waver until the very last coffin sank into the sea. Then, Squall let out a contented sigh and dropped his salute and turned to his fellow fighters. "At ease," he said, and they eased.

* * *

Through his binoculars, Raijin could see the parade of coffins entering the sea and could hear the bugle playing sadly across the narrow strait some ways south of the procession. On one of the many northern island of Centra, with a great chunk of peninsula jutting west of them into the general direction of Balamb and Fisherman's Horizon, the two misfit Balamb traitors and Galbadia deserters had a makeshift camp and deteriorating food supplies they had scrounged from a Centran caravan. Fujin was growing irate, and she was about to claw the burly man's throat up. The bugle, though, had pricked her attention, and she rose weakly to hear it better. The sight of the coffins from her vantage point dismayed her.

"PITIFUL," she murmured.

"Hey, like many people died, ya know?"

"FUCK YOU," she spat, smacking him hard on the shoulder. She sat immediately down again, and Raijin shook his head sadly.

"Damn, Fu, look at the mess all of us are in now. Ya know, Galbadia's disbanded. Deling looks ready to, like, be the next villain, and Squall's a frickin hero."

She made a nasty guttural sound at the mention of his name.

"Whoa, whoa, Fu, he spared our lives, ya know."

She rolled her eye.

"Well, I mean, I still want to kill the prick for what he did to us, and for what he did to Seifer."

"SEIFER?" She made a surprised sound in her throat, and her one eye was agitated and surprised. "SEIFER?" she repeated.

"You didn't hear?"

She shook her head forcefully.

"Squall killed him, ya know!"

"BASTARD!!!" Fujin railed up to her feet and tossed her half-eaten sandwich into the general direction of the young Commander. "BASTARD!! SHITHOLE!! FUCKFACE!!"

"Damn," Raijin squeaked, backing away, "I didn't know you had, like, Tourette's syndrome."

She grimaced and cracked the knuckles in her hand.

"Don't worry, Fu, we'll get Squall. It's only a matter of time, ya know?"

She nodded slowly and then perked to attention. There was a low rumbling sound coming to the west of them, followed by two sets of heavy footsteps. The plains were rough patches, but they didn't seem to be too heavy for feet to make that sound. Raijin was taller so he could be better to see in the distance, and when he shielded his eyes he gasped aloud. The red and gray motorcycle stormed across the Centran land, and two powerful Chocobos trailed it restlessly. The man straddled across the behemoth bike was supposed to be dead. The closer he came, the more Raijin saw that his face was strained with malice and hatred.

"Oh shit..." Raijin said in a voice so slow that Fujin could barely hear it. However, his face had gone almost green, and the small woman felt that the current conundrum was of a very serious matter. Now she was able to see the rider, and she was absolutely stunned.

Seifer stopped his bike and the two bird-horses at the edge of the peninsula ridge. A small strait not bigger than eight feet wide separated his land from theirs. They looked at him in fright, yet he looked miles away into the distance. His blue eyes were grayed out in a sharp contrast to his perplexion. The muscles in his face were taut and strained. His hair was greasy, and his skin was smudged with dirt. There were scars from the fight Squall had given peppering his exposed skin, for the trenchcoat was gone and only his gray undershirt and black pants remained. Hyperion was slung over his back, and the muscles in his arms were splattered with strings of veins running down to his fingertips. Sweat and dirt caked his body, and he looked like he hadn't rested a day.

"S-Seifer..." Raijin said nervously, "we-we th-thought you were--"

"Dead?" he asked. His voice was hollow and faraway. He was most definitely preoccupied with something.

Raijin stole a quick glance at Fujin, but she was utterly transfixed. "Y-Yes," the brawler squeaked, "dead. That's r-right. I though Sq-Squall, he--"

"Squall is a problem we shall deal with later!"

"Y-Y-Yes, sir."

"I am glad that he spared you two from the fight. It gives me great pleasure to have you two as accomplices to what I must finish doing now."

"D-Doing.... doing what?"

"Ohhh..." he sighed and leaned back on his motorcycle. He leaned so back that he could've fallen off, but he held on. "I've been a busy boy for quite some time now, heh." He made a dry life that sounded like dead leaves crumbling.

Raijin shook. "Galbadia's in chaos, ya know? D-Deling's like--"

"Deling City is nothing," he waved off irritably. "The ten thousand G-Army soldiers who fled have been rounded up by Captain Thomas Scully of the 15th Regiment. They've assembled at Moss Point fifty miles from here at the old Centran Ruins. They were able to quell most of the Tonberry population, and they have unearthed a truly collosal discovery. In time, we shall regain control of the Galbadian offensive and then manipulate the Deling Guard unto our will, sacrificing both country's populace in the process."

"Wh-What do you mean?"

"Squall won the first fight, almost fair and square. We lost the Sorceress Edea, but she was a nothing."

"A nothing? But how?"

Seifer waved him off again, and a sly smirk crept slowly across his face. His eyes changed their blueness, and the two of them became even more uncomfortable. "There is a new Sorceress we have at our pleasure. One more powerful and able to transcend dimensions that none have ever seen before." His smile widened to his fullest. "She has contacted me and told me what to do now. I am humbly honored to be a part of her plans." He slowly looked at them, and his eyes changed once again, widening and looking at them with a menacing and pleading gesture. "She is coming soon. Would you care to meet her?"

For a moment they did not answer, but they felt their bodies answer for them. They were unaware that they had gradually walked closer to their edge of the ridge. After an insoluable time frame, Fujin nodded her head and Raijin swallowed and nodded as well.

"Hop on then," Seifer smiled.

The two waded across the shallow strait and slowly mounted the Chocobos who whinnied and squawked at them with deferential praise. Seifer waited until they settled themselves and then started his engine. He wheeled it around to the east and took off. The Chocobos followed, and they spent almost an hour flying across the red-tinged land in silence. Along the way, though, Raijin and Fujin gasped at the sights they encountered. The land became more rough and unearthed the more east they progressed, until finally Seifer halted his craft at the edge of a large ravine. The Chocobos came up beside him, and Raijin and Fujin gasped even louder.

The area used to be a vast solid plateau shielded by a ring of purple mountains around the northern and northwestern sides of the fjord, obscuring sight from the Sea. Some of the mountain peaks had become chipped and blown apart by the vast amount of machinery and mining equipment strewn around the sides of the huge crater-like bowl now resting inside the plateau. A great year-long combination of continuous hardware had drastically increased in the last month and definitely within the last two weeks. Hundreds of Galbadians and Delingers were present, mostly serving as wardens and slave drivers although some indentured servants from both countries were busy toiling away. Thousands of dark-skinned Centran villagers were being probed by twisted cattle prods to work on unearthing a truly gargantuan object from underneath the ground. The object itself was at least a hundred stories tall from its position already, and the top of its mass was just barely meeting the three humans leaning on the ridge at eye-level. It was a large granite trapezoid-shaped building with red and green markings covering it from top to bottom. A pulsating aura slowly seeped off it and washed over everyone down in the pit constantly with greenish gas, making several of the workers appear a little loopy. The thousands of slaves operated the massive cranes and lifts, and several keeled over into death from the exhaust of work only to be replaced quickly by extra hands on duty.

Seifer watched the scene with glee, while Raijin and Fujin looked on in shock. The one-eyed woman was too paralyzed to address the issue, so Raijin weakly cleared his throat. "What... is it?"

Seifer breathed in deeply to savor the moment. "Lunatic Pandora."

The name hung in the air, and the three spent countless minutes watching the process unfold. It would take quite a while to fully excavate the granite monstrosity, but the hands worked daily nonetheless. The trio of enamored humans finally budged a bit upon hearing the bones in their back creak. Seifer guaged his accelerator and revved down the sloping side of the crater, and the Chocobos followed. It was a solemn ride down, and Raijin and Fujin pricked their ears to the steady low hum of voices chanting coinciding with the deep beats of a snare drum. The slaves were dismally chanting their hearts into a gutter, while Galbadian madmen beat furiously on drums to make them work faster. High-ranking officers snapped to attention upon the entrance of the trio, and Seifer waved them off as various underlings escorted his motorcycle and the two bird-horses away.

The Knight drafted a cigarette and smoked deeply, offering various hemps to Raijin who accepted gleefully and to Fujin who reluctantly lit up after taking in the sights some more. It was far louder down at the base, and they could actually hear the grating sounds of the Pandora slowly and painfully rising up out of its grave. The bastard demon was supposed to be dead a long time ago.

"Soon the world will be shrouded in the mercy again," Seifer smoothly laid out, sucking in deep smoke.

"Is this... a definite down-low?" Raijin asked.

"Most definite down-low. The Balambians and Dolletians will never know what hit them. Although my guess is... they will have a third ally possibly in the mix."

"Who?"

"A big, big country far far east of here."

"Esthar?"

"Possible, mind you. Nothing is guaranteed in this world."

"How are they gonna get into Esthar?"

"It's Squall. He always finds a way. But there are bigger and juicer items on the menu. I want the President of Esthar to look at this sight one more time. I want him to see this beauty being unearthed at this moment. It will put a newfound fright into that city." He laughed greedily.

Raijin gulped. "S-Sei-Seifer, ya know, heh, why are you, ya know, doing this?"

Fujin looked at him as well in a pleading gaze.

Seifer only chuckled and shook his head. "There's a _true_ war brewing, my friends. A war that will surpass the previous Sorceress War with Adel. You see, she didn't get all the help that she needed back in the day. I intend to make things differently this time around."

Raijin quickly looked at Fujin, who offered him the same response. "Seifer! Ad-Adel? But that's--she's--what...are you?"

Seifer dropped his cigarette. "Are you questioning your loyalty to me?" His eyes were bright blue.

"Wha--no, no. No I'm not."

Raijin was taller by three or four inches, but Seifer walked right up and into his face. "Are you sure?"

"Y-Y-_Yes_."

Seifer snaked an arm around Raijin's shoulder and twisted his body around. "Let me show you a disloyal man." He snapped his fingers at a warden. The officer obediently singled out an innocent Centran, took him by the ear, and then proceeded to slit his throat from ear to ear. A second warden came and gouged out both eyes and then hooked two razors into the nostrils and ripped the entire nose off before discarding the body into an incinerator located nearby. Seifer chuckled happily and then spun Raijin around to look at him. "I prize loyalty above all others, and of course let me be fair, you are not of the same caliber as these intolerable brownies." He watched Raijin gulp again. "You have always been my faithful friend and servant, Raij, so I have no reason to suspect you of cheating me out on my goals, eh?"

"Never ch-cheat, Seifer, ya know?"

"I know," he answered patting the man on the cheek. "I know." He gave Fujin the same treatment and then laughed his way over to the prostitute he had hired from the Centran village of Herkimer, leaving the two of them to be visibly shaken at the proceedings taking place right before their very eyes.

* * *

It was morning of the next day, and a light rain was pattering against the window of the FH medivac ship's Infirmary. Squall could see several dedicated Dolletians and FHers busy grappling with the attachments of their ships and the dilapidated Balamb Garden. Several others were busy disassembling Galbadia Garden to sell its parts to various places in Trabia and Galbadia City. These people were masters at their work, and Squall for once had to admire that.

However, his mind could only lapse for so long. His heart was aching for a woman to speak to him at this moment, and he turned now to that woman lying beautifully and silently on her back on a gurney. Her shoulder-length hair plastered underneath her head and gently carressed her pink-toned shoulders. Her hands clasped over each other just below her breasts, and from time-to-time a slow rise of the two signified that she was still alive yet unable to awake. The pinkish hue so prevalent in her before was gone and replaced by a steady fluctuating blueish hint of hypothermia, as she was very cold. The doctors were amazed that such cooling in her bloodstream should have the effect of killing her slowly. Maybe it was doing just that, yet her heartbeat pulsed correctly if at a very slow rate.

Squall had seen the monitors dozens of times, and he had really lost count. There was an astonishing energy bloc surrounding her aorta, and the doctors could do nothing to extinguish. Really, they didn't want to since they had no idea what it was. The only thing to do was to wait for her to wake up-- which could take years.

Squall frowned.

She was so beautiful.

The dog was asleep next to his feet, so he carefully stepped over him and kneeled down so his face was next to hers. He did the now infinite checking below her nose and was still relieved to feel air wafting on them. He didn't how many times he had done that, he just kept on doing it. He had cursed himself too many times for not spilling himself earlier when he had the chance. He had tortured himself long enough.

Yet, he knew he was not even close to being done. The others had left him alone for the most part, although he could tell something big was occurring around him. During the brief times he had been away from Rinoa after the speech and the sending (mainly to eat and use the toilet), he heard hushed voices everytime he passed people. Some of the surviving SeeDs seemed to be passing wagers and bets around, and of that Squall couldn't understand. He wasn't much keen on figuring it out, either. His heart was too empty.

He felt a presence near him, and he turned to see Quistis Trepe leaning against the side of a door with her arms folded across her chest.

"How is she still?"

"Still alive thank goodness."

She stood still for a moment contemplating Squall's affections for this girl. She knew it was fruitless to bother about such things as herself being attached to the man, but she lingered emotionally to such things far too easily.

"I've... got good news."

Squall looked up slowly.

"Matron and Cid want to talk to us. She's ready to say something."

Squall leaned back slowly and started to form a bit of smile that made her feel a lot better. "Where at?" he asked.

"The orphanage in the garden. They were able to cover it with some tarp to keep out the rain."

Squall cracked his back and slowly stood up, however he woke up Angelo so the action was fruitless. "Let's go see her."

Zell, Irvine and Selphie were already waiting in ponchos out on the deck. Squall and Quistis dressed in theirs, and all five of them slowly walked across the Centran land in silence listening to the rain fall around them. The orphanage loomed ever closer, even though the rain and fog grayed out the presence in the background.

It was still a beautiful building, and they were immediately thrown into nostalgia. They were sad to see the lighthouse as nothing more than a stump now, but they recalled it in their memories so the feeling was still fresh in their mind. The years of warfare and erosion had killed off most of the grass leading from the beach to the wraparound veranda, but small traces flickered around the base and in the garden itself which they could see coming into full view. Several walls of the orphanage had been blown apart, but the frame and most of the ceiling still held tract.

"Great Eden," Zell gulped, tears choking his voice.

"Yeah..." Irvine followed.

Selphie and Quistis were already crying and not bothering to wipe their cheeks. Squall had a huge lump in his throat, too. However, his thoughts were all discombobulated. His primary focus was on Rinoa, and he just couldn't seem to shake it off. He knew that was bad concerning the topic at hand... but he just couldn't help himself.

They slowly walked up the ruined stone staircase and beheld the front courtyard. Visions of childplay rummaged through their eyes as they beheld themselves playing tag, chasing balls, setting off firecrackers and tattling on each other. Zell remembered rolling across Seifer and Irvine in the grass, while Quistis remembered braiding Selphie's hair in the shade of the apple tree-- which was unfortunately gone now.

Cid stood in the gaping doorway of the now drafty and blank interior. He beckoned them in as graciously as he could, and they followed Squall in. The once vibrant colors of the rugs, tables, desks, paintings, and ceiling textures were gone and replaced by drabby renditions of the cement and plaster that now remained. Broken glass from windows still remained on the floor, and a cold draft eschewed from the rain-soaked wind outside. They had forgotten how small the orphanage actually was-- it seemed to be much bigger when they were kids. Twisting around a couple of corners, they happened across the back courtyard and the garden itself and she herself.

They had already met the warm and better side of her immediately upon Squall's defeat of the succubus skin, yet they now felt bigger lumps impress on their throats as she turned around to behold them one more time. Her eyes were deep, and shadows percolated underneath them. The lofty headdress had been discarded, and she had let her long brown hair down letting it bathe her shoulders and down her chest and back once more. She had dressed herself in a long purple gown tinged in black edges, and she wore simple sandals. The copious makeup and elegant decor they had come to know so well in the Sorceress garb was gone, and that old familiar Matron look resided once again.

"My children..." she said very slowly, eyes wavering, "please forgive me."

"Oh Matron," Zell started along with Quistis and Selphie, "no need for that."

"Please. I raised you all as my own, yet... in the end..."

"We know," Squall said, "we feel the same way."

"We fought knowing all too well who you were, Matron," Quistis added. "It was the only thing that felt right to do."

"Matron..." Selphie started to say, but her voice trailed off.

Edea smiled sadly and looked at all five of them. "You are SeeDs. You cannot back out of a battle, I know this. No matter how much it must have hurt to do it, I have to say... you were all magnificent. You never gave up, even when the toughest fighters came before you."

"We couldn't quit," Irvine said. "We had to do it."

"Indeed, and you are truly heroic." She took a small sigh, and her eyes wavered to the ground.

"What is it?" Zell asked.

"It is not over yet."

"What do you mean?" The brawler was shocked, but of course that was to be expected from him.

"Well... a variety of things. Some worse than others. You see.. at anytime...um..." She looked to Cid for support, and the five SeeDs became worried. The old Headmaster calmly nodded his head, and she did too. "I've been possessed all this time."

"Possessed?" Squall asked.

"At the mercy of Sorceress Ultimecia."

The name hung in the air with a nasty twang. The skies seemed to dim, and the crashing waves down at the beach seemed to pick up with a louder tempo, and the gulls stopped cawing.

"Ultimecia is a Sorceress from the future. Many generations ahead of our time, yet there is one tiny objective that she absolutely devotes her life to achieving. It seems quite unusual, but there is a young girl with a very unique power named Ellone that Ultimecia feels is extraordinarily important to attain."

"Ellone?" the five SeeDs asked in unison, eyes widening in shock.

"_The_ Ellone?" Zell asked.

"The one who sends us on flashback trips every so often?" Selphie asked.

Edea's eyebrows raised. "I do not know the full extent of this mysterious power, but yes it is our little Ellone from this orphanage. Oh, she was a treasure. So sweet and pretty and kind to every child that came into this domain. I recognized that she was different from all the others right off the bat, although at the time I did not know what repercussions she would have with not just succubi but with entire national governments.

"I am afraid I cannot help you understand the power that she has. It is not Sorceress power, but it is something more special and arguably more powerful that neither I in that possessed state nor Ultimecia could ever contest with. That is why, she seeks Ellone to no end. Ultimecia is a very fearful Sorceress, and her heart is filled with anger and hate. The reasons for that must occur in her own time, after we are all dead and gone. Something must happen in the future that causes her to scorn so badly.

"Well, she came at a time into our world one day at this orphanage. She was badly wounded from a nasty fight and near-death. She felt the only thing that could possibly save her would be to capture Ellone in this world and bring her back to her time to right the ways that had gone wrong in the realm in which she dwelt. I felt that there was more than met the eye, but I also felt something else. A strange presence that had contacted me sometime before it and told me what I must do in this world. It was almost familiar and recognizable to me, and it gave me great comfort. I knew right away afterwards that I could not let Ultimecia get Ellone. Well... there was only one thing to do.

"I harvested the bodily remnants of Ultimecia and captured her soul into mine. Thus, she possessed me, and I lost control of the mind that had made up me, Edea Kramer, your Matron. At the point, while I was still faintly aware of my surroundings, I told Ellone to escape. She knew right away, yet her soul knew you all would be affected. Yet, I told her to leave anyway, and I waited for the White SeeDs to take each of you one by one away from this peninsula before the Estharians and the Galbadians came to rid me away.

"You all left... some more reluctantly than others.." She gazed at Squall teasingly at that statement, to which Squall blushed a bit. "The governments came, and Esthar knew right away that they did not want to deal with another one of these creatures. The newly appointed President had just led a revolution against the hated criminal Adel and successfully done away with her. The President decided at that time to seal off the city and repel anybody that tried to come in. Galbadia was not as aware of what was happening in the outside world.

"Cid... knew of my decision. He figured the only way to stop it was to establish three Gardens of the kind that I had told him about from the revelations of that strange presence I had told you earlier. He, of course, thought it a strange and horrible thing, but it was love that propelled it together. He contacted the Shumi and the Ithians and got direct funding to build Trabia first as a support center. Then he built a defensive hub on Alcauld Island, and then finally a major military hub in Galbadia. He liked the seaside air and tranquilty of Balamb, and he decided to remain there while appointing his Lieutenant Martine to head the Galbadian Garden. Thus, he bided his time until some of his most precious SeeDs were ready to face the challenge.

"Me... I stayed here at the orphanage unbothered by most, except some very loyal brethren in the Centran Coast Guard. I then found an opening at Kelso for diplomatic work and eventually joined the Senate of the Assembly at Galbadia City before President Deling got enamored by communication skills... and the rest is current events for you all. To put it bluntly... the Sorceress who appeared in Galbadia was Ultimecia, in my shell. She has yet to achieve her goal, so that could only mean that she may intend to use my body as a host once more. Her plans must be carried out.

"However," she sighed, "I plan to take a stand this time. There could be a viable solution to helping understand and possibly stopping this onslaught, although we would have to wait until your Garden is completely fixed at Fisherman's Horizon. Yet... you all must realize.. if this does not work... we may have to fight one more time."

The five SeeDs looked intensely glum. Zell's shoulder sunk and he had no urge to even kick a pebble with his foot. Selphie leaned into Irvine, and the cowboy warmly put an arm around her although he too looked really sad.

Edea watched them and smiled happily. "I'm glad to see you two together. Such a wonderful pair."

Both of them smiled, and their hearts felt better.

"We support you all the way, Matron," Quistis said. "You mean everything to us."

"I greatly appreciate that. That will come in handy, as I fear that we will have two very powerful Sorceresses to deal with."

"Two?" Squall asked, with Zell straighting up rigidly.

"Yes. The Galbadians all believed that I had inherited my powers from Adel, although that was not the case and I did not bother to explain that to them. Adel has gone missing from the Estharian landscape. Western scientists have found no trace of any succubus energy left over there, fulfilling the claims of the Estharian military. However, since no one in the West has any space technology except for a few very primitive Dolletian and Deling satellies, there is logical consensus that Sorceress Adel was blasted up into space."

"Into space?" Zell asked.

"Yes. The Estharians wanted to get rid of her, but they had nothing to dispose of her body with except the means and ways of Tear's Point. The greenies, as they are affectionately called, have always been superior in technology. It is almost certain that they shot her into space and are closely monitoring her so that she does not wake up again.

"It is my ultimate belief that Ultimecia possessed my body so that I may unleash Sorceress Adel from her captivity and hibernation."

"What would she do with you then?" Squall asked.

"Release me to the dogs."

The five of them pondered that a long time.

"Sorceress Adel was a frightening woman, even before she was infected with the disease. There are two ways a woman can become a Sorceress: possession by a succubus or infection by man-made devices or by the Sorceress's pets, Malboros. Both are horrifying in their own way. The possession is a psychologically painful process in which you feel utterly transfixed and all alone. You feel ultimately vulnerable to anything and everything around you. Infection is the physical process. Man-made is worse because men of science inject the poison off a hibernated succubus and inject it into your skin. Every tissue and blood cell within your body shrivels into the contents of a lecherous demon, while your outside presence generates warmth and beauty to entice the humans of the earth. The Malboros are deadly creatures, and they normally kill men and spare the woman to be offered to the Sorceress herself. It is very dangerous to roam the plains of Esthar, especially at night."

"Doesn't sound like good picnic weather to me," Selphie said.

"Indeed not. Adel was infected through man-made devices from the contents of the previous Sorceress that ruled Esthar, Mytella, who was killed by her own spell in a most humerous way. Adel before the transformation was a tyrant in her own right and a serial murderer and rapist. She was bisexual but cruel to all she laid in bed with. She was a frightening creature, and her malice as a Sorceress caused thousands of deaths before the revolution trapped her at Tear's Point. If she were brought back alive, she would harness incredible strength to reap vengeance upon this earth in such a way that could possibly unnerve Ultimecia herself. The combination of Ultimecia possessing Adel would be a catastrophic nightmare. I... shudder to even think about that scenario."

Everybody else shuddered as well. The air fell deathly silent, but as soon as a one gull started to caw again, Selphie pulled Irvine close and started to talk about something and Quistis and Zell moved closer to talk as well. Edea sighed as if a great burden was finally lifted off her back, and Squall felt like he couldn't hold on anymore.

"Matron," he asked heavily. She looked at him pleasantly. "What is wrong with Rinoa?"

The others looked at him and then at her. She hesitated at first, clearly thinking of something which only caused Squall to grow more concerned. She took a breath and asked him, "Rinoa... the girl in light blue?"

"Yes," he answered simply.

She only responded with a shake of her head. "Her condition is quite serious, but I am afraid I can be of no help to you."

Squall visibly caved in, and the others tried not to look so surprised.

"Squall," Cid said, "you are in a position of leadership. Try to hold your composure straight and your emotions in check."

Squall shook his head. _Such mixed messages!_ The others had filled up for him and were now asking more questions about Ultimecia's plots to get Ellone, but he didn't care. Well, he did, but not at the moment. Ultimecia evil, check. Adel super evil, check. Plot to get Ellone, check. Something about time compression as a means to reach Ultimecia through Ellone, check but a weird phenomenon to be sure.

He heard their talk, and he knew he would be completing it soon. Rinoa Heartilly was all that tormented him now. The ballroom meeting flooded back to his mind, and he remembered her curvy bounce coming to meet him as he calmly and annoyingly sucked down that alcohol. He remembered the Timber mission and that ghastly pink-ass room with the frou-frou pillows and the flowery drapes and Angelo's lazy self seemingly crowning him the "New Master". Oh, he remembered the arguments they had. Outside the fake President's car. At the TV station when he basically called her an idiot. Inside the Forest Fox home. Outside the forest just before the second dream. Her smile, her face, her lips, her being changed him... if ever so gradually. It was probably during the assassination attempt when he got that first funny feeling-- well that and the ballroom dance when she was right on top of him, of course. Ah, but it only grew faster after that. From his prison abuse to the garden factions to his walking tours the elements just kept piling up quicker than a stock car crash in Deling City.

He suddenly paused in his thoughts. A simple three words flooded his mind, and he widened his eyes. _I love you...._ He was frightened after that, and he almost broke out into a cold sweat. Suddenly, what came was a calm and warm blanket that flooded over him, and he relaxed instantly. It felt good to think that, of course it would probably feel better to actually say it. And of course, he couldn't do that. It was unnatural.

No... really? Was it? He knew that was false. _Rinoa...give me another chance._

"Hey!!"

Squall shot straight out of his skin and danced around like his clothes had caught fire. He backed up against a concrete wall and was met by angry eyes from Selphie, Irvine, and Quistis, confused eyes from Cid and Zell, and humorous eyes from Edea. He barely had time to collect himself together.

"You're not even paying attention!" Selphie snapped, pointing a finger at him.

His eyes narrowed into a serious tone. "Ellone has a power to send people back into the past. It is this power that Ultimecia finds extremely fascinating, and she thinks that if she captures Ellone here in the present she can be able to use that power to change whatever is causing her grief in her time era. In order to make that happen, Ultimecia must use time compression to bend the rules and transcend various generations just to reach this young woman while causing havoc along the way."

Edea, Cid and his friends looked at him shock. How had he heard everything?

"All we got to do is prevent Ultimecia from getting to Ellone at all costs, even if that means doing the unthinkable once again."

"Well... yes, but--" Quistis started to say.

Squall backed off the wall and moved to the exit. "We can multi-task to get this done. We'll make headway to get the Garden there in record time, work overtime to get it fixed, and then forge a plan to strike out from there."

"Squall!" Irvine shouted. "We're all worried about Rinoa, too, y'know."

"You all worry about the plan, while I take care of Rinoa." With that, he was gone.

* * *

The plains were quiet, and the rain had stopped. The smell of decay and the smell of rain still hung heavily in the air, but Squall was surprised by the lack of life present between the orphanage and the ships. Galbadia Garden was fully dismantled and loaded on the cargo decks. Balamb Garden was half-way to the Sea for transport, but it looked the workers had taken a break. He wished they hadn't, for he felt time was not of the essence. He figured he would walk in and raise hell about it, even if it made him look like a prick.

The first thing that caught his attention was a red and gold banner signalling the colors of Triple Triad, and he knew he was caught in a scheme. What had antagonized him earlier caught up to him, and he looked at row upon row of various heads shuffled around tables with colorful cards dazzling all around them.

_Dammit... now's not the time for this._ A hand clapped down hard on his shoulder, and he spun around to see the ever-present and chortling Mackwell Blunt smoking a cigar once again and holding a box of specialty cards. "Dear Commander, the tournament has begun!"

Squall felt a tiny bit of enthusiasm perk at that, and that was all Mack needed to escort him inside and to a table in the ship's outer deck. The moon was coming out, which was a rare sight, and the card team had picked a gallant night for the Garden's best players to come out in full swing. Everybody wanted to watch Squall Leonhart see how great he was at ascending the ladder. Being a Commander and Level 30 ranked SeeD, he should have some serious chops at playing cards.

A trumpet was blared, and a rather astute simolean kid came out with a ledger and a pamphlet detailing tonight's battle with the Honorable Squall Leonhart, defeator of Galbadian forces against the CC Squad, the greatest card troupe this side of the Central Ocean.

"Ladies and gentlemen of esteemed Balamb and Dolletian faith, as well as the fine volunteers of Fisherman's Horizon, may we present to you the laughing stock and vehement player of the troupe, the Jo----ker!!"

A dandy fellow in bright green and red mock-up filtered out on the deck and plumped himself down right in front of Squall with a devillish grin on his face. He had a three-pronged hat with jeweled balls on the ends of them, splashed in green and purple colors. His face done up in copious globs of makeup and blush; he pretty much looked ready to gobble up a baby right then and there.

"I am the Joker," he squealed, his breath an excellent aroma of spoiled milk.

"I am getting the fuck out of here," Squall said, making way to get up.

"No, no, no Squall," Mack said forcefully setting him back down. "You can't leave the tournament. Too many bets have been placed already."

"I don't care about your gil and how you spend it."

"Ha-ha-hoo-heh," the Joker laughed. "Only cowards walk out of a tournamnet, heh heh."

Squall gritted his teeth. These Balamb nerds were insatiable, and a low rumbling was going through the crowd.

"All right, let's make this quick."

"Yeah!" the Joker squealed again. "Can't let the Jack get to you, ya know, heh heh."

The Triple Triad board was placed onto the table, and everybody crowded around. The astute simolean dweeb waddled over to their table and presented their cards face down. "The game starts out simple, but throughout the winner takes his opponent's cards. All of them. However, you Squall must only use these five cards I give you and no others."

"Why not any others?"

"Since this is a tournament, and you are the star representative of this Garden, we believe you seem the type of person who craves a challenge."

Squall shrugged. "Well, that I cannot complain with."

"Don't worry. There not Level One cards. Might be Level Two, but that's better than nothing right?"

Squall didn't answer and only waved his hand for them. They were placed in his hand, and he had to take a gander. The top prize was a GF card of Diablos with a 5,A, 8, and 3 in the traditional north, east, south and west pattern. That was a Level 9 with a platinum gold back to it-- so it must've been valuable. The next four decreased in level. There was a Level 8 which was, oddly enough, Rinoa's dog Angelo. He scratched his head in wonder and read the numbers 9,6,7,3. The third was a Level 7 of something called a Propagator at 8,4,4,8. The fourth was a Level 6 of a nasty robotic thing called a Trauma at 4,8,5,6. The last card was a puny Level 4 of an Adamantoise at 4,5,5,6.

He shrugged. He had a chance.

"The first game," the simolean yelled triumphantly, "is Open to all eyes. Joker, show us your hand."

The flamboyant impressor flashed his hand and revealed a Shumi card, an Abyss Worm, a Bomb, an Iguion, and a Grenaldo. Three Bosses and two Monsters-- quite impressive. The fight was on.

"The Joker always goes first," the Joker squealed and selected the Shumi card at 6,5,8,4 to the top left corner. Squall looked at his cards and saw that Angelo beat the Shumi on the south, so Rinoa's dog was placed underneath in the middle row. Both panels flashed blue in his favor. The Joker laughed, "Two can play that trick, heh heh." He placed his Iguion at 8,2,8,2 underneath Angelo's weak 7, and the gooberish crowd gasped in horror.

_Shit.._ Squall cursed. _There better be a payoff to this._ He looked at the deck of two yellows and one blue and saw that the Iguion was quite weak. He placed his Trauma card to the east of it and overtook it. The Joker made a guttural sound and then put his Bomb card at 2,7,6,3 on top of the Trauma overtaking it. "We can go at this all night long, but someone's goin down," he breathed his nasty spoiled milk. Squall shut him up with Diablos, and now two columns were lit up with four blues and two yellows, and the crowd was on pins and needles. The Joker looked ecstatic as he scrounged around in his deck and on the table. He thought he saw an opportunity to pin poor Squall to the wall. He placed his Abyss Worm at 7,2,3,5 in the top right corner so certain Squall would fall for the trick. The gunblader figured the kid was a moron, and he saw it plain as day. One of his cards was weaker against the Joker's last card, but the Propagator wasn't about to fall for the trap. Squall placed it in the bottom right, and the Joker looked stunned, although Squall couldn't tell why. It looked plain as day from his view. The Joker set his useless card in the open spot, and Squall won 5-4.

The crowd went wild, and the Joker slammed his froppy hat on the table revealing a bright, bright shock of untidy red hair. _You should probably put that back on,_ he joked to himself.

The Joker did another staged wave of his hand and then handed his Squall deck. "Ha-ha-ho, you are a good player, but the Jack of all Trades is better!!"

"That's right..." said the man named Jack. He swirled through the crowd with a cane and derby, dressed in fine shiny penny loafers and black coattails. A thin and slick moustache coated his upper lip, and he suavely strode over with a magical-colored box. "These..." he sickly lisped out, rubbing the box as if it was his lifelong treasure, "...are my precious wittle babies." He smacked the box hard on the table and pulled out five cards at random. "Dear, sweet Commander, you cannot possibly beat me."

Squall wished heavily for a cigarette, but getting up now was tantamount to forfeit. He watched the Jack's five cards of a Malboro at 7,7,4,2; a Fastitocalon at 7,5,1,3; another Shumi card; a Heavy Mecha at 5,5,7,4; and an Oilboyle at 1,8,8,4 fall out onto the deck in a sloppy manner.

"Hey, hey, hey," the simolean pleaded lazily, "you can't filthy up my tables like that."

"Quiet you!" the man named Jack snapped, performing a sleeper hold on the sim's neck and knocking the bastard out cold. Squall raised his eyebrows up at him, but Jack roared on contentiously, "_I_ am the master of this game!!" and the crowd went wild with various signs of hoo-hah as the dandy little prick took his seat with a big oomph.

Squall attempted to go first, but Jack smacked his hand with his cane. "_I_ go first, you piece of rubbish."

"Right you do, you little prick."

Jack laughed lecherously and picked up his Oilboyle. "You want to take advantage of this little one up north, now do you? Well tough shit!" He placed it in the middle block of the top row. "Beat that!" He jammed his middle finger almost directly into Squall's eyes.

Squall realized the guy didn't have a strategy-- he was just gonna throw cards around like it was nobody's business. He took his Angelo card and overcame the western 4 with his 6 and made both blocks blue. Amid the happy cheers, the Jack grumbled furiously, already flushing his cheeks at the thought of even _one_ card turning over. So, he did the only logical thing to do. He took his Malboro card and put it in the middle column... on the bottom row away from everything.

"No strategy, huh?" Squall teased as his Propagator's eastern 4 took over the Malboro's 2. Four blue blocks, and the crowd was wild.

Jack stormed to his feet. "Silence, you yellow-bellied shitholes!!"

Squall looked around him. "Is this legal?"

"Never you mind if it's legal or not, Mr. Squall," Jack snapped, his eyes flashing as if he saw the second coming of Eden. He snapped his Shumi card on top of the Malboro and made two yellow blocks compared to Squall's three blue. "I'm coming back, ya hear!"

"Not quite," Squall reassured, putting an Adamantoise card to the left of the Shumi. Five blues, one yellow. "What's next?"

Jack cried out in horror and made weird spitting noises. He instantly put the Mecha card on the top block of the eastern-most column. Nothing was able to turn over. He was betting on Squall putting in a weak card, but the gunblader put Diablos immediately underneath it. In a fit of rage, Jack slowly and angrily put down the Fastitocalon which turned over nothing. 6-3, Squall's favor. He leaned back and soaked in the cheering crowd.

Jack snapped to attention and pulled out a gun and aimed it at Squall's head silencing the crowd. "SUDDEN DEATH!!"

"Sudden...? What?"

"Sudden death! It means you and I pick one card out of this deck. Whoever has the bigger Level Card 1 through A wins. The loser gets a bullet in the head."

"You know I don't have a gun."

"All the more that I win, heh."

"Hey, that's the Commander!" somebody shouted, followed by more affirmations.

"I'm a Galbadian defect. You mean nothing to me."

"That doesn't make any sense," Squall said as calmly as he could.

"Nothing makes sense in this world," he snapped, plumping the overturned card deck in front of Squall. "Except luck."

Squall looked past the barrel into the man's wild eyes.

"Draw," Jack seethed.

Squall turned over the first card. A Level 4.

"Oh, shit, sucks to be you, heh heh."

Squall had left the Twin Lance by Rinoa's side. Gee, who knew a friendly game of cards could be so nasty all of a sudden? Jack turned over his and gawked.

"Level....3????" His eyes were scared, but his hand still fiercely gripped the gun. "Impossible. What are the odds?!?!"

"Not in your favor..." came a weak voice from under the table. A gunshot followed quickly, and a black bullet sank into Jack's chin and came out his right eye. His gun fell limply to the table, the safety still on, and his body crumpled over the chair and onto the floor. To Squall's surprise, the crowd cheered uproariously as the astute simolean slowly hobbled to his feet his glasses falling off his face. Smoke trailed lazily out of the barrel of his Colt. "Good job, Commander, wait to go."

Squall raised his eyebrows. "Are we done yet?"

A sexy tanned arm snaked around his shoulder and down his chest. "Not quite, hon." The voice was tantalizing and lyrical, and it was mixed with the sounds of catcalls and wolf whistles among the men-- and some of the women-- in the crowd. A tongue crept slowly into his ear, followed by the sweet sound of her voice again. "There are still two of us left before the King makes a presence sometime in the near future." After tickling the lobe of his ear with the tip of her tongue, he felt her small hand on his chin and his face was swivled over to meet hers. He had to say that he was excited. She had an hourglass figure with deep breasts, swaying hips, and curvy legs. Dressed in skimpy short shorts, a revealing tank top, and sporting thick blonde hair he was sad to admit that she blew Rinoa away in the looks department. He hoped against all hope that none of his friends saw him "rising" to the occasion.

Her hand continued exploring his chest. "They call me Diamond. Right hand girl to the Queen of Hearts. I'm sure... you won't go down.. without a fight.. huh babydoll?"

Huge choruses of snickers sounded all around him, and he just knew he was in trouble after this. "We've got a game to play don't we?" he asked in his most serious tone that he could possibly muster.

Her finger carved up the side of his neck and sunk into his open mouth and then popped back out. "We sure do." She curved past him, splattering him in her magnolia perfume and seated herself daintily in the seat paying no heed to the small bits of blood that had come from poor old Jack. "I promise babydoll I don't have a gun, even though by the looks of it you're sure sporting one more noticeable than your gunblade."

Everybody around him made it clear they knew what she meant, and he embarrassingly adjusted himself. The simolean frankly had never seen a girl this beautiful before, and it took him a while to get his bearings straight before approaching the table. "The cards are still Open, and Squall you still carry yours from the previous two matches. Now, there is an Elemental degree to the field. If your card has a magical element that matches the element hidden in this board, your card gains value in each compass points by 1. If the hidden elements do not match your card, all your numbers decrease by 1. For this special game, upon Miss Diamond's request, every card including yours Squall gets a magical element. Every block on this board has an element. What are they? I don't know... it's a secret."

"Secret... secret...secret..." the crowd chanted.

"I know what they are sugarplum," Diamond teased.

"What?" Squall asked.

"A girl always gets what she wants. I know what my cards are, and I know what's underneath these blocks. Oh, daddy, you look so cute when you're shocked at something." She laughed, reached over and played with his cheek causing him to redden again.

Yet.... The blushing stopped, and just before she reached for her cards, she neglected to complete the motion. "Rule 103!"

The crowd fell silent. All eyes snapped on him.

"Rule.... what?" the simolean asked, shocked.

"Rule 103. In the event, a player who causes tactical problems like knowing the mechanics of a particular match without the other playing knowing the same thing is automatically forced to accept a random deck."

Diamond looked pale, and the simolean looked impressed. Most of the crowd was impressed, although a few of them were a little confused. "Hm, Squall, I didn't think you read the rules to this game."

"Ah, now you misunderstand _me_. Without rules, there is no game. Give her a deck at random."

"Damn," Diamond muttered. "At least I still know the elements hidden here."

"Won't help if none of them matches, sweet lips."

She fiddled her mouth with a sly and sarcastic smile and accepted her cards. She frowned as she got three lower-tiers and two mid-levels: a Cockatrice at 6,1,2,6; a Grendel at 4,4,5,2; a Forbidden at 6,6,3,2; a Chimera at 7,6,5,3; and a Behemoth at 3,6,5,7. The magical elements were fire, fire, ice, water, and fire respectively. She prayed to Eden that the board was all fire, or most of it anyway.

Squall saw his Diablos was imbued in gravity, Angelo in ice, the Propagator in lightning, Trauma in water, and the Adamantoise in ice. The game wasn't entirely in his favor. Indeed, he could be looking at a loss. Well he was two games won... that had to convert to some type of prize, right?

"Gentlemen first, babydoll," she winked at him.

Squall could feel the heat singing him again, along with a horrible feeling for Rinoa's sake, but he somehow focused on the task before him. What to do? What to do? When she wasn't looking, he stole quick glances to guage her mindset. Focused solely on her looks, she didn't seem to register any intelligence, so he was okay in that department. He had a pretty good feeling about his Lightning-charge Propagator so he put that in the bottom left hand corner. A spark erupted off the table, and the card's value increased.

"Ho-ho! You found a match!" the simolean cried. Now the Propagator was well-fortified.

Diamond chuckled. "So sorry baby, so sorry." Squall's heart sank at her teasing bravado, as she put her Fire-induced Cockatrice right east of his Propagator. Yet, a nasty sound echoed at them, and the card lost value by 1 point on all sides. The 7 she thought she got sunk down to a 5, and both cards stayed put where they were. She glared at the simolean. "You said that space was a Fire slot!!"

The sim laughed. "I lied, sweetheart."

"So you don't know," Squall breathed.

"Babydoll, that's all part of the game."

"Maybe in corrupt Chinatown places in Deling City but not at the Garden."

"Nobody's perfect. You're turn sugar." She didn't say it with a tease or a wink. The game was really up in the air now.

Squall grew restless. He tempted the situation and put Angelo's ice magic on top of the Cockatrice to no avail. Luckily for him, despite the value drop he was able to overturn it. Diamond said nothing and only hoped that her guess was correct. It was... the Fire-induced Grendel made a spark on the table to the right side of the overturned Cockatrice, and the game was tied. Some of her sly teasing came back, and she playfully jabbed in his direction. He was seeing a lot of fire on this deck, but he had one ice card left-- that of the Adamantoise. He leaned back in his chair and heard the low murmurs and hushed whispers of his fans. It only made matters worse when she pulled down her tank top almost exposing some deep brown nipples. He was actually starting to sweat when he decided to lay the card above the Grendel. It would be a close number.

A spark. She stopped playing with her shirt, and the crowd fell silent. The cards turned colors, and the Adamantoise's value shot up by one. Four blues, one yellow. He rubbed his face hard to calm his nerves. She fixed her breasts up and pouted over spilt milk. She looked at her Behemoth card and wanted another fire slot-- since that was what she was feeling now. She saw Angelo had a weak western side and she smiled slightly and placed the Behemoth to the west of it. No matter the Gravity magic underneath, the Angelo card turned. Three Blues, three Yellows.

"Tied," the simolean stated the obvious. Chants of "Tied" rang throughout the crowd.

Well, two could play it safe. Squall put Diablos over the Behemoth to an easy win. Five blues, two yellow. Now she grew nervous, but he did too. The board was acting tricky, and they couldn't tell the direction in which it was going. Suddenly, she gave a lurch in her seat after studying the board a bit. She seemed really excited over something to Squall's dismay. She happily took her Ice-induced Forbidden card and placed it above the Adamantoise. "Yes," she screamed prematurely, "take that baby!"

It was a shocker to be true, for the slot was an Ice spell. Yet, there was no changing of colors. "Hey!" she screamed aghast. She pulled the simolean's jacket and stretched his puny weight over to her. "What gives?"

"Mistress Diamond, your southern value is one lower than his northern."

She looked again and saw that it was true. It was a 4 against a 5. Squall stifled a chuckle, put his useless Torama piece down and ended the game 6-3 in his favor.

She folded her arms, boosting her tits up to their fondest light. "Well played game, love," she winked at him. He was well aware of lecherous stares piercing all around him. "I guess we can work this out later somewhere private, hm?"

Squall looked to shuffle his cards away. "That sounds fun, but I'm already in enough trouble as it is."

"What's that girl in blue so special for anyway? What, is she waiting for a kiss by the _good prince_ to wake her up?"

He snapped cold eyes to her frosty remark, and she backed down immediately. His attention turned to the simolean. "This tournament is over with."

"Not yet, it's not..."

He wheeled around. The voice was unmistakable.

"Xu?" he asked bewildered, as she slowly leaned on her cane and walked towards the table. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, actually, myself, Quistis, Selphie, Zell and Irvine were watching you challenge the CC Troupe. Not bad, Mr. Squall. You do a mighty fine job."

Squall had stood, but the closer she came near him the sooner he slowly resumed back to seating. She was wearing very funny, very peculiar clothing. "Are....are you?"

She stood directly in front of him and put her hands on her hips. "I am the Queen of Hearts."

He actually gulped. A self-conscious thing he tried to tell himself.

"I used to be the King of the Troupe, until Doctor Kadowaki unseated me that is."

"Kadowaki's the King?"

"Not anymore. Somebody...else.. defeated her. She has since retired to more of a ... scouting position for young followers who seem.. destined to become the next King of the Troupe. We've had our eye on you for some time now, Commander. Too bad for the Jack scenario, but he was always a troublemaker. Club and Spade would challenge after our busty friend Diamond, but because of her conniving greed I think it's high time we end tonight's tournament with a little one-on-one between you and me."

Squall sighed. "Xu, it's awfully late now. I'm getting kind of tired."

She put a hand on his shoulder that was surprisingly weighted down. "We're doing a sudden death match... that doesn't involve an actual Russian Roulette thing."

"How's it go?" he asked after a couple seconds.

"Best person gets three points. We shall see who has the better luck. You or me." She booted Diamond out of the chair, and the simolean got out a special locked box and pulled out a deck of cards and fanned them out to his viewing. Inspecting them closely and then showing it to the both of them, he proceeded to shuffle madly. Minutes passed agonizingly before he finally clumped them in one big group.

"Lower tier is Levels 1-4," he said. "Middle tier is Levels 5-6. Upper tier is Levels 7-9. Special is Level A. Both of you pick a tier. Whichever one guesses correctly wins a point. If the two of you guess incorrectly, turn is discarded. Whoever gets three points first wins the round. Deal?"

"Deal," Xu said with a smile.

"Deal," Squall said glumly.

"Ladies first."

"Lower," she said.

"Middle," Squall said.

"Grat, Level 2."

Murmurs rose through the crowd, and Xu cracked her knuckles.

"One point goes to Heart. Commander, you choose first."

"Upper."

"Lower."

"Red Bat, Level 1. Point goes to Heart."

Even louder murmurs went around, but Squall kept his cool. There was something here, he could feel it.

"Miss Heart?"

"Middle," she said defiantly, arms crossed.

The simolean looked at him. Closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath, he said, "Special."

Xu looked at him like he was nuts, and so did everyone else.

"Ward, Level A. Point goes to Squall."

The crowd leapt out in ecstatic cheering, leaving Xu stunned at the result. Squall smiled; he had gotten her off-balance, and it was his turn. "Middle," he said before the sim could get to him.

Xu swallowed. "Upper."

"Elvoret, Level 6. Score tied 2-2."

Murmurs and cheers mixed together. What the hell was going to happen?

"Heart?"

Xu concentrated. "Special."

Squall grimaced; that's what he wanted. He sighed openly and said, "Lower."

"Propagator, Level 7. No point."

A collective sigh.

"Upper," Squall said.

"Lower," Xu said.

"Iron Giant, Level 5. No point."

Xu cracked her knuckles, and Squall shifted positions. Even the simolean got flustered. "Miss Heart?"

This time, Xu thought long and hard. She worked her mouth up in a tizzy and looked ready to burst inside. "Lower," she gasped.

All eyes turned to Squall. He squirmed a bit before the word "Middle" fluttered into existence.

The simolean pulled the card, looked at it long and hard and tossed it on the table. "PuPu. Level 5. Squall Leonhart beats the Queen of Hearts."

Silence reigned among them. Not the reaction Squall was expecting.

Xu looked at him and only smiled before getting up and walking away. The rest of the crowd followed suit, low murmurs tailing them as they left to bunk for the night down in the hulls. Some went to go check up on the Garden, while still others went to get some beer and cigarettes. The simolean put away the cards and the card table and then finally addressed Squall. "Congratulations, Commander. Soon. Very soon. The King will come to you." With that he departed, too.

Squall sat alone in his chair on the outside deck, as the night's cool air started to chill his skin.

"Son of a fucking bitch," he snorted slamming his fist hard on the armchair. "What a waste of time."

A movement caught his eye, and he saw someone duck behind a porthole and then scamper down into the hull. A person wearing funny colors and a funny hat. Squall looked in that general direction and wondered what the hell was going on. Were people spooked in the aftermath of the battle or something? People hardly turned a blind eye to the death of the Jack character? Then again, he tried to kill him as well. _Shit.. all of this doesn't make any sense._

One thing he knew: it was fucking cold out on this deck.

He got up, shook off the uncomfortable feeling and went to check on poor Rinoa.

* * *

The dog was sleeping again, and he knelt quietly by Rinoa's side. To no avail, of course. That mutt had Squall pegged quite easily. He basically lolled over and rubbed up against the gunblader's leg. Squall ruffled his mane, and the pooch went to sleep. He then sadly turned his attention back to her.

He thrust the incident with Diamond out of his head and bathed in the true natural beauty of Rinoa Heartilly, even if she was as cold as a block of ice. He reached out and touched her forehead, expecting her to react to his warmth.

Nothing.

He was on the verge of tears, and there was nothing he could to do to stop them. He let them flow.

Edea couldn't do anything... or at least she didn't know _what_ to do at least.

His hand softly curled down her cheek and her ear. "You were so full of life," he heard himself say. "Rinoa....are... are you going to be like this forever."

He checked her nose once more and felt her soft breath flow out the nostrils. He wiped the flow from his cheeks and jerked his head from left to right. "Isn't there _anything_ I can do? You were so full of life! Happy, care-free, looking to give everybody a little bit... of.. your happiness, too." He gazed upon her for a long time. "I understand now. I understand you now." _Shit. This is like talking to a wall._ "Rinoa. Call me. Hear my voice. Say something."

Nothing.

He held onto the silence as long as he could, before he expelled a deep, deep breath.

His eyes shot open. Interference? The lights dimmed, the walls moved closer, and then... _Oh no!_.. that agony... that piercing shriek!

"Ellone?" he said weakly. A white light whiplashed him, and he fell by Rinoa's hip and dreamt once more.

**

* * *

Second Author's Note: **This is the best way I could incorporate the game of Triple Triad. Really, how would this gooberish game play out in words anyway? I dunno... I did the best I could. Happy readings. ACJ


	27. Dragonheart

**Author's Note: **Hey readers, my apologies for not updating quicker. Blame Vancouver and rowdy old Canada for sashaying me away to Never-NeverLand. Quick question: Why does the US suck balls at curling? Man John Schuster was embarrassing. And somebody's marrying that prick? Whatever. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and enjoy the one glaring change that I have done in this novel. I'm sure you'll find it surprising.

ACJ

DRAGONHEART

The continent of Trabia was experiencing a rough snowstorm, and the bluffs off the coast of Ithius were spraying with high foams of cold water. The sky was dark and layered with confusing squall patterns, and thin sheathes of snow and sleet zigzagged to the green soil in an unrelenting effort. The three former Galbadian soldiers had wrapped themselves as warmly as they could, while still making their weapons capable of firing off a shot if worse came to worse.

Ward's throat scar was acting up against the cold, and he had to endure an uncomfortable feel of three scarves covering his body. He had managed a smaller anchor piece from a thrifty Ithian dealer, whom had been the most friendliest to them after the Moomba release from the colliseum that still had the majority of the town in a blasted funk. Even with false threats of a Galbadian offensive against the city, no Ithian official looked to see if that threat was true. Kiros had bought some new knives and a versatile sai that were cleaner, brighter and more brutal for dicing bodies apart. Laguna had bought an Ithian-patented Kalishnakov rifle and several hundred rounds of ammunition. That was pretty much all he and the others could carry, for the clothing constituted the bulk of their toils.

The goal at hand was to head for Trabia City, a course deemed roughly eighty miles east-northeast of Ithius. There was a rough ridge that ran between the rugged mountain peaks and the icy beaches called the Highland Pass; however, the torrential snowpour had covered much of the Pass from view, and the primitive markers lining the edges were mostly useless. If they could traverse that and reach the city, the Dragon Forest waited and Camp Ghast within. Ghast was the focal point of Trabian-Estharian contact and trade route, and it would allow them access to the Estharian continent. Whether Kiros was aware of it or not-- Ward was busy minding his throat and the heavy bastard weapon on his back to pay any heed-- Laguna was carrying a map of the continent in his hand. Their fate rested in his hands.

It was about an hour from the city of Ithius before Kiros became aware. Laguna was holding the map with the eastern direction pointing to the north.

Kiros let out a contemptible sigh and trudged with deep footprints in the snow over to the goofy leader. Laguna was scrunching up his nose and licking his lips, when a dark hand snatched the map away-- ripping it slightly at the edges.

"Whoa!" Laguna cried. "Don't go rippin that thing like a bad DJ now."

Ward made a puzzled sound and raised his eyebrows.

"I don't know what the fuck that means," Kiros started, "but I do know something else." He held the map in the air. "You know cartography about as much as I know quantum physics!"

"What's cartography?" Laguna asked in a serious tone.

"Jeezum Crow, Laguna, we started heading east, actually kinda southeast almost to the ocean. Now....holy shit... Laguna we've been going north for the past forty minutes... now we're going west!!"

Ward delivered what would've been a shout, and part of his scarves tilted downwards exposing his skin to the frigid temperatures. He made continuous noises of all sorts while attempting to fix his predicament.

Laguna walked over to Kiros. "What are you talking about?"

Kiros smacked the back of Laguna's head. "Look at the map." His gloved finger traced the route that he speculated they had taken. "Here's Ithius. Here's Trabia City. Here's the Highland Pass. It's a straight shot due northeast between the mountains and the sea. _You_," he jabbed his finger in Laguna's chest," you walked us on the Pass up to this big tall tree marker here and sent us north."

"But the map makes some northward gestures on the Pass."

"Not all the way, dude. It _still_ goes northeast."

"Ah, but _north_east, Kiros. _North_east."

Kiros smacked his forehead and shook his head.

"How are we going west now?"

Kiros smacked the center of the map hard with his finger. "See this forest.. this... Gremlin Forest?"

"Yeah," Laguna said with a long lazy drawl.

Kiros dropped the map down and pointed sharply at the large blueish-green forest directly in front of them.

"Oh," Laguna said, his voice trailing to a whisper. He stared at the forest as if expecting some overarching answer to eschew out of it.

"Great fucking god, Laguna! We've covered at least ten miles in an all-encompassing overpass from the path we're supposed to take."

"Hey... at least it's a bonding experience, right?"

Ward snorted.

"Like attaching you to a pole, bonding flammable cords around you and setting you ablaze?" The brown eyes were glaring.

"Eesh..." Laguna said, taking a step back.

Ward sneezed, followed by another. Wet, sloppy boogers mixed in gobs of snot coated his lips and chin and plastered against his scarves.

"Holy shit!" Kiros laughed. "Someone needs a handkerchief!"

Ward gave him a steely gaze, wiped as much snot off him and flung it at the chortling dagger wielder who couldn't miss it all the way through.

"Hey!" Laguna asked, his face brightening up against the snow. "Think it's warmer inside that forest?"

"What... like a couple degrees warmer?"

"Hey, that's _warmer_ right?" He bluntly made his way for it.

Kiros rubbed at his face angrily. "Oh my fucking---" He shook his head vigorously and ran after him. Ward flicked the last of the green goo off of his chin and followed the two of them into the woods.

"Hey, hey, downer!" Laguna laughed. "It _is_ warmer in here... by _more_ than a few degrees, too!" He danced around like an idiot, laughing hysterically, before his foot hit something and he almost fell on his ass.

Ward and Kiros slowly walked up to him, and all three beheld the severed skull that Laguna had tripped over. The large bone had been stripped of all flesh, yet a rancid decay still remained within the eye sockets and parts of the teeth. "Yeah..." Kiros said uncertainly, eyes darting around, "it's warm... and totally safe."

Laguna got out his rifle, and Ward ignored his throat long enough to grab the handle of his anchor piece. "Well," Laguna started, "how about we rest and recoup our joints and blood muscles a bit, eh?"

"Blood muscles?"

"You know... that muscle that controls... uh.. the blood movement thingy."

"Our hearts?"

"Yeah, those things." Laguna sat on the warm earth and pondered why it was balmy in here and frigid out there. He rest his head in his free hand and thought.

"Laguna, I don't think it's quite safe here," Kiros said, as a shadow coasted in front of them somewhere inside the thick foliage. A ratchet of noises sounded nearby.

"That's what you said last time when we were at Centra."

"Uh.. yeah... and was it safe?"

"To a point."

"What do you think, Ward?" Kiros asked, looking at the large man. Ward barely acknowledged that. His eyes narrowed in on something that looked scaly and brown. A flash of orange bulbous eyes flittered at them for a mere second before disappearing once more. He took off the anchor on his back and looked menacingly at the forest. Kiros shifted back to that direction and glanced briefly at Laguna. The man was still pondering stupidly on his ass, with the Kalishnakov lazily resting in his lap. "Laguna, seriously, we should be going now."

"Damn, you're such a big baby, Kiro--"

Something roared loudly and attempted to crash through the trees into their sights, but the Kalishnakov sounded furiously and sprayed ten bullets into the distorted face of the brown creature. Black blood coated two tree trunks, and the creature's head split into three chunks. The mangled lifeless body fell hard into some stumpy bushes, and the forest was deathly silent for a moment.

Smoke lazily trailed out of Laguna's gun, and the man himself was literally surprised. The barrel had been pointing slightly at his own face, as he had lazily kept it in a precarious position on his lap. The crashing sound in the brush had triggered a literal knee-jerk reaction, and his finger had miraculously found the trigger. He looked at his companions who viewed him in astonishment and disbelief.

"Well, fellas, I do believe I've shit my pants," he humorously acknowledged.

"I know," Kiros nodded, "I can smell it from here."

Ward kept the anchor out and walked slowly to the mangled corpse, while Laguna reloaded a new full clip. The big man grabbed the flaccid clawarm of the beast and dragged the creature out.

"The hell is that thing?" Laguna asked.

"Gee..." Kiros snorted, "let me get out my encyclopedia of fauna, flora and bestial knowledge out here."

"You have one?" Laguna asked seriously, drawing a concerned look from Kiros.

Ward kicked at the carcass and pursed his lips. The creature was a small brown demon with layers of horned rims lining its back. It had orange pupils for eyes that were now dessicated and turning a sickly yellow. A rotten smell came from its maw, and several teeth were blackened and yellowed from past instances of gorging food. It also had a bright red stomach that equally smelled bad. It did not appear to have external genitalia, which only meant that it was mating season and the females of these species were in "prime" condition.

"Great shit, that smells!" Laguna laughed.

Ward snorted and kicked the dead creature away.

"Yeah, dude, it's almost covering up yer shit-stained drawers!" Kiros chuckled.

Laguna sniffed and found that to be positively true and smiled appreciatively. "Hey, maybe this little thing is a gremlin. Y'know, since this is the Gremlin Forest."

Ward shook his head. Kiros looked at Laguna. "You come up with that all by yourself?"

"Like you knew." Laguna stood up carefully and rested the Kalishnakov gently on his shoulder. "Well... I'm feeling pretty warm now. We should probably---"

Another gremlin crashed through the forest, followed by three others. Five more scissored through on Ward's side creating a half-moon sickle cutting off their exit of the forest. Alive, the creatures were worse than in death; they smelled incredibly bad in a congregation. They wasted no time in attacking, and they surprised Kiros and Laguna before the two former soldiers could attack in defense. Ward managed to cleave the jumping creatures with a massive swing of his anchor, but several pounced him and drove him to the ground. Gunfire from the Kalishnakov splattered the cleaved bodies of the two that jumped him and sprayed into three more. He expelled a full clip and only succeeded in killing one of them. The remaining six chowed down on him, biting his arms, legs and chest. Kiros kicked the legs out of one of the gremlins, received a gash across his lower back, and decapitated one gremlin attempting to bite his throat. The fresh clean blades successfully cut up four more gremlins, before he lost his balance. Ward grabbed the last gremlin in a tight grip and slammed the anchor down hard in the face, splattering the black blood everywhere in the dirt.

The three men gasped and swore and tried to plug their wounds as best they could. Their bulky clothing was not helping the situation, and the faeries weren't necessarily running strong at the moment.

Laguna crawled around on his stomach, taking in the stench of his own body mixed with the stench of almost a dozen creatures decapitated and maimed all around him. He was about to retch when a flash of orange and red came across his eyes. A distinct squawk that could only be that of a Moomba reached his ears. Several more Moombas tailed after their leader, and before the three men knew it they were being hauled up and carried out of the forest. Some of the creatures were sniggering at the men's dispositions. A strange colorful caravan shone brightly against the snow and dark cloud-cover. To Laguna's surprise, bright yellow Chocobos were at the reins. The Moombas hauled Laguna and Kiros easily onto the crate hull; and, somehow, all twelve of them managed to haul up Ward's weight into the hull. The caravan swooped a little low to the soil, and the hooded driver barely was able to get the Chocobos to move. The Moombas followed closely behind the caravan, keeping eye on the hull and the surroundings, and the troupe made a swift trek westward to string of three islands called Nagansett.

* * *

"Holy shit!" Laguna yelled. "It's a pod-thing."

"A what?" Kiros asked.

"A pod-thing. A thing that looks like a pod." The dumbfounded former soldier craned his neck past the giggling Moombas at the bottom of the cargo hull and out for a better look at a massive... indeed pod-like... structure centered inside a crude bazaar and residential district on a large island. Two other smaller islands were visible behind the closest one. A rickety wooden walkway connected the continent land with that of the island.

"Whoa nelly," Laguna said amazed, and a bit stupidly. "What is that place?"

"Dadanga," the driver of the caravan said in a sickly voice.

"Dadanga," Kiros repeated. "That name sounds familiar. Is this the place of the Shumi?"

"Indeed, Master Kiros. The Artisan knows you, Master Ward, and Master Laguna. You three'll be quite welcome as well as quite recouperated."

Kiros nudged Laguna. "Try not to screw up. Act nobly like you did back at the Ithian Civic Center." He ignored Laguna's rolling eyes and took a sniff. "Wow, our little battle has totally covered you in numerous scents."

"Sounds like business as usual," Laguna chuckled.

The cargo hull's door slid down to the green earth, and the Moombas crowded around Laguna and Kiros and gently lifted them down. With Ward, though, one of the poor Moombas had his leg crushed accidentally when the crowd of them lost their grip on the big man. Somehow, they freed the little Moomba and mended his limb and then hauled the big man over to the other two. The wooden bridge was swaying hard against the wind, and the water looked icy cold. Three Moombas each kept behind both Laguna and Kiros and steadily pushed them on. Five stayed behind Ward, and a sixth slowly walked behind the whole group, radioing in on a small comlink and generally watching the whole scene. Somehow, the whole group made it through without falling into the brink.

The pod-like structure had a glass ceiling painted in beautiful shimmering colors that glowed with each passing cloud. Intricate religious carvings collided with high-tech gadgetry in the building itself, and the three former soldiers oohed and aahed as the Moombas worked the controls and opened the hatch doors. The earth sunk almost as if into a tomb when they walked inside and an actual treetrunk was growing in the far end of the room. They were brought into an elevator and descended down many stories. All three of them widened their eyes when the shaft doors opened revealing a very bright light mixed with the sounds of springtime.

"What the..." Kiros started to say.

"It's a city within a city," Laguna cried, amazed.

Ward made a gasping sound and trudged forward into the lead, alarming his Moomba escorts. All around the underground forestry city hundreds of Shumi muddled around and took great notice of the three newcomers. Some even clapped their hands with joy. A crowd gathered around the injured men, and each felt large hands caressing their shoulders and the sounds of chants correllating up into the air. One distinctive Shumi elder, whom they recognized immediately, made his way through the crowd. The Artisan was just as stately as ever, and his uniform was stained with clay. It appeared that he was going along with the plan to make a statue of Laguna.

"Master Laguna, goodness, goodness, the Moombas were telling us all about what happened."

"Ah, it was nothing, sir. We took care of the animals."

"Have you tried standing up to your full height, Master Laguna?"

Laguna started to nod his head, until he realized that he was bending forward and had been the entire time. Uncertain about what lay ahead, he slowly straightened his back until a horrible pain convulsed his body and he collapsed to the floor. Weird sounds curled from his mouth, and both Kiros and Ward exchanged looks. The Shumi actually chuckled at the poor man, and the Moombas helped him up wiping as much blood away as they could.

"Don't worry, Masters," the Artisan said, "Medic will heal you all. Please, Moombas, escort them this way."

All around, various chants and lyrics soothed their ears, and the three of them were admitted into a small clinic room, and one Shumi named Medic helped relieve them of their pain. It took roughly an hour, and every injury was cast away.

To the best of their knowledge they didn't realize how much time flew by. They knew they had a job to do: to find Ellone. Yet, the majesty of Dadanga was too much to pass on, and their hosts were exuberantly friendly. At least a week of fresh organic food and folksy dance ate up a great deal of their time. They were shown around the intricate layout of the underground city and learned that the bazaar up above in the cold exterior of Nagansett was just for show. The traders of the world left their wares with the Tataki people who camoflauged in the snow, and the Moombas would crawl up and take the wares themselves, reimbursing the Tataki with food grown in the actual city itself. The temperate climate was created by something called magicka, and there were plenty of orbs to be seen. The main Elder of Dadanga instructed all three of them in performing blizzard and fire magic of the basic kind, and all the Shumi laughed when the three of them burned themselves and then froze their fingers off. Horrified at the mangling of their bodies, they were even more astonished when some of the Shumi cast Cure spells on their bodies. The amazing purple liquid shot across their bloodied and fragmented skin and replenished them back whole. All three former soldiers thought their hearts had stopped from shock; the Galbadians never used these weapons before, it was utterly unbelievable.

The Shumi knew better than to give them their ultra magic: the Meteor spells, the Gravity spells, Flare spells, and the big daddy Ultima spell. Eden knew what the hell would happen then. After two days of experimenting, the Shumi were certain that the three most basic offensive spells-- Blizzard, Fire and Thunder-- were safe in the men's hands. They also gave them Cure and Cura and thought about Curaga, but after Laguna's miscarriage of justice with the bigger spell, they thought against it. They also gave them the two Shield magics: Protect and Shell, and they figured the three goobers were set solid.

While Kiros busied himelf grafting fire magic to one dagger knife and thunder to the other, he simultaneously grafted ice to his sai and then set about with some Moombas out to a training pen where a couple live Gremlins were milling about. It turned out that some of the Moombas were fierce fighters and could easily corral an unsuspecting putrid Gremlin. The Shumi thought the disgusting horned creatures a gorgeous delicacy and loved to pick their teeth with the severed horns. The Moombas opened the gate, and the two Gremlins inside snarled angrily at Kiros who looked at them slyly daggers poised brimming with magic. One of the Gremlins stupidly pounced forward, and Kiros dove to the floor corkscrewed around and underneath the beast. The fire dagger split open the Gremlin's belly, curling the rotten skin in flaming pieces, while the thunder dagger snaked up and slit the bastard's throat in an electrifying snap. The Gremlin split into four large chunks and splashed the ground in a nasty black stew. The second Gremlin whimpered at first and then took off. Kiros whipped the sai off and plunged the ice-covered blade into the creature's skull, stopping its lifeforce brutally swift. The sai's exit made a terrific squelch, and the Gremlin collapsed to the ground. Kiros bowed, and the Moombas cheered. Magic was just as good as the faeries.

Ward didn't really care too much for the magic, for his huge-ass anchor really took care of a great deal. He had found something more interesting: a voice box over in the marketplace. A curious Shumi walked up to him, and even though he was taller than 6' he still had to crane up at the man who was eight inches taller than that. "Find something you like, Master Ward?" he asked in a gentle voice.

Ward stared at the box and nodded. It was a small oval-shaped electronic assembly metallic grey in color and with two green buttons on the front end. He pulled down the collar on his shirt to reveal his scarred neck.

"My, my that's a nasty mark. Whoever patched you up didn't do a good job, too."

Ward grunted and looked down with sad, acknowledging eyes.

"None to worry, Master Ward. If you want, we can try to see if we can patch that up. You might sound a bit funky... like a long-time smoker with a hole in their throat.. but you'll be able to make yourself heard."

At that the big man's eyes brightened, and that was all the Shumi needed to hear. He called some others to join him, and they escorted Ward over to a chair and applied sedatives in him to calm his nerves down. His neck and lower face went numb, and a fat Shumi came to his side and started making incisions in his skin. A drilling needle and cloths applied soon afterwards, followed by the shiny voice box itself. Ward Zabac widened his eyes at the whole process, and all he felt was an occasional bump and nudge down below his upper jaw. One of the Shumis stuck a strange device in his cheek, and he felt some strange soothing liquid inject into his bloodstream and collect around the voice box now snug firmly in his throat. A strange synergy erupted in his upper body, and he felt a new enlightenment caress him.

The Shumi had stepped back, and he slowly stood up and felt a little dizzy.

"How do you feel, Master Ward?"

Ward opened his mouth but only emitted unintelligible grunts. His mouth had an acidic taste, and there was a strange lump in the back of his throat.

"Push the top green button to talk."

Ward looked down and widened his eyes at the seamless surgery. The oval box was just barely sticking out of his skin. Only the two green buttons reached out further. Slowly he pushed the top button, and the acidic taste was gone. He felt his brain react instantly. "F--F-Fine--oh!" He gasped, and the Shumi did, too, for he had said it quite loud and the speakerphone on the box was out of tune. Tears started streaming from his eyes, and he was beside himself. One Shumi came, reached up on his toes, and fiddled with the second button.

"Try it now," he said.

Ward pushed the top button and ignored for the most part the weird tinny sound it made. "I... cannot believe it!" He was actually talking once more. He couldn't stop himself from crying.

"What the?" a voice called behind them all.

They turned to see a shocked Kiros walking up to them, jaw practically on the ground. "How did--?"

Ward pushed his button. "Look... Kiros...I'm talking again." The big man was choking on his tears, but it was incredible. His old original voice could be heard in the inflections over the raspy defibrillator, but that was beside the point. The dagger wielder came over and gave the guy a big hug, but had to pry himself away when Ward was squeezing just a bit too tight.

"This _is_ incredible!" Kiros exclaimed with more joy than he had felt in a long, long time. Ward could only shake his own head in amazement, and he fingered the new box lovingly.

"What's going on?"

"Master Laguna, we have aided your loyal companion."

Laguna trotted along bewildered with some oblique type of sword stuck on his hip. The minute he saw the voice box in Ward's throat, he gasped.

Ward pushed his button. "Hi, Laguna."

The man fainted, and the Shumi rushed to revive him. When he came to, he looked at Ward and almost fainted again, but he held on. "Th-This is incredible! Ward, ol buddy, I'd never thought I'd live to see this miracle!"

"Me neither," the big man said.

"I thought only Esthar had that possible technology," Kiros noted.

"That's where we got it from," the Shumi merchant said. "The Tataki haggled them for a good price, and we were able to secure it firmly in our stash. Many people like Master Ward have been thrust into that nasty predicament because of this Sorceress War going on. We hope to supply the whole western continent with these voice boxes."

"How... can we ever repay you?" Ward asked.

"No, no, no, Master Ward. You three have a solid place in our hearts. It is extremely rare and very special to run across humans that care about the world around them. Please, accept all our gifts free of charge and with the warmest of hearts."

"That is very kind of you," Kiros said.

"Indeed. Very kind," Laguna said.

"How are you coming along with that blade, Master Laguna?"

"Oh..." the former soldier said looking at his scabbard. "I much prefer a machine gun, but there's something about this thing that's pretty cool."

"What is it?" Ward asked.

Both he and Kiros let out another gasp as Laguna unsheathed a most incredible and ugly weapon of a blade. It was a dark green sabre with a strange gun assembly cocked near the hilt. An actual guard, barrel, chamber, trigger and hilt accompanied it. It looked lightweight, though, compared to the mechanisms stuck on it.

"What... is... that thing?" Kiros said carefully, roaming his eyes over all parts of it.

"_This_," he took a minute to look it over himself. It was kind of a shoddy piece of work. "This is a gunblade."

"A what?"

"It is a piece of Estharian technology that has made its way to western military units, Master Kiros," the Shumi merchant explained. "It is very difficult to handle properly and very difficult to make sometimes, too, at least for Master Laguna here." The whole Shumi crowd laughed, while Laguna dumbly looked at his crude creation. "The gun assembly contains special bullets that once triggered ricochets off the blade with extra power and speed and can really cause a devastating blow in...well.. whatever is your opponent I guess."

The gunblade Laguna had in his hands didn't look too sturdy. "This I call Hyperion," he said proudly. "Hopefully it'll work."

"Why Hyperion?"

"I dunno, it sounded cool. Plus green's my favorite color... although blue's pretty cool, too. Like the color of Raine's......eyes." His voice trailed off on the last word, and he held the blade awkwardly in his hand.

"Laguna, Laguna," Kiros soothed coming up to him, "she'll be there when we get back. Right after we find Elle."

"Yeah, I know."

"Test out.. this gunblade," Ward said.

The Shumi made timid noises and slowly backed out of the way, causing Ward to let out a metallic giggle. Kiros mimiced the movements as Laguna began to brighten a bit and focus on arming the tricky blade. He pretended a Gremlin was in front of him, levelled the sword and fired. A piece of energy shell snaked down the blade and fired off the tip striking hard into the base of a tree, leaving a small blue splattering on the bark.

The Shumi around them scuttled and blubbered. Ward widened his eyes, and Kiros kept his mouth agape. The hinge on the assembly of Hyperion started to teeter off, and all the shells spilled out to the floor. Laguna looked sheepishly at them all. "I made the other one a bit better, but I'm not necessarily awed by these things."

"Where's the other one?" Kiros asked.

"In the shop. It's a double-bladed one with a special coating on it from one these little purple unicorn things. It held up pretty good."

".....Why didn't you test out that one?"

"It was too heavy."

"Oy," said one of the Shumi, feeling his arm, "_very_ heavy, oy."

Laguna shrugged and handed the Shumi the gunblade for repairs. "I'll just be using a machine gun. I have a feeling these... gunblades won't be used very much in the future anyway. Anybody who uses them must be an egghead or something."

Kiros and Ward laughed, and he started as well until a quick sharp pain smacked in the back of his head.

"You ok?" Kiros asked.

Laguna rubbed the back of his head-- it wasn't like the faeries to get _that_ upset. He saw Kiros and Ward slowly understand what it could have been, and he just shrugged it off. "We should probably get going, ya know."

"Master Laguna," the Artisan bellowed, walking up to the group. "Please, please take the Chocobos in the pen. Eden knows what adventures you would have without them. The Chocobos know the way to Trabia City."

"Laguna," Kiros said sternly.

"Of course, of course. No maps, right?"

"No maps, Master Laguna, no maps."

* * *

The squawks were loud and startled them at first, but the three men on their Chocobos got used to them rather quickly as the fluffy bird-horses trotted across the snowblown soil. Indeed, they knew the way by heart, as there was a breeding forest to the northwest of Trabia City on the southernmost bank of the Cypress Lagoon. Luckily for the trio, the Shumi had one chubby Chocobo that could just barely contain Ward's girth. The other two Chocobos didn't stray too far and always kept a close on their panting friend in the back.

Ward had refused the magical orbs, having a virtual distrust for the arcane stories back in the Galbadian military and having a more detestable attitude now in the present. Kiros had fallen in love with just these basic forms of supernatural jazz, and Laguna wasn't quite sure if he fully knew how to work it. Well, he didn't fully know how to work it, but he was game for almost anything. The Shumi had called him a Dragonheart, because he poured everything out from his heart, nothing from his ass, and very mixed logic from his brain. A strong and patriotic man that definitely needed an advisor to sort his ideas out.

The Chocobos made them keep quiet across the trip with occasional squawks, knowing that the three men were quite honestly doofuses who could get lost at the drop of a hat. Good enough, for the scenery was beautiful, and the wind had died leaving a moderately cool climate and crystal clear surroundings. The Gremlins were all in the forests, and the Mesmerizes (those little purple unicorn things) were sparsely wandering the plains-- however, they didn't appreciate the company of the Chocobos and usually fled the scene. No signs of dragons, however they stayed in the Lagoon or near the edge of Trabia and Esthar. So, the men had a pleasant, bumpy-free ride.

Trabia was a beautiful continent when the sun was out, the winds were dead, and the snow was tamed on the ground. It was the second jagged landmass in the world; nothing compared to Centra, however, most people failed to recognize the beauty of the northern fjords of Trabia where the waters of the Cypress Lagoon flowed out of and where many arcane creatures dwelled around. Some foreigners considered the inhabitants of the continent to be crazy people-- the human at least-- for putting up with the abominable climate changes and the denizens that lived there, but they wouldn't say it straight to their face. There was a majestic quality to the land that beckoned excitement and sheer admiration. The mountain range was the only drawback, for in certain areas there was a rank smell that was not exactly travel bureau potential. It was difficult to pinpoint an exact range, for the wind played tricks on the noise and moved the smell into larger and larger areas. However, after careful observation the three former soldiers were able to spot greenish-yellow stains on the mountain peaks that looked like the acid rain stains on Galbadia City's coal factories. The smell was different, suggesting some demon beast had caused the anomaly. Besides that, though, the rest of the continent was nice enough.

The trek lasted almost four hours, and it was hard to eat the interesting Shumi food while riding on the broad back of the Chocobo. Not that the food was any good either, especially when potatoes looked purple. The Chocobos gave a squawk, louder than their previous ones, alerting them to a sprawling town nestled in the heart of a valley with the mountain range looming in the background. A rough estimate of five thousand houses with small gardens in their yards made up the front end. Some business shops and religious temples made the center, and farm lots made up the back. There were no electrical plants or any other sources of power, except a few windmills splattered around the edges.

"Reminds me of Winhill," Laguna said solemnly. His eyes widened when he realized he had said it out loud.

Kiros only shook his head, while Ward trotted his Chocobo out a little ways to get a better look. He scanned the northeastern section and pointed. "I.. think that's the forest over there."

"I think you're right," Kiros said. "Shall we go?"

A loud squawk answered him, and his Chocobo made a small rearing motion trying to jostle the dagger figher off of him.

"Heh," Laguna laughed, "I think these little buggers have us at the end of their road."

"Little buggers?" Kiros asked, getting off the bird-horse.

"Isn't that what Delingers say?"

"Oh, you're a Deling fanboy now, huh?"

Laguna made a face and got off his. When Ward did, as well, the three Chocobos squawked happily and trotted off together to find their respective mates. The three men watched them leave and felt a pang of unhappiness hit them. They had a job to do, though, and they were wasting time drinking in the sight of the Trabian mountains.

* * *

Most of the villagers were busying themselves in their gardens harvesting their foods while the temperature was gentle, and they paid the three men no heed. Naturally, after the insatiable food they had eaten Laguna, Kiros and Ward felt like downing some beer, so they hit up the nearest pub in the residential neighborhood. The owner was swamped with orders, yet he managed to give them a correct response and before long, all three of them were downing some hearty adult beverages.

"Why are we always sidetracked?" Ward asked. The metallic voice initially disturbed some people, but they were getting drunk anyway and they soon enough paid no attention.

"Who knows, man?" Laguna responded happily. "We need the hearth anyway."

"The hearth?"

"Let him alone, man," Kiros said, pawing the table, "he's gone."

Ward laughed, taking another big gulp. "And so are you."

"And so am I."

The door opened, and two people walked in. A dorky rail-thin man with a video camera seemingly pasted to his shoulder, and a very beautiful hourglass brunette wearing a V-cut white dress and red shawl. She looked a little cold and bit standoffish, yet most of the men in that pub weren't staring at her for that reason. Most of the bar patrons were either sleeping on the banister, shooting pool, shooting the shit in deep conversations, or doing nothing but staring at the girl. The dorky guy stood near the door for a few seconds before spotting what he came in there for. He walked right up to Laguna, bypassing a waitress, and set his camera down by Laguna's glass. The former soldier took a second to react, and he let out a belch by accident. The girl huffed and shook her head haughtily.

"May (hic) we help you?" Kiros asked, woozily.

"Why, of couse, gents!" the dorky man yelled. Some patrons hiccupped in response and then went back to their drinks. "I have been looking all over for men like you. Wise men, strong men, men that can get things done."

The three former soldiers slowly looked at each and then slowly looked back at the dude.

"What do ya say, gents? Do you want to take life by the throes? Do you want to change the world? Do you want to fulfill your wildest fantasies? Do you w--"

"Do you want to hurry this up, because some people like to be in warmer climates than this?" the girl said snottily, tossing back her hair with emotion.

The three men looked back and forth between the two and still couldn't put the pieces together.

"Come on, gents, come make a movie with me!"

The three men slowly looked at each other longer this time and then trailed back to him again.

The girl sighed.

"A movie?" Laguna asked.

"Absolutely. A movie, absolutely! What dya say?"

"What's this... movie about?" Ward asked.

The dorky man cringed. "Ooh, no, no, no. You can't be the main lead, not with that voice!"

"Definitely not," the girl agreed, wrinkling up her nose.

Ward slammed his glass hard on the table and made to get up, but his seat in his chair was at an awkward position. His movement caused only one bar patron to stare briefly. The girl backed away immediately, and the dorky guy looked ready to shit his pants.

"Smooth move, exlax," Kiros belched.

"Well, that's an easy mark to not make for the lead. Oh, and no offense to you, sir," the dorky guy addressed Kiros, "but the role requires good looks for the play."

Kiros smoldered in his seat.

"Oh, and no offense either, but I don't like dark meat," the girl whispered.

Kiros looked up at her sharply and then his eyes widened. So did Ward's. Laguna had been fading in and out of the conversation, but then he slowly came to realize just what the hell was being implied.

"You are just the man for the job," the dorky guy smiled, clapping his hand on Laguna's shoulder. The touch was extremely unsettling.

"I guess. Better than the last one," the girl said with a shrug.

Laguna straightened up as best as he could and took a look at the girl. He had to admit that the girl was pretty hot. She reminded him of Raine for a minute, although this girl was a little more filled out in certain areas. Was he about ready to do..._that_.. with her? That thought didn't seem appealling... well.. it did.. but not, considering Raine was still around and alive.

He must've been doing something weird in his Laguna-way, for she gave a revolted shrug. "This one's a lush or something. Ugh, Skip, just send me a stunt double when we get back to Dollet. Do some things with the green screen down there, too."

"Fine, fine, fine," the dorky man apparently named "Skip" conceded. "Young man," Skip said, his hand still on Laguna's shoulder, "will you please just do the talking parts up here in this bee--utiful city?"

"We're trying to get into Esthar, sir," Laguna managed to say. The faeries inside his head were mixing into the booze, and he felt like total horseshit.

"Esthar!" Skip exclaimed, louder than was necessary but nobody was paying too much attention. "Wow, now that's a shithole country right there. Yo gotta deathwish or sometin?"

"We're going (hic) there to retrieve a little girl who was sent to become a successor to Adel."

"Ah, I see. Poor thing. Well, anyway, spend a few minutes with us. You'll be sure ta have a good time! Be sure to take some souveniers along with ya to this meetin place in Estha!"

"Souveniers?"

"Mags, vids, special products, all endorsed by the finest named brands."

The girl yawned.

"I'm afraid we'll have to pass," Kiros said with emphasis. Ward folded his arms across his chest and grunted angrily.

Skip reached into grungy coat pocket and pulled out a yellowed bag. "How's about some hefty gil for yer troubles?" He held the bag out in front of them and jiggled the coins within. "A nice reward for yer troubles. Make do pretty well when ya get to Estha."

They had wasted all their gil from their spendings in Winhill, Galbadia, Ithius and here at this pub. They believed they also had an unpaid debt hiding around somewhere.

"How long will (hic) this take," Laguna asked.

"Just a day, Herr Mistress here doesn't particularly like the cold weather up here yonder."

"It's revolting!" the girl said squeamisly. Some of the ogling patrons were making her uncomfortable.

Laguna looked at his friends, and they looked quite pissed and exasperated at the same time. This trip from Winhill was getting curioser and curioser by the day.

"Sure (hic)," Laguna said, "we'll work for you for a little while today."

"Good, but take these," Skip said handing each of them a vial with green liquid.

"The hell is this shit?" Ward asked.

"An accelerated hormone rehabilitation quadrulator."

The three of them looked at the dorky man blankly.

"Great grandmas, why is every knucklehead I meet so dense. It's basically a drug that knocks your hangover away."

"Oh, oh," the three men said in unison and drank the vial. Their eyes closed immediately, and they felt a horrible taste corrode down their esophagus. It was like drinking diesel fuel-- not they ever did that, but still.

"Better?" Skip asked.

The three men weakly gave a thumbs-up.

"Good, when you're ready get your asses up and meet us at the southern exit of the village." He gave a gay little snap. "On the double." Turning about swiftly on his heel, he escorted the pretty porn star out of the pub and the patron's eyes followed.

Laguna looked sheepishly at his friends. "You good to stand?"

"Need to adjust," Ward said. The other two nodded, and when all three were done they sighed once and got up and walked out the pub.

* * *

The wind had come back, but at least the sun was still the only figure in the sky. The great golden ball was approaching the western side suggesting the time was about two-ish or something like that. The two film studio people had come in a caravan, and various members of the crew were milling about: grip boys, producers, coffee bitches and the like. The caravan had gone to the north of the Dragon Forest and come across a deep gulch where the two continents of Esthar and Trabia jutted up against. It didn't quite help that none of the people here, the three former soldiers included, had any clue what kind of denizens lurked within the gulch.

The girl was the only female presence around and she was toying with several of the more gooberish members of the crew, while the other men were setting up the stage for the "climactic battle" of the Sorceress's Knight against the "dastardly" Dragon. The girl was Sorceress Adel, before the succubus's grotesque transformation. Apparently, Adel was a very beautiful woman at one time. Now, she looked like a fucked up rat in a scum-ridden sewer. Laguna was the infalliable Knight with the "magic sword" who will always save the day. Skip had scrounged around on the cheap and got some rusty old armor suit from a storage bin in a Dollet cathouse. The inside of it smelled like stale cheese. Ward and Kiros would play the dragon, with Ward's girth playing the big ass part of the dragon and Kiros playing the limb manipulator. The budget was extremely low, so it didn't matter if the two men could not coordinate the costume appropriately.

Skip, who was also the director of this "movie", was having a blast and laughing like a little schoolgirl. He laughed so hard, in fact, that he kept choking up the coffee he repeatedly drank. At what he was laughing at, no one was quite damn sure. He was just an eccentric motherfucker.

Laguna stood at the edge of the gulch in his smelly knight suit with this strange blueish sword that had a pink frilly edge to it and a bright pink hilt. It didn't exactly look sharp enough to cut anything, and when he touched it he was aghast to find out there was a sick coating draped on it. _I think they got this shit from a dildo store_. The sounds of Kiro's footsteps alerted him, but he looked up into some agitated brown eyes. He understood the feeling all too well. "Where's Ward?"

"He's fitting himself into the back end of the suit. It smells even worse than yer shit-stained drawers earlier."

"Damn, that sounds pretty bad."

Kiros folded his arms. "The nerve of that girl. And that..._Skip_.. dude. Y'know, I think they're both racist."

"What the hell are we doing here?" Laguna shouted out suddenly. He whirled around taking in all the view, causing his knight suit to shift in a weird way.

"Uh... earth to Laguna...we kinda need to be here. We don't have any money."

His eyes fell at the mention of that. "Oh yeah. I forgot. We kinda blew our wad a lot."

"Beer tastes good."

"I'm not cut out to be an actor! Especially in... _these_ kinds of films."

"Come on, Laguna. All your doing is saying a few pretty lines and smacking up on a dragon. Um... hopefully that's all you're doing with the dragon.. and that little sword thing you got there."

"Look, man, please don't tell Raine about this when we get back."

"Fuck you, man, this's the first thing I'm telling her."

Laguna smacked his forehead. "Yeah, who am I kidding anyway. This is _you_ we're talking about here."

"I already got it planned out, too, dude. 'Hey, Raine, guess what your boyfriend got caught up in this time....blah blah blah... and blah blah blah'."

Laguna only shook his head and tried to look pissed off, but Kiros only laughed instead.

"Actually, Laguna, if they do somehow market this thing, look at the bright side. You'll be known as the guy in that video that every lonely single adult male in Galbadia will see. I think you might be secretly excited about it."

A loud blarehorn blew across the gulch and through the nearby forests, stirring them in shock. "Attention, actors, stage is set. Please make your way to the stage!"

"Ohhh boy," Laguna said, "alright, even if I'm an amateur, we're lucky enough to get some money out of this. Hopefully we won't have anymore delays after this nonsense."

"Ditto to that, Laguna. Don't smack me too hard with your sword now, alright?"

"Ward's getting this up his ass, and _you're_ getting this down your mouth!"

"You bastard," but he was laughing as he said it.

Laguna hauled himself down the slope and found the actress and Skip down at the stage ready for him. The girl had tightened her dress a bit and revealed more of her skin, as a template for what a true Sorceress looked like in her prime stage of beauty. Laguna had to fight to place Raine's persona over this girl's, as well as banish the shame that accompanied it.

"Alright, Mr. Laguna," Skip said motioning over to the girl's left side. They were situated undered a layered walkway that cut into the side of a mountain foothill. "Lights, camera ready up there?" He was met with approval, and the scene was prepared ready. "Scene Twelve: Death of the Sorceress... or is It? Ready...and...ACTION!!!"

The last word scared Laguna and the girl a bit, and so did the next bit. Some extremely cheesy music started to play. Something indicative of old western parlor saloon. Laguna half-expected a tripped-up cowboy to come waltzing by. The girl next to him whistled harshly into his ear, and he bolted to his lines.

"It's a cold, dreadful day today!" He saw her wince, but he felt that horrible cramp start to edge in his leg again. He thought he had gotten rid of that problem.

"Oh, Sir Knight!" the girl exclaimed, trying to sound at least emphatic about her role. She started to think about Laguna's body double, and then she smiled and roared out the next thing. "Save me from that wicked dragon!!"

"Oh... O-k.. I'll s-save you from the... dragon." _Wow, I got that out good. What's with this sword thing anyway?_ Ignoring the girl's expressions, he turned around unsheathed the gay blade and twirled it around effortlessly through his fingers. He saw Skip with his head in his hand, shaking it slowly. He shrugged, though, at least he was getting money out of it.

The feed kept rolling, however the girl and Laguna had no more lines to do. Everybody looked around, listening to the wretched music continue to play and feeling the wind pick up its speed. Skip angrily shot up and covered the mic as best he could. "The dragon!! Please!!"

Nothing else happened for a minute or two, and Skip threw some papers down on the floor. "Of all the fucking thin--whoa!"

They followed his stare and heard the loud thumps of footsteps coming down the slope. A truly monstrous dragon, bright red in color, slowly walked down the slope with blazing eyes. Laguna hadn't seen the costume before, and he was quite impressed with the work. The others were captured, too.

But...

Skip took a step further and told people to shut off the camera. "Is that?"

Bits of slime and rotten things soaked out of its mouth. The eyes were changing colors. A slight rumble of a roar crept out of its maw, as the dragon slowly walked over and stopped right in front of all them, easily towering thirteen feet in height.

"Damn, Kiros, Ward. You two look more real than I thought," Laguna said dumbly.

"That's because we're not!" The group of them turned to see Kiros and Ward up at the top of the ravine, and then all looked at the dragon.

The ruby dragon reared back and let out a tremendous howl that pierced the sky and deafened all of them in the vicinity. Traces of fire curled around the bottom jaw, and the dragon lunged out at Laguna. The former soldier ducked and then thrust his puny fake sword into the dragon's maw. The angle was such that the fruity weapon lodged between the gums and crooked the dragon's jaw at a warped twist.

"Every man for himself!" Skip shouted, and the girl followed the screaming men back to their caravan leaving Laguna alone in the dragon's wake. The creature was mad as hell; it twisted its red and golden neck around, repeatedly wrenching the fluffy sword into the soft tissue of its mouth, bleeding the inside gums. It worked up a monstrous fireball from its belly, tilted its head down the slope's edge and blew the sword out with a massive flame. The fireball sailed down to the ground level and incinerated the caravan and all the members of the film crew with it. Laguna stepped back and slipped out of the silly knight costume as fast as he could, but the dragon held him at the spot, glaring and breathing menacingly.

"Damn, this thing needs a breathmint," Laguna joked a bit... except he didn't find it the least bit funny.

The dragon lowered its head and slowly crawled over to him, growling viciously. A distorted and mechanical yell sounded behind them, and a massive harpoon slammed into the creature's back piercing a deep hole in the dragon's hide. The dragon roared and sprayed fire into the sky. Laguna ran behind it and found Ward running like hell down to the dragon's rearing form. The big man ripped the anchor out of the massive flesh, and the dragon bounced a few feet down the slope. Kiros came down with Laguna's machine gun and tossed it over to him. Both men joined Ward's side, as the ruby dragon twirled around and faced the men. It laughed maniacally in its bestial roar and blew a massive firewall at them. Kiros reacted quickly, fished out that Shell magic, and covered them up with its yellow shield. The firewall wrapped around them, and an intense realm of heat waved on by them, causing them to sweat profusely but nothing more. The dragon stopped breathing flame and looked at its prey with confusion.

The flames dispersed, and the Shell magic was dispersed as well. "Alright!" Laguna shouted, taking the safety off the machinegun and clicking the chamer to the ready. "Let's kick some dragon ass!"

Ward waved the anchor harpoon around in a circle above his head, and Kiros brought both long daggers up in a cross on his chest. The dragon spread its legs apart in an attack position and then lunged out with its neck. The men split, and Kiros whirled around and struck the monster hard across its neck with the blades. The skin was hard like rock shell, but the knives managed to slice through and the dragon let out a roar. Laguna jumped out of the way of the maw and opened an entire clip of the Kalishnakov in the creature's face, splitting open the right eye, left nostril and most of the horned chin. Ward stepped back and hurled his weapon once again into the wound he had created earlier. The weapon made the wound deeper and bloodier and gobs of gore gushed out to the ground, genuflecting the dragon and causing it to spray fire on its legs. Kiros hurled himself onto the dragon's back and applied Blizzard magic to the gaping wound around Ward's anchor and tried not to hit the big man as he came to reclaim his weapon. Bits of snowflake landed on his shoulder, and the former soldier reeled back a bit in pain before wrenching the weapon out of the dragon's hide once more. The force of release severed off the dragon's left arm, and the dragon howled ever more fiercely with a gigantic fireball firing into the sky. Kiros held on tight to the creature's back, as the dragon used its hampered wingspan to float a bit off the ground. Ward tried to reel in a third attack, but the dragon delivered a weak blow with its right hand and slashed Ward's back.

Laguna reloaded and fired into the dragon's belly, aiming for the bloody wound. Hitting on half a clip, he sprayed the remaining bullets and widened the spread of blood even greater. When the last bullet entered, Kiros jumped into the air and thrust a deep spell of Blizzard into the gaping hole. The ice poured into the dragon's fiery bloodstream and liquified several organ, visibly crumbling parts of its ribcage into flabby, loose flesh. The creature lay dying on the ground, barely breathing fire. Ward twisted around from his attack and brought the heavy anchor down on the dragon's skull, protruding the mangled brain halfway out the creature's skull.

The three men started to breathe a sigh of relief, but a loud crunching sound occurred above them. They looked and saw a bigger blue dragon had landed on a bluff above them in the mountain range. Its yellow eyes ablaze, it howled into the sky and soared off and down at them followed by a swarm of two to three dozen other dragons from deep within the mountain.

"Oh shit, run fellas!!" Laguna yelled. The three men barely left the carcass before the blue dragon landed onto that ground and sprayed its belching fire. The heat burned all three of them, as they fought desperately to escape. Deafening sounds of the wings clapping against the wind made their depth perception weak and their surroundings gray. The shadows of the dragons crisscrossed above them, and the flames of repeated breaths scorched the land around them. Twice they got burned badly and twice a rock knocked against their head from a blow from one of the creatures. They hit the ground floor of the valley, and the forest-- the entryway to the continent of Esthar-- was a football field away. With all their strength and stamina, they hustled across the green soil with a torrential roar behind them. One of the pesky creatures lunged hard, and all three rolled to the ground and received deep wounds from its clawed wings. The others immediately pounced, and Laguna fired with every bullet he had, Kiros fired off Blizzard magic successfully freezing the face off one of them, and Ward sliced off several limbs before finding his feet again on solid ground. Teeth bit into Laguna's back and legs, and his friends supported him into the forest. They couldn't stop, for the dragons blew fire into the woods, scorching their skin one more time. One dragon crashed into the forest and attempted to rip them apart. Laguna managed to reload a final clip in and successfully destroy the head of the creature, before the three men ventured farther into the heart of the forest.

They didn't stop running until they found themselves out of the forest unexpectedly. They were burned, they were bleeding, they were delerious. They collapsed onto the ground and coughed up blood and soot. They didn't hear the sounds of machine guns cocking, but they saw the familiar green boots. Looking up very slowly, all three of them saw greenies galore all around them as well as the gateway of Camp Ghast. Esthar was before them, the continent at least, and a whole host of its soldiers were aiming guns at them and looking mighty curious about it as well.

Their commander walked forward with a stack of papers in his hand. He eyed all three of them and took note of their medical condition. With a raspy voice he ordered, "Clean these men up and put them into the camp."

"It's tha workhouse for ya boys, heh heh!" one of the gunners laughed. His colleagues echoed his chortles and kicked the three former soldiers in the stomach. Laguna, Kiros and Ward were immediately handcuffed and their burn marks were rubbed in salt and vinegar. The great gates of Ghast were opened, and even through their pain they managed to marvel a bit at the landscape of Esthar-- a land they had never seen before.

* * *

*********

"Oh dear!"

_What?_ Squall asked in his head. So sudden. A very weird dream sequence was unexpectedly cut off short. But... _that voice_.

"Yes, Squall, it's me, Ellone."

_"Ellone!!" _It was her. That sweet, lyrical voice. "_But how?"_

"Well, I can't answer that right now. It is time for me to disconnect anyway... but I cannot seem to at this point."

"_What is this connect thing?"_

He heard her laugh. "Persistent, eh?"

_"Ellone. I've been wanting to see you as much as Laguna has."_

"Yeah, I know. I guess I shouldn't hold out on you too much. Well, connect is what I call this special power that I have. It is a very weird phenomenon, as I sure you may have experienced."

He managed a little chuckle in his mind that was surprisingly loud inside. _"Yeah... it has."_

"You know, I must be asleep. That's probably why I can't control it as I normally would. Silly me."

_"Yeah, I guess that is kind of silly."_

"You don't mind if I use your spirit for a little while longer, do you?"

_"Ellone, I would love that, but I am still totally at a loss here."_

"I know, Squall. This isn't the best time to explain everything."

_"Ellone. Let me go back. This girl Rinoa needs me. She _needs_ me. There has to be a chance to save her."_

"You sound like you want to change the past."

_"That would be nice, yes."_

"It's impossible to change the past. I've found that out all too well. Uncle Laguna went on a journey to find me when I was kidnapped by the Estharians and the zombie stalwarts. It was a very strange experience up in the Trabian continent and then again in Esthar, and it appears that he had one, too. Yet, he could not be there for Raine in her time of need... when she... needed him the most."

"_Wh-What do you mean?"_

"Out of love, both for her and for me, he left and journeyed. But the journey took longer than he expected, and he wasn't able to be by her side when she died."

A sharp pain hit him hard, and if people were in the Infirmary watching his prone position they would've seen him jump in his sleep. It took a long time for him to respond, and she did not say anything more until he did. "_Raine... she d-died?"_

He heard her sigh. "Yes....Yes she did. Right after giving birth to a baby boy."

_"She died... and gave birth?"_ He felt himself swallow. _"Did he find out?"_

"Not until later... and ...well...I can bet you know how he reacted. She called out for him at the time. She called out for Laguna. So...what I really wanted him to do was stay in the village with her. I knew he loved her, but I also knew she loved him even more-- even if she did not show it as much as he did. He was her life. But... of course... there was the dilemma of having Adel get to me... and that wasn't acceptable to Laguna's mind either. I... cannot trace you back to that memory, Squall. I am... sort of constrained with my power. I can only send you back to the past via someone that _I've_ met before."

_"This...Th-This is all too much."_

"I'm sorry, Squall, but I have to disconnect now."

_"No, wait! Wait, Ellone!!"_

"I'm sorry. I'll try again to speak to you this way."

_"Sis!! ELLONE!!"_

She was gone.

The blackness was gone.

He saw Rinoa's body in front of him once more.

"No..." he breathed, surprised at the sound of his own voice. "No. Ellone!!" He didn't care if anyone was in the infirmary. There probably wasn't but fuck them if there were. "Ellone!!" he yelled again. He held his head in his hands.

_You can't change the past._

"Bullshit." He looked at the beautiful girl, still lying on her back, still breathing ever so slightly. Angelo was awake and looking at him with curiousity. "I can see you if we go back in time," Squall said in a crazy voice. His steely blue eyes were becoming bluer with excitement. "We could find out what happened and maybe change things around. I'm sure of it!"

Knowing it was futile, he yelled at the ceiling. "Ellone!! Can you hear me?!! Send me back to the time Rinoa went into a coma!! I need to know. I really need to know."

Nothing.

Angelo whimpered as a disheveled Squall sat on a stool and held his head in his hands once more. His mind worked furiously. Then the White SeeD ship popped into his brain on accident. It was just a flicker of a thought, but he snatched like a frog snatches a fly. "She's on there. That's it!!" He turned and held Rinoa's cold hand. "Edea will know the whereabouts of that ship. Hold tight, Rinoa, we'll get to the bottom of this." He stood up and saw Angelo stand as well. "Nah, boy." He admired the dog's gaze. "You stay here and guard Rinoa, alright?"

Angelo made a soft bark, and Squall smiled and left.

Walking into the main room of the infirmary, he stopped and saw something puzzling in the corner. A cloaked person sat in a chair in the far corner by the entrance reading some magazine. A strand of strawberry blonde hair peeked out of the cloak. A small table with a thin box was sitting in front of the figure. The sound of his footsteps caused the person to look up, but the light was dim and the face was hidden in the shadows.

"Good early morning, Mr. Squall." The voice was husky and obviously cloaked over. Squall was not aware of the time, and when he looked over at the wall clock he saw it was 3am. "I am King, Mr. Squall, and I see you have improved greatly in your skills."

_King._ "Can this wait?"

King opened the box and revealed the dastardly Triple Triad set. "I am afraid not." A sick laugh came out, and Squall was forced to obey. He brought up a chair next to the table and tried to steal a peek at the stranger. For a split second, something familiar struck him, but King managed to keep him in the dark. There was a certain familiar edge to the face, for enough light had illuminated the jaw line for a split second.

"We're gonna pull out all the stops, ya hear?"

"I hear."

The gameboard lit up, and it felt kinda eery with them being the only two people alive in the room.

"The rules," King said in a sickly voice, " are that the cards are open, chosen at random from the deck, cards are subject to the treacherous Same/Plus/SameWall demise, and the board is an elemental trap. However, in this game only certain squares are elemental ones. The winner takes all."

_SameWall. The trick where if one card's numbered sides match the sides of another, both are turned into the player's favor._ What a bitch. "I'm game. Let's do this."

"They don't the Commander for nothing." King shoved the deck towards him. "I've already got my five." The player showed Squall his/her cards: Behemoth 3,6,5,7; Ward (_Ward... shit a player card_, Squall thought) A,7,2,8; Blue Dragon 6,2,7,3; Zombie Stalwart 1,8,8,3; and ...

"What the hell?" Squall asked.

Quistis Trepe was on a player card! Quistis the fifth card read 9,6,A,2.

"You know this person?" King asked.

"Yeah," Squall replied with an irritated sigh. "She shows up everywhere."

"Pick your cards," King said.

Squall picked his and wound up with: Chimera 7,6,5,3; Creeps 5,2,5,2; X-ATM092 (_that spider thing that was blasted by the Ultima bomb at Dollet)_ 4,8,7,3; Adamantoise 4,5,5,6; and...

"Biggs and Wedge..." he said confused. The two men he had shot and killed at the prison were handed him on a card. Something was not right in this particular match. He looked at King. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Take your cards, Commander."

The two dead soldiers were a 6,6,2,7. Compared to King, Squall had shit, but the SameWall rule meant that both of them were in trouble by the luck of the move. The gameboard lit up and a spinner played in the center. An earth elemental hung in the top left square, a poison elemental hung in the bottom left square, an ice elemental hung in the top middle square, and a wind elemental hung in the bottom middle square. The spinner stopped onto Squall, and he looked at his deck.

"What looks good," he said aloud.

"You putting down a card."

Squall slowly looked up at King. The biting reply was quite familiar. He put the Chimera in the top left, knowing it would sink in value, which it did. Yet, King put the Zombie Stalwart card underneath it. The one up north couldn't do shit to _any _card. Squall looked at King and couldn't find any words to say. The count was still even.

Squall really wasn't in the mood. For one thing, it was late. A second, there was great business to be done, Rinoa's life was in danger dammit! Because of that, he put his Creeps card to the right of his _own_ card! Not only did not do anything to his points, but it _lost_ value at the same time!

"Wow, you are really not concentrating, are you?" King laughed.

It didn't register until a few seconds later, when he cursed out loud.

"Watch it commander, or I'll have to report you."

Squall gritted his teeth.

With a biting laugh, King put the Quistis card right in the center and took control of the Creeps card. Mad now, Squall focused. He found the spider card he had and put it in the top right, reclaiming his Creeps card. "The whole top row is mine!"

"Not for long." King put Ward underneath the spider, and that A rank obliterated the 7.

Squall answered back by putting Wedge and Biggs underneath that with blinding speed, knocking the 2 out with his 6. Two squares left, and both players edged closer to the table to view the dilemma. King seemed to be reposed, but Squall was intently focused. Yet the SameWall crap was floating around in his brain, and little by little he clamped down underneath its weight. King must've come to a decision. The Behemoth card in the arsenal was placed in the bottom left, and it lost value. Squall placed his last card in the square and lost track of the count, running into despair.

He shouldn't have been crushed, for he had won. A SameWall effect had taken place besides the fact that his Adamantoise had lost value upon the elemental. The numbers were the same across the board on the bottom row, and each value twisted into Squall's favor, and he won 7-2.

"Holy shit!!" Squall yelled.

"Indeed," King said pulling back the cloak.

"Holy shit, Quistis."

"Yeah, I figured you'd get some basis upon who I was," she said in a snorty way. Kind of the way she always talked with.

"You are King."

"I beat Kadowaki three years ago, and she's never stopped chattering about it since. Now _you've_ beaten me, and the tournament has come to an end."

"Congratulations, Squall."

Both Squall and Quistis looked behind them into an office where Headmaster Cid walked out of with a dark blue scabbard clanking on his hip. An absolutely brilliant hilt to a sword gleamed out of it. Squall couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"I knew you'd do it. Mackwell Blunt is a fine scouter of talent, he is."

"He needs some guidance in his life, sir."

"And you don't? Well, that's probably true in some aspects."

Squall rolled his eyes.

"Well, Quistis, should I part ways with it?"

"Part ways you shall," she said with an admirable smile.

Squall looked back and forth between them and saw they referring to the sword.

Cid looked at the weapon and grasped the hilt one last time. His eyes closed thinking back on old memories. "Squall, this sword has been in my possession for a long time. For...oh lemme see... something like twenty years. Nobody else has handled this sword except me and me alone." He slowly looked at him. "It was made primarily for beating Adel and her minions. Yet, when Edea turned, I could not afford to strike her down. I instead became her Knight and stood proudly by her side until the inevitable happened, as you know. I named this weapon the Punishment, and I had crafted it myself." He unsheathed it, and the dark blue glow lit up the whole infirmary. Quistis gasped, and Squall buckled under. It was a magnificent double-bladed dark blue death weapon. Thin red lines tinged with Sorceress energy cut from the hilt to the point and delivered the extra strength the blade needed to slice denizens apart. The gunblade assembly held short shell succubus bullets that would no doubt create a powerful punch to the enemy. It looked lighter than the Twin Lance as well, and deadlier than ever.

Cid kissed the blade and flung it in an arc in the air. Squall caught the hilt and slashed the room with it several times, cascading dark blue shades over the infimary walls and ceiling. "The Punishment. It shall remain that name, sir."

"I know you want to protect Rinoa, Squall. She means as much to you as Edea meant to me." He came over and held Squall's shoulders. "I heard you talking over there in that room. I do believe Edea knows where the White SeeD are, however, it is too dangerous to go walking or sailing around at night. If my memory serves me correctly, they are hiding in some fjord over on the southern side of this continent. Wait to first light in the morning, which should be about three hours from now. Have patience, that is what Rinoa would say to you now, if she could."

Squall looked into her room and almost cried at the realization. "You're right, sir. We shall wait a little longer."


	28. Unbridled Passion

_Alone on the brink,_

_Awake in a distant land._

_Hope for the future_

The sun peeked ever so slightly above the eastern ridges of the Centran coast, and thin shades of light pierced onto the bow of the fleet of ships. The mangled remnants of Balamb Garden, now successfully levelled between two FH carrier ships, became slowly awash in the light. For once in a rare while, only a few clouds streaked across this stretch of sky with not a hint of rain in the near future.

Squall Leonhart stood solemnly still, smoking a cigarette in a frustrated silence and contemplating many things. Rinoa was always on his mind. Ellone and Laguna followed soon afterwards. Then, the strangest of all, Headmaster Cid. It seemed that the old man was as powerful as rumors said he once was. To have wielded a double-bladed gunblade in order to protect a Sorceress was a hefty feat to accomplish. That bathed a more sincere light upon the picture in Squall's mind, yet it did not comfort him all the way here.

Angelo had left his master's side for a brief minute to come keep Squall company up on the top deck. He curled up against Squall's pant leg and took in the rising sun as well. Cid had told Squall to be patient, but he might've done more good at talking to a wall. Squall had immediately gone up to this top deck and had drained a full pack of Centran smokes and a bottle of gin to boot. His bloodstream was plagued with many harmful toxins, but he didn't seem to feel jaded in the slightest. Too much stronger shit was keeping him reeled.

Down below him and the dog, the other four members of his party weren't getting much sleep either, especially not with an excited Quistis telling them all about her defeat at the card game. After much inane gossip, they had managed to split slightly in order to go get some food; however, Quistis was pretty much the only one eating. Zell and his girlfriend, and Irvine and Selphie were trying to cope with the new reality. With Rinoa down for the count and Squall going apeshit ballistic in his mind and-- judging from the nonstop news coverage of drastic events happening on the western continent between Galbadia and Deling City-- the global politics reeling like a bat out of hell, the four of them had much, much crap to worry about.

Milena Chabert was completely unaware that she would ever in her life have managed to slay someone, and yet she had done it to four people during the Battle of Lighthouse Pointe-- three Galbadian soldiers and a Galbadian SeeD. It had taken her almost a week to fully recouperate from the nightmares she had had, and Zell at first wasn't much for consolation. Yet, they somehow reconciled, even when she heard from him that there might be something even more dreadful in the world than the massive battle the Gardens had had earlier.

They sat together in the ship's mess hall eating some type of curry and dumpling dish. Irvine and Selphie sat across from them, and Quistis sat at another table with mountains of report files Xu had given her. Those papers detailed the sheer crisis looming over the Delinger citizens, as the Deling Guard had now taken over complete control of the city and were now harassing Galbadian territories.

"What's going to happen now?" Mila asked, her voice breaking a little.

Her words startled all of them for a second. Zell put his arm around her and held her close. "Probably something exciting, ya know?!"

His overzealousness was met with some frosty looks from Irvine and Selphie.

"A little too early for that, baby," she replied, "I was being serious."

"Well, so was I. Come on now, I'm sure Squall has a plan of action all thought out and everything."

"Yes," Quistis said cooly. "It involves the bottom of an alcohol bottle."

The four of them looked at her and then looked back at their food.

"Well, Rinoa's on his mind," Selphie said. "A _lot_. But, he led us through the first battle of the war. I'm sure he'll find a way to lead us through the second."

"Of course, he will," Irvine said, taking a big gulp of his curry, then wishing he hadn't for it didn't taste that good. "All _we_ need to do is to make sure he doesn't put his head up his ass and get all pissy."

Selphie and Quistis giggled, and Mila forced a smile to display.

"There you go," Zell laughed, playfully jabbing her shoulder. "A little more natural, and you'll feel a lot better."

"I still can't believe I did that back there," she said softly.

"You were magnificent," Selphie said, patting her hand with hers. "Pretty badass, too, giving that you're not a SeeD."

"You're the one who's a badass. You had a grenade launcher in your hands."

"Uh... she enjoyed that a little too much," Irvine joked.

The spunky SeeD gave a wide, sly grin and thought about the long gray tube straddled atop her shoulder with the bulky loaded chamber hanging against her chest. It wasn't exactly a proper form to fire the weapon, but she had a secret love of the force of the rounds sounding off against her body-- a true vibration feel. It was a wise idea to not let her handle big guns for too long. She didn't see the others give her a strange look.

"Well, still..." Mila started.

"Babe, look," Zell said, stopping after hearing Selphie giggle at him followed by Irvine's eyes rolling, "everything will turn out all right. It's inevitable that things have to get a little worse now that we know there's an even bigger and nastier Sorceress out there. I don't think Squall or Edea are certainly gonna give up now. I for one am not!"

She gave a small smile, and that was all that he needed to smile himself and go back to his half-eaten hotdog.

"Goodness me, goodness me," Quistis mused, unintentionally out loud.

"What's eating your ass, Quisty?" Irvine asked.

"My ass? You silly cowboy, we got some big problems looming up here that we will be forced to deal with."

"Whatever it is, we'll _smash em!_" Zell exclaimed, smacking his fists together.

"With a grenade launcher!!" Selphie added.

Quistis smacked her forehead. "People, people. Focus. We have a humanitarian crisis on our hands. The people of Deling and Galbadia are being overrun by a military junta. Remember Rinoa's father? He had a couple of right-hand underlings that turned on him, fatally injured him, and have now administered a coup. They've burned the Presidential Palace in Deling City, and they've torn down the Bank of Galbadia and the congressional offices in Galbadia City."

"Shit," Irvine grunted, rubbing his chin fiercely.

"Where can the people go?" Selphie asked.

"That's the problem," Quistis said glumly. "They can't go anywhere. Several wires have come out of Esthar alerting the junta to reduce its influence, which is kind of odd. I don't know why they would be saying that. It appears now that the junta has complete control over all of Deling and Galbadia City. They are currently working on the suburbs and the outposts of the Galbadian continent. I guess once they're done, they'll start doing mandatory conscription."

"Forcing the citizens to fight?" Selphie asked.

"They're not citizens anymore, I'm guessing," Irvine said.

"Quite right, they're not. The junta has placed frag mines all throughout the land, and any Delinger or Galbadian civilian who resists conscription is immediately shot on sight. I'm supposed to get a wire from Duke Haydyn here in a minute."

"Yeah," Zell asked, "what about Dollet?"

"They're in danger. I know the Duke's set up a perimeter of ion cannons and gun turrets and kept a constant patrol, but I don't know if he can hold it for long."

"We should help them," Zell asked.

"We'd never make it," said a low voice behind all of them.

All five of them turned to see Squall and Angelo walking into the mess hall. A look of sheer determination transfixed him.

"What do you mean?" Mila asked.

"I've seen the papers you've handed me to read , Quistis. Colonel Whigham... erm.. excuse me.. _Premiere_ Whigham has a force of almost a million men. The Deling Guard is a hundred thousand strong at least and extremely loyal and sympathetic. Most of the residents of Deling City's five million is against the manuever, but they are being made to follow or face grave consequences. The whole western continent with the exception of sovereign states like the entire southwestern portion and the Dollet Dukedom is against Balamb, Trabia, Centra and Fisherman's Horizon. They want a second battle to commence, much bloodier than Lighthouse Pointe."

Squall pointed at Quistis. "After you and I played and Cid told me to wait, I called up Haydyn. You see, I _have_ been doing more than pining away for Rinoa here. I've seen the news, however biased it is. So has he, of course. He told me he's managed to conjure up fifty thousand people, everyone except the very elderly and the infant. I've allowed two detachments of Balamb SeeD and civilian units to join them, and their ship has already left. All told, the Duke will have sixty thousand people to fend them off. Given the terrain surrounding three sides of Dollet, the junta will have a tough time braving the land creatures and the dust devils that swarm there. Only Deling City has capable seacraft now, but so does Dollet. It will be an interesting fight."

Zell stumbled out of his chair, knocking it down to the floor. "We still have to help them."

"Did you not hear what I just said?" His tone stopped Zell cold on his feet. "I've sent them ten thousand men. I've also sent them some of our best railgun weapons. We still have plenty in stock, and the Centran commander has got a good run of smuggled goods in his ships, so we'll be fine. Anyway, hopefully, the entire militaries of Galbadia and Deling City are being used within this junta, so we shouldn't encounter any resistance. That's what Haydyn said to me this morning as well."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Quistis asked.

"I've told you now. And anyway, you've done a great job at providing me this information. You've taken on the jobs of both Nida and Xu, as well as your normal duties. With one dead and the other incapacitated for the most part, you've got a triple burden on your plate more than most people can handle."

Quistis swallowed. "Wow.... Squall. I didn't expect you of sympathy.."

Irvine chuckled. "Rinoa's really worked on you, hasn't she?"

That didn't register fully with Squall. He just stared blankly for a few seconds, before suddenly realizing why he had come down there. "Is everyone finished eating?"

"I'm almost done," Selphie said looking at her bowl.

"I've still got a quarter of a dog left," Zell added.

"You're all done eating," Squall said sternly. "The sun's an hour up, and so is Edea. We've got some exploring to do, and we need her help." He wheeled around on the ball of his foot with Angelo tailing him, and the others could only blink and comply.

* * *

One of those rare days of sunshine and clear skies could not hold back the clouds for long. Behind the lighthouse out to the western horizon, light gray streaks of fluff smacked agains the sky edging closer to the continent as the hours ticked. Seagulls were out en masse, conquering the sky with loud caws as their beaks found shellfish to crack open and eat. Squall led his friends across the terrain in this late morning jaunt, while several dozen Balambians prepared to cast off the dilapidated Balamb Garden to Fisherman's Horizon with the help of three FH support ships. The last of the Dolletians vacated Centra on their way back to quell the torrential firepower building up to the west of their great city. The Centran ships stayed there on the peninsula by order of the Commander.

Angelo ran out and disturbed a flock of seagulls from their feast, receiving angry caws as a result. He just barked at them and then went and fished out some shellfish guts for his own tastes. The stench of decay from the battle was almost a month gone, yet its residue still remained. The nearby forest had been cleaved wholeheartedly, and its riverbeds were still polluted with blood from dead men and oil and grease from the broken-down Gardens and mechas. Huge chunks of land were still gorged and uprooted. Parts of the westernmost expanse were even radiated by contaminated spills from Galbadia Garden's exploded underbelly. The G-Garden skeletal frame after being virtually ransacked for parts was now lying down at the bottom of the sea creating a coral reef hazard and polluting the beach water around the west and northwest peninsulas of Centra. What little the towns on the continent knew about it, the better. They'd blame it on Galabadia anyway.

All in all, the physical damages were enormous. The psychological damages were probably worse, but the FH psychatrists had done a good job of helping the Dolletian soldiers-- even though roughly a dozen of them had committed suicide when no one was looking. It sucked for them, now that they had a city to defend for a second time in a year. The Balambians were still being worked on, and one did not want to be on Ship E for very long whilst the constant depraved shoutings unnerved them. Many instants of post-traumatic shock syndrome were proliferating around the ships, and the doctors were doing everything they could possibly do. Zell had even experienced that with Mila, and it took a long time for her to get over it. Even Irvine and Selphie had experienced small bits of nightmares, despite their braggadocio. Squall couldn't say if he had felt anything, but he did notice that his right hand shook uncontrollably at times. Now, as he walking closer towards the orphanage, he did not want to dwell on that either. He seemed to feel more comfortable being around the comatose Rinoa, because it relieved him of the psychological terror. Not one physician had spoken to him about psychosis; they only helped with his physical recoveries, because he was getting pissed off at being in bed for far too long.

He knew what Rinoa would say to him in a time like this, and for that he was kind of glad (momentarily of course) that she was konked out.

Still, death in battles and the aftermath of war was something he did not want to dwell on for far too long.

They reached the orphanage and walked inside. Cid had returned and passed out with a bottle of tequilla in his arm. It looked like he had attempted to spruce the place up into something more livable, but he had given up about a quarter of a way in. Before the alcohol had consumed him, he gotten some colorful rugs put in along with some draperies and tapestries, and he had gotten one gaping wall sealed up all the way. There were six left, but he had passed out.

The floor was littered in supplies, ranging from paint buckets to carpentry work, so they had to navigate an obstacle course to get to the backyard. There Edea was waiting, silent, looking out to the sea. At first, they weren't quite sure if she was awake, and it looked awfully uncomfortable for a sleeping state. Then as Zell made a noise with his boot, she turned her head sharply and smiled big.

"Ah, children, you have returned."

"Matron!" Selphie and Quistis squealed together. Both of them took turns hugging Edea.

"Children, what can I help you with this morning?"

The girls turned to Squall, and Zell and Irvine looked to him as well. They didn't quite know why they were there in the first place, for Squall hadn't really bothered to explain.

Put on the spot, Squall took a second and then said, "I think I may know how to help Rinoa."

Irvine raised his eyebrows, and Zell looked around all giddy.

"What is it?" Edea asked.

"Through Ellone. A while back, before the battle here on this continent, there were fears that the Galbadians would swarm us out of the blue, and she was on our Garden for a good long time. The White SeeD came and took her away, to harbor her and buy her some time away from capture."

"Ah, good, I am glad to see that they are still running smoothly. I am surprised at the extraordinary courage and faith that they represent. Even when they knew that I had turned. That is truly a blessed thing to hear."

"Would you be willing to tell us where they might be?"

She made a little laugh and went up and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Squall, you're always so mushy with explaining things. Of course, I'd be _willing_ to tell you where they are. It might be difficult to find them, though, they are a cautious bunch. Adept at camoflauge around here, they are. They seem to have taken a liking to certain northern fjords along the continent here. I know that many navies have tried to capture them, Estharians included, but they are very good at hiding."

Squall frowned. "That won't be very good. We'll be hunting all day."

"Yeah!" Zell said. "There's like hundreds of fjords up there. That's impossible!"

"My, my," Edea laughed, "such downers you two are. I never expected that to come from a boisterous fellow such as yourself, Zell."

"Yeah, Zell," Irvine said, prodding the brawler's arm, "what's with the sissy talk here?"

"_Sissy_ talk?" Zell snapped, feigning anger and swatting at the air around Irvine's trenchcoat.

"Now boys," Edea said, addressing Squall first, "don't be giving up already--"

"--I'll search the whole expanse for them if I have to," Squall said stubbornly.

Selphie and Quistis scratched their heads and raised their eyebrows.

"Well," Edea said, "that probably won't be necessary. They can trick world armies, but they cannot trick Cid and myself. Take this since your Garden is down for the count." She handed Squall a map, and he unfolded it. The others came behind him to look, and they saw the continent of Centra. Besides the serpentine-shaped mainland, four large islands spread out between the fingering fjords jutting out into the Central Ocean. Two of the islands in the center were highlighted. Edea came to them and pointed at the map. "The red circled island on the left has a fifty percent chance that they'll be there. The green circled island on the right has about a sixty percent chance. They move constantly between the two, so it's difficult sometimes to tell for certain where they would be. I'd shoot for the middle of the two, if I were you though. Talk to the Centran commander. He has jurisdiction over the entire northern expanse."

"So, he knows where they are?"

"Not all the time. Centra does not have any radar capabilities."

"Aye."

"Can we take the map?" Selphie asked.

"For five thousand gil," Irvine teased.

"Not-uh!" she snorted.

"You're right. Seven thousand gil."

She slapped on the shoulder and held the map tightly in her hand as Quistis looked on and grinned.

Edea laughed and then stopped and thought of something. "Hm. They might be suspicious of approaching ships, even if they are Centran in flagship. Here, take this as well."

"What is it?" Squall asked.

She handed him a notarized letter. "This is my authorization for the creation of the White SeeD-- the protectorate of the Sorceress. Garden SeeDs are a Sorceress's military force. The White SeeD are essentially a bodyguard unit. They protect a Sorceress's homebase, which happened to be here at this orphanage. After the attack by the Estharians and Galbadians over ten years ago, they swore to renew the pact and thus patrol the waters as best they could-- before I turned of course." She tapped the letter in Squall's hand. "Show Captain Tracy this letter. Then, there won't be any hostilites."

"Will do, Matron," Squall said nodding to her. The other four did the same, and they hugged once more and left the orphanage.

* * *

They approached the array of ships to see Balamb Garden slowly retreat to the northern horizon on a gradual destination towards Fisherman's Horizon. Only three ships remained, all Centran. The Commander of the fleet approached Squall.

"Top of the morning, almost noon, to ya Mr. Leonhart."

Squall shook his hand. "Nice day to you to, sir."

"Your Garden shall make it there in three days, sir. You should all be heading there yourselves. Mayors Dobe and West have been anxious to meet and greet you, and I'm sure Duke Haydyn will have a few words as well. We'd be happy to send you on one of our ships."

"Much obliged, Commander, but there is one thing we must do first, if you don't mind."

"Ah, certainly, sir. What is it?"

"We must find the White SeeD. It's imperative to speaking with Ellone and possibly finding out what is wrong with Miss Heartilly."

At the mention of the White SeeD, Centran crewmembers made a bow and a salute at nothing in particular. The Centran commander whistled. "Ah, the White SeeD. Been three years since I've seen Captain Tracy and his merry crew. Edea told you where they might be."

"She gave us a map," Selphie squealed, showing him.

"Ah, good. Of course, Squall, we'd be happy to see them again. Do you think they'd be willing to talk, though?"

"Well, she gave us one of her notarized letters," Squall answered, showing the Commander the note.

The Commander widened his eyes. "Ooh, very official business."

"Why is the White SeeD anxious right now?"

"From reports that we have been getting, we believe they may have come under attack by something, but no explanation or proof of that has surfaced. They have always tended to keep matters between themselves, probably because it concerns both Edea and Ellone. Yet, they can't always keep secret their location from us, and they trust us plenty enough." He cleared his throat and clapped his hands. "Very well then, let's hit the waters!!"

Shouts of approval rang up all along the decks of the three ships, and two of them set off to scout ahead for a patrol. The group followed the Centran commander onto his ship, and the engineers propelled the rig forward crashing against the waves. Selphie and Quistis followed Angelo back to the hospital bay where Rinoa still lay in her state. They needed time with her more. Zell and Irvine popped open some beers to ensure that they would have something to do, as the sun started to progress past its halfway point. Squall and the commander helped the rest of the crew man the ship and plot the destination while avoiding the copious amount of birdshit coming out from the many orifices above them.

Their ship was christened the _Commandant_ and they tailed the two destroyers _Pursuit_ and _Defiance_. For roughly an hour, the trio of rigs left the pleasance of the orphanage and crested the crashing waves past reddish-purple cliffs and bluffs. The journey crisscrossed the same path Squall himself had taken when he was eight years old, and they indeed passed the same island where he had briefly battled Leviathan. Now, at an older stage, he was able to see how lucky he was to survive the ordeal for the island was an inhospitable wasteland of dried carcasses and rotting bones. The serpentine itself had just recently left its homeland, for the sand was freshly shifted. Squall inquired about the safety of their crew against a fifty foot Guardian Force, but the Centran commander assured him their safety was guaranteed as long as they did not breach the island like the eight year old Squall had done previously.

The gunblader had to take a moment to laugh at himself for that little experience, and he continued laughing as he took the beer bottle out of an unsuspecting Zell's hands as well as Irvine's cigars and walked down the bow of the ship taking in the Centran air. They crested above a particularly big wave and crashed down the lower sea level, spraying foamy waves across the deck drenching the socks in his shoes. He loved every minute of it and felt not the least bit sick, considering there was a heavy salty smell in the mix. The destroyers were leading the _Commandant_ north and northeast for a long spate before turning ever more eastward after a clip, and soon the terrain on the mainland of Centra turned a lot more mountainous. Tall purplish peaks, almost losing their red color altogether, dominated the eye's wake. A couple Blitz creatures could be seen wandering aimlessly in small nooks and crannies. Large horned arthropods clamored to and fro around the mountain ridges. The skies overhead darkened a bit more towards the mainland area, ruining the vast sea above them into darker shades of blue and gray.

The civilizations of Centra lived on the outer peripheries, but the continent itself contained slightly more than a hundred thousand people for a total land area of six hundred thousand squared feet. There were two large settlements closer to the continent of Esthar and a few sporadic settlements close to Edea's orphanage, all on the coast. More had existed before, but after the Sorceress War many were wiped out by several waves of demonic violence. The landscape itself had been plagued by copious amounts of succubus radiation in the wake of devastating missiles launched by Adel's Iron Giant squads. Half of the continent was polluted, and there was one particular area near the center and almost to the northern coast where a large object was buried in the earth-- an object that sounded familiar to Squall for an instant, as he vaguely recalled a Laguna experience here on this continent.

The three ships rounded the first large island that Edea had marked on the map, and the second one was looming up within three miles. South of them were hundreds of fjords. Quite literally, there was a million fjords all along the northern coast and southern coasts. Centra was almost like the skeleton of a millipede, only much bigger. Thick craggy fingers lifeless and obtuse. Plagued by smacks of lightning bolts and occasional sporadic fires that lit up the earth to no end. It was known, according to the textbooks Squall had read for SeeD, to be Eden's Bane. A product, if one believed in religion, to be the source of Man's Hell. Indeed, there was rumors about an island that supposedly represented the gateway to Hell, overrun by hideous creatures the likes of which one would not want to get involved with at all. Unless of course he was drunk, which was what Zell and Irvine were now under. They had left Edea's orphanage five hours earlier, and Zell was drunk within the first. Irvine followed three hours after, and Squall-- who had studied up on Seifer's prowess with booze before the SeeD exam all those months ago-- was just beginning to feel wretched when the _Defiance_ sent out a wire.

White sails had been spotted.

The Centran commander ordered his top engineer to increase the oil in the pike, and the _Commandant_ picked up speed. The ship barrelled past the _Pursuit_ and pulled up alongside the _Defiance_. Sure enough, the familiar three white sails of the serpentine-shaped ship made a smile form on the commander's face. He gave a distinct order, and a foghorn was blown. Squall slapped himself awake and leaned forward against the railing. Irvine hiccuped and prodded Zell awake to see a series of people mill about the deck of the White SeeD ship. They looked like ants from their faroff vantage point, and Zell couldn't suppress a giggle to escape him. They were given harsh looks by Mila, Selphie and Quistis when the three girls joined them after hearing the blaring horn.

Squall joined them, burped, and said, "They might (hic) be a little hostile at first, but no matter. We're getting this (hic) done one way or another."

Selphie couldn't stop her own giggling, while Mila looked a little cross. Quistis handed Squall a placebo filled with adrenaline. "It might look bad for Edea to see you all flushed."

Squall injected the needle into the bottom of his chin for the best effect and coughed once at the sudden rush to his brain. Swallowing twice, he felt instantly better and wondered if that drug did havoc to his body at times-- it did, after all, sear through his bloodstream in a matter of seconds. "We all set, ladies and gentlemen?"

"Always," Selphie said cheerfully.

"Of.. course," Irvine stammered, fixing himself up.

Zell burped one more time and nodded after catching his girl's "evil eye".

Quistis nodded as well and gave Squall Edea's notarized document, which the gunblader pocketed into his coat.

"Let's pull up to them," he told the Centran commander, and they did.

They could see half a dozen people on the deck of the ship, and the battery hulls were open, featuring about a dozen rounds of cannon pointed at their direction. They knew the three ships were Centran, but they still seemed a bit perturbed. The _Commandant_'s brow came alongside theres, and a gangplank was dropped gently onto their side. The six SeeDs came up to Squall and his crew, and they folded their arms and waited.

Squall edged forward first and saluted crisply. "Commander Squall Leonhart of Balamb Garden."

The highest ranking White SeeD, a Captain and most probably the Tracy guy Edea was talking about, widened his eyes. "Balamb Garden? The ones that destroyed Galbadia?"

"That's right, Captain. Are you Mr. Tracy Edea was telling us about?"

The man nodded slowly after a bit. "I seem to recall that we have met before."

"North of Fisherman's Horizon, I believe," Squall said assertively. "You took Ellone from us."

The other five nodded with a sigh of relief. "Indeed," Tracy acknowledged. "Well, I know who you are now. And you know who I am. I am Captain Tracy McDaniels, and I am in charge of this ship. Please your state your business here, Commander."

"Direct and to the point. Well, Captain, we come on an imperative note. We need to see Ellone."

The other five White SeeDs sucked in some breath and seemed a bit agitated. Tracy himself gave a visible clenching of his jaw muscles.

"You and I both know we pose no threat. Edea Kramer told us you would be somewhere between these two large islands. The Centran commander and his destroyer units have also insisted on us coming here."

Tracy looked around them. "Yes, I can see that. And, yes, I know you pose no harm. Forgive me for sounding dull, but how has Edea gotten in touch with you all?"

"You have heard about our Garden defeating Galbadia's?"

"Yes, but only briefly. We have been much embroiled in other matters."

"We fought and defeated the Galbadian military with the help of the Dolletians. Afterwards, we swarmed the inside of the Garden, deposed her Knight and drove out Edea from Sorceress Ultimecia's control." He waited until all six of them were done gasping. "She is now our ally, and we just came from there not six hours ago. There's no need to hide Ellone's whereabouts. We need to protect her from Ultimecia who desires nothing else but to get a hold of her."

Tracy clenched his muscles again and seemed as stubborn and hardened as ever. Even in the presence of three Centran ships and five of Edea's most trusted children, he still felt apprehensive. Squall let out a visible sigh, as even he could tell that the company was pretty much shoddy. Tracy was about to speak when shouts of joy erupted behind him.

"Holy shit on a brick!!"

"Wow!!! Long time no see, sir!"

Zell actually slapped himself, and Selphie gasped. Quistis vaguely remembered, and Irvine had no idea. Squall rolled his eyes. "Ah, shit," he said aloud.

Zone and Watts ran up to him with all their might and slammed Squall down to the deck in one large bear hug. They tried to do the same to Zell, but the brawler refused and gave a nervous chuckle. They were more cordial to Selphie and merely shook her hand.

"Zone, Watts," Tracy said, "you know these people?"

"Sure thing, sir!" Watts yelled cheerfully. "They were with us in Timber, sir! Fine young people, sir! Children of Edea, according to Ellone, sir!"

At that, both Squall's company and Tracy's company widened their eyes and the White SeeDs became more relaxed. "Well, then," Tracy said more softly, "aren't I acting so silly now. Forgive me, Mr. Squall, for being such an ass."

Squall straightened out his jacket from the incontinent Zone's shove and merely shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Come, make yourselves at home for a little while. Have Watts inform you a bit, then come me see when you're ready." Tracy turned to leave, and Squall cursed inside. _Not with these dipshits_, he cursed. Then he thought of Rinoa. _Well, they are her friends, though._ He visibly shuddered.

"So how is it going?" Zone said stupidly and with great emphasis on each and every syllable. He still could not keep his eyes off Selphie, and even though he knew how mad Quistis could get he couldn't help resisting on that either.

"It's so good to see you, sir!" Watts said in his rhetorical manner. "Everybody doin well, sir?"

Zell resisted the urge to vomit and was the first to reach out a hearty handshake, which Zone pushed Watts out of the way first to grip and shake furiously, followed by an even clammier shake from the suck-up Watts. When Zell pulled his hand back to his side, he saw that it was perspering. The others just waved, but the two resistance boys were getting extremely giddy and fidgety. The White SeeDs tending to their ship periodically stared with confusion at the spectacle.

"Hey!" Zone exclaimed suddenly at Squall, making him blink, "Come walk with us and talk with us!"

Squall froze and then shrugged. The man was off walking towards the cabin area, and Squall led his friends after him with an excited and bubbly Watts practically skipping across the deck. "Oh boy, oh boy sir! Have we had much of an adventure out on these high seas!"

"Indeed!" Zone cried, jumping up to a higher ledge of the ship. "After you guys left in Timber all those months ago, those Galbadian fucks went and chased us! Hoo doggy, we flew like chitlin birds all across the fields of the Monteareasu Plateau. We somehow entered the dusky sands near Dollet, bartered with the sea captains there and commodered a boat!" He made sweeping motions with his hand as he said every sentence.

"Oh yes, sir!" Watts said, oohing and ahhing.

Irvine was entirely new to this shit, and Selphie risked a few seconds to explain to him the prior situation, and he was even more disturbed.

"I was sure we was goners, sir!" Watts yelled at Squall, as if it was the gunblader's fault. "Zone went nuts when the Dolletian sea dogs didn't want to part with the schooner, and the Galbadians were edging ever closer, sir! Zone thought he was gonna swim across the ocean to escape."

_Damn,_ Squall thought. _Why did you stop him?_

Zone cracked his back like the cracking of a whip and whirled around on Watts. "Hey, it was a plan. All you were doing was whining like a baby. _Wah! Wah! I'm Watts...I can't swim I can't swim and we're all gonna die we're all gonna die_ Pssh... look who jumped in the water first right as soon as got the schooner. You nutjob!"

"Oh yeah, I did, heh," Watts giggled.

Irvine blinked and felt his brain was melting and oozing out of his ears. Zell and Selphie held their head in their hands and slowly shook it, while Quistis and Squall were at a total loss for words.

Zone reared back in his stance and actually kissed the air before jumping back down to their level. "You guys are the shit from what I heard!"

Squall was taken aback. "What have you heard?"

"Well--"

"I got the info, sir!" Watts yelled.

"Oh yeah," Zone said, rubbing Watts shoulders hard, "he has _all_ the info!"

_Oh shit,_ Squall cursed. He noticed the others did the same.

"Ahem. Miss Heartilly's clients successfully entered Galbadia Garden, got their mission to assassinate the Sorceress, failed, were thrown in prison, escaped and blew up the prison, split into two groups, destroyed the Galbadian missile base--_huzza!_-- successfully warned and made mobile Balamb Garden, saved Fisherman's Horizon, saved the Port of Balamb, reconniassanced with Trabia Garden, and battled at Lighthouse Pointe ultimately destroying Galbadia Garden--_huzza!_-- and saving Matron, sir!"

Visibly impressed, the entire group became confused again. "You call her Matron, too?" Quistis asked.

"We were part of her orphanage gang for a couple of years before we all had to split," Zone explained.

"I never knew you," Selphie said.

"We weren't talkative too much. We were transitioning back to Timber after the deaths of our parents by the former president Deling."

"Ah," Zell said, nodding.

"Like the info, sir?"

"Yes, you seem to have a lot of time on your hands," Squall acknowledged.

Watts giggled.

"So," Zone said clapping his hands and rubbing them together, "where's Rinoa? Haven't seen her bubbly face at all in your group."

The group stiffened, and Squall forgot about how much this dupe took to her. It was quite easy to see just how much of a jolly he got in her presence, even though she could snap his cock in half before he even blinked. "She fought with us against Edea and was successful along with us in turning her back to normal. However, something happened and Rinoa fell into a coma. She's in our hospital bay right now stuck in an endless sleeping trance."

His bubbliness subsided immediately, and Zone developed an unwise angry glare in his eyes. He lunged forward at Squall but the Commander hardly flinched.

"You sonofabitch!" he yelled at Squall, causing Squall's four friends to widen their eyes. "What did I tell you at Timber, huh? I told you to take care of her.. that NOTHING should happen to her!! And look what you allowed?! You rotten scumbag!"

Zell sucked in air through his teeth, and Irvine actually fingered the holster of his gun.

Squall merely cocked his head to the side. "Scumbag?" he asked dangerously.

"Y---.......yes," Zone said softly.

Like lightning. The gloved right hand curled into a fist and shot out so quickly that Zone barely could react in time. It stopped within an inch of the boy's face, and the kid's fatal reaction time would've meant very bad news for him. Zone crumpled to the floor without being hit and burst into a trail of tears. He wet himself.

Squall put his hand back to his side and looked at the sad, pathetic man and merely shook his head. He heard Zell and Selphie snicker, and Irvine whispered "Good job" in his ear.

"Zone, c'mon, sir!" Watts stammered, stepping lightly over and helping his friend up to a sitting position. He looked around to the White SeeDs who were trying hard not to laugh. He calmed the weeping Zone by rubbing his back lightly up and down. "Easy there, sir, easy. Rinoa's all right. Squall would never lie to us, sir, I know it, sir."

"Of course not," Squall said in an annoyed voice, "she's in the hospital bay on that ship we just came off of. If you want to see her, go on ahead."

"There! Hear that, sir?" Watts said, still innocently excited. "She's not dead, she's just conked out, that's all, sir!"

Zone had to sneeze, so he blew his nose on his sleeve and took the arm away trailing with green streaks of mucus. Tears were still flowing down his cheeks when he looked up at a disgusted Squall. "Sorry."

"Oh, sir," Watts said, with a little despondence, "you need a new pair of pants."

"I'll have to wear these until we dock at Ganja tomorrow. I have no other."

Selphie shuddered.

"All right, enough enough," Squall said. "We came here to get Ellone. There's a new evil force after her."

"A _new_ evil force, sir?" Watts asked.

"Yes. Makes Edea look like a shy puppy. If we can get Ellone together with Rinoa, we might be able to awaken her."

"Really, sir?!!"

"That's the plan as it stands."

"Listen to that, sir!" he exclaimed to Zone. "Rinoa's gonna be fine!!"

Zone nodded and got up covered in snot. He seemed to drift into some pleasurable luxury of a dream and he presently forgot his current condition. "That would be good, yes."

Squall actually frowned at the response, but he straightened back quickly. Not too quickly for Quistis, though, who smiled at the slight tinge of jealousy provoked in Squall's mind. "Is Ellone here?" Squall asked.

"I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with this Ellone girl, sir," Watts said, "but did she have short brown hair and did she wear a white dress--"

"--with a sexy green shawl around her waist," Zone said out loud.

Irvine and Zell immediately snapped him a dirty look, and even Squall did the same.

"Do you ogle every girl that comes your way?" Quistis asked, disgusted.

Zone looked back and forth between all of them and slowly left with red, rosy cheeks.

"Yes," Squall said through gritted teeth, "that does sound like a pretty accurate description.

"Ah, I'm afraid she's not here, sir," Watts said sadly.

"The fuck do you mean she's not here?"

"Squall, temper man," Zell said.

"Fuck that!" The gunblader's eyes were bright blue. "Where is she?!!"

"Sh-Sh-She left when some other ships came, sir!" Watts stammered.

"Other ships? What other ships?"

"Ooh," he muddled, "info, info, info. I know I've seen those ships somewhere before."

"Watts..." Squall seethed, angrily tapping his foot.

"I'm thinking, sir! Esthar!!" he answered loudly, snapping his finger with delight.

Squall saw White SeeDs perk at the mention of the name, but they did nothing to further respond. "Esthar! Why Esthar?"

"I don't know, sir! There was a lot of confusion, sir, a big battle on the high seas was going or something like that, I don't know I was hiding behind a wine barrel! But I saw her run across the deck, sir, and she leapt onto the bow and shouted to the other ships, sir. She was smiling when she jumped over to their ship, sir!"

Squall shook his head fitfully, and the others scratched the back of their heads. "That doesn't make sense," Irvine admitted.

"Where's Captain Tracy?" Squall demanded.

"Below deck, sir, below deck!"

Squall left abruptly, leaving poor Watts to fidget endlessly. He was on the verge of pissing his pants as well. Quistis followed fast, while Zell, Selphie and Irvine remained out on the deck to talk with the White SeeDs for their side of information.

Squall angrily stormed into the captain's room, a little too forcefully for his liking. However, a wave of angry emotions were conflicting him. He just could not help himself. Captain Tracy was alone looking at a large brown globe of the earth with several stickered flags docking certain hotspots. He was drinking some alcohol and spat some into the air in surprise when his door was flung violently open. Squall wa midway through unleashing a torrent of vitrolic language when Quistis brought down his arm and whispered something in his ear. The Captain saw Squall hesitate, sigh angrily and then slowly relax his nerves.

"Master Squall," Tracy said in shock, "whatever is the matter?"

Squall took in another breath, closed his eyes and then let out the breath and walked over to him. "I'll get to that in a minute. You see, I just have a whole lot on my mind."

"Perfectly understandable, sir," Tracy said putting down his glass and walking over to meet him halfway.

"Here's Edea's notarized letter. She has been anxious as well to meet you, however she and her husband are still at the orphanage. They might travel with us back to Fisherman's Horizon."

Tracy took the note and read its length, smiling at the end. "I recognize her handwriting anywhere, the beautiful loopy scrawl. She really did give this to you. It is really good to see more SeeDs that were raised for a long time by her. She truly is a wonderful woman."

"Absolutely," Quistis said, joining them, "she was the mother that I never had."

"Mine, too, mine too," he said, smiling.

"Edea is no longer," Squall said to Tracy's delight. "We believe she shall stay this way unless the Sorceress that controlled her is in desperate times. Ultimecia is attempting to unearth Adel once more."

"Damn," Tracy shuddered, "no on this earth can afford for that to happen again."

"Indeed, but we must focus on one thing at a time, what with the shit happening on the western continent right now. We can safely say that there is one bright spot in a sea of murkiness, though."

"Indeed," Tracy smiled, saluting Squall. "We thank you for your bravery at Lighthouse Pointe. Sometimes I envy you combat SeeDs, however I think our duty is just as brave."

"Absolutely," Squall said, and Quistis nodded in agreement. "Tracy, where is Ellone?"

Tracy broke his gaze away, and Squall's heart sank. "She is not here," he said sadly.

"Dammit," Quistis cursed softly.

"Where?" Squall made out, choking on the word.

"She is highly important to you, I can tell," Tracy said, his voice full of concern.

"More than you can imagine."

Tracy nodded and kept his head down and walked slowly over to the window of his room. He stared at the rolling sea waters and the red, red terrain of Centra for a long time. He sighed, "It was a surreal experience."

_

* * *

Ellone walked on board the White SeeD ship and met old faces that she thought she would never see again. Young children and working lads stopped tending the ship for several seconds to embrace her. Some were filthy with sea salt and some were really shy, but she embraced them all and spoke sweetly and softly with the entire lot. When Tracy had reintroduced her to all of them, she had managed to sneak one last look north and the great expanse of bridge bookending Fisherman's Horizon was melting away in the distance. Even at this distance, a small golden speck of light smacked her eye and she knew that the was the ivory tower of Balamb Garden. After all this time, her second meeting with Squall Leonhart and Quistis Trepe and the surprising but delightful meeting with the new brunette girl gave her much joy. It was always a bear to do things in the "connect" way, but that got her close the five of them and with Laguna-- which was opening her eyes wider than she had previously known._

_ It was a grand experience, and she found all of the White SeeDs to be entertaining folk when their sea duties were completed. The drunkeness was not entirely pleasing, but the songs were. The two Timber men, Zone and Watts, took her a while to remember them, but she eventually remembered Watts's bashfulness and Zone's hyperactive state (to put it nicely) and she humored the two men in their overzealous states for at least three nights._

_ They all managed to encounter the peaks of Centra when a large Galbadian armada emerged behind a vaunting Centran island. Her heart raced to her throat, and Tracy felt a shock convulse his veins. Confusion and chaos seized all of them, but Ellone kept her cool and herded all the younglings together in Tracy's room. The White SeeDs manned the six gun batteries. They had enough ammunition to fire off ten rounds from each battery, and that was it. The Galbadians had thirteen ships each with at least sixty guns. There looked to be at least eight thousand men in front of them, compared to not even a hundred on their side._

_ One of the blugu ships blared a loud and obnoxious horn and propelled the ship fast towards the small white serpentine vessel. For horrible kicks, one of the trigger-happy gunners launched out a crushing cannonball with a direct hit on the ship's engine room. Warning bells clocked in immediately down below, and at least three people were dead. It was hopeless to even fight back, for they were coming at too fast a clip. Tracy knew they were after Ellone, and he was flabbergasted at how they managed to stake out a claim on Centra. He cursed his luck and frivolity, and just as the Galbadian vessel came with a hundred yards he emerged onto the gangplank his sword out and at the ready._

_ Strange movement alerted Tracy and his crew's attention, followed by a severe direct hit to the closing Galbadian ship. Within seconds, five more concrete blasts exploded the ship into millions of pieces sending all five hundred men into the sea in a brim of fiery oil. Tracy looked in shock as thirty Estharian ships swarmed into view. Massive slick green ships surged across the ocean slamming barrages of missiles at the remaining Galbadian ships. Loud, blaring horns sounded all over the Galbadian field and three of the vessels turned tail and flew. The other nine did the unthinkable and fired back. The White SeeDs looked on in horror as their damaged and broken ship stayed a mere football field away from titanic monsters of ships destroying each other. The Estharians completely destroyed five Galbadian ships before one Estharian ship fell to pieces. One Galbadian vessel managed to lift off some aerial gunners, but the Estharians shot them down with effortless ease. One greenie ship pulled up to a blugu, and the two navies battled with swords, and it was a bloody mess of bodies that both fascinated and frightened the White SeeDs._

_ The small torn vessel went into greater shock when one Estharian ship pulled up next to theirs. Twenty Estharian sailors immediatey hopped on and did not brandish their guns. Tracy's immediate subordinates flanked him, but they were extremely frightened at the presence of these elusive soldiers. Were they not supposed to be kept up in that enigma of a city?_

_ The greenies did not demand; they merely encouraged the SeeDs to come onto their ship for the serpentine vessel was starting to sink. The White SeeDs refused, out of fright more than anything else. The Estharians knew their fears, and they signalled for some of their equipment for the SeeDs to use. However, they now politely demanded that the SeeDs abandon their discrepancies and come aboard their ship. As they said that, both an Estharian and a Galbadian ship blew up. Only two blugu ships remained, but they were fighting to their deaths, which were staining the seas brightly crimson. The White SeeDs still refused, and the Estharians reluctantly relented and prepared to leave._

_ They made their vessel, but a feminine shout alerted them. Tracy and his crew looked at Ellone crying and running fiercely. The greenies gasped in shock and tossed her rope to come aboard. Tracy shouted for her to get back, and she looked back and forth. The greenies told her something that the White SeeDs could not immediately pick up on. They saw Ellone smile big and give a little gasp. She asked them to repeat, and they repeated in a sincere manner. She smiled even bigger, looked back at the White SeeDs and then hopped onto the greenie's vessel. A loud klaxon, more screechier than the Galbadians, sounded off, and the entire Estharian fleet departed. The grabbed their fighting greenies, hauled them off, and then blew up the last two Galbadian ships and then sailed away to the horizon in the general direction of Esthar._

* * *

Tracy sighed. "We managed to dock in these shallow waters, and we've been repairing our ship here this past month, waiting to go to Esthar to retrieve her. I don't know why she did that, Squall. It was the strangest thing I have ever seen. I am terribly sorry, Squall, Quistis. We couldn't protect her."

"It is alright, Tracy," Quistis said. "No one could predict something like that."

Squall felt that his head was about to explode. He held it in his palm for a few seconds and pressed hard. "So.... Ellone is in Esthar?"

Tracy nodded. "We believe so, sir."

Squall nodded, and kept nodding for a long while. He then clicked his heels and saluted Captain Tracy. "Thank you for hosting us on your ship. May you have safety in your repairs."

Tracy smiled and saluted. "Thank you, Master Squall, for taking the fight to the enemy."

Squall smiled and dropped his salute and turned to Quistis. "Make reports to Mayor Dobe and Duke Haydyn. We leave as a group to Fisherman's Horizon, establish posts surrounding Balamb Garden and then head immediately into Esthar."

Quistis took a breath. "With pleasure, Commander."

* * *

"Esthar, huh?" Headmaster Cid asked. Squall and Quistis nodded their heads, and Zell, Irvine and Selphie looked worried at Edea's solemn face. "That'll be a bit of a toil." He gave an exasperated sigh.

Squall grunted. "Toil or not, we need to go."

"Indeed," Edea said, almost sadly. "It'll be a long and complex journey, but I think it'll be most fruitful."

"You have business there?" Squall asked.

"I think it would behoove all of us. Not just myself or yourself, Squall."

Squall blinked.

"A one Doctor Odine that works at the great central processing building in the metropolis of Esthar may have information that answer my-- _our_ questions about my powers."

Squall widened his eyes. _Didn't think about that._

"Wait," Selphie asked, "how do you know about that when Esthar has been virtually closed off the maps for over a decade?"

"Because the man is almost eighty years old. He's been around for _five_ decades as the head of the central processing building long before the Adel troubles."

"Ah..."

"Well, what are we waiting for?!!" Zell shouted.

"Edea," Cid started.

"My love," she replied, soothing his cheek, "this is something we all must do. I'm going to need you to watch Haydyn's back. I am afraid he will be too stubborn and hold up Dollet all by himself. If that is the case, I need you to hold strong at FH. We need as much breathing room as we can possibly get."

Cid grunted and looked away, but she brought his gaze back to her. The young SeeDs had never seen the Headmaster in such an affectionate position, and they mindlessly watched the older couple's love grow strong between them in that one defining moment. He relented under her green-eyed gaze and cupped her hand with his.

The Centran commander was carefully walking up to them, and Cid looked up. "Everybody onboard! Let's head for the Horizon!"

"Sweet!" Zell said, jumping into the air.

"Booyaka!!" Selphie cheered and ran onboard, followed by a laughing Irvine.

Squall breathed in once and followed the rest of them onboard and made a beeline straight for the hospital bay. Angelo was waiting next to her, and Squall gently sat next to the both of them and resorted back to his old thinking self again.

* * *

The riots still raged in Galbadia City. So badly even that the motorcade had to be proceeded in heavily armed calvary. A few protestors were even shot dead through the brain. While Deling was thoroughly controlled and itching to invade Dollet, Galbadia was further crumbling among the citizenry. The bulk of the Army had now rejoined the Deling Guard in fighting off the rioting masses, while a select few remained in Centra to dig up the Pandora.

Premier Whigham waited for his distinguished guest, and the blonde haired gunblader swept into the congressional building with a vengeful presence. The assembly hall was packed with all six hundred members of the parliament, and the sounds of the violence outside did not disturb in the slightest. There were a million people protesting and roughly four hundred thousand military, assassin and riot police barrelling through the streets. A death toll in the tens of thousands was mounting. Parks were burned, schools were destroyed, hospitals were cleaved, residential homes were flattened. There was no place to run to except Dollet, which was now becoming overcrowded and overwhelmed with militamen. The dam was about to burst.

Seifer Almasy strode in with all this weight pressing down, with tensions thick and patience thin. Raijin and Fujin helplessly followed behind in fine wares alloted to them by Centran seamstresses accordingly for their rank in the so-called Sorceress's army. Seifer's eyes were blazing blue, and a hideous glow was encompassing him. His Hyperion blade gleamed with fiery passion.

The Speaker of the House stayed at his podium and dared not to move. "Do you sir," he addressed Seifer who continued his slow agonizing pace towards the man, all eyes nervously following him, "understand what is going on outside?"

Seifer cocked his blade and fired a shell straight through the Speaker's face, blowing his brains onto the clerks seated behind him. Several members of the House rose to their feet, but Raijin and Fujin instinctively backed them down to their seats with an unleashing of their weapons. The snap of the quarterstaff and the sickly flick of her sai and daggers shut the massive room quiet in a heartbeat. The gunblader shimmied up to the podium and nonchalantly kicked the corpse out of the way. "Do I understand what is going on outside? Puh-lease, ladies and gentlemen."

A tremor stirred in all of them. Those eyes were bright blue.

"While you lazy suited thugs wallow away on your taxpayer-funded money and lobbying cash troves in this dank, disgusting hellhole of a building, your gracious military is efficiently holding back the masses with every means they can muster. The little people fight back with sticks and stones and pretty words that include _God_ and _mercy_ and _democracy_ and all that other bullshit." He spat into the crowd and laughed. "History is always made up of these fools. In fact... heh... some of them are even sitting in this room right now. Now, all of you are rich beyond even just ten of those citizens combined out there. None of you go home to an empty fridge, a leak in your roof, ailing children who cannot get medical care. Indeed, you all get the best that this world has to offer, and that's what a so-called democratic country is all about!

"Democracy, pah! Full of shit. Just take a look at every democratic country-- all 52 of them-- that have occurred in the pages of history on this planet. Every last fucking one of them failed! Every one. Because the people in power are not poor, they're not suffering, they can never be without. None of their constituents are represented by them, for how can a poor man have any voice when he doesn't have money or clout? How can his and his wife's and their children's wants be satisfied. Hell, how can their _needs_ be satisfied? Especially in the rank destitute areas where all the darker-skinned people live in? Galbadia and Deling are not new to this equation, indeed they arrive at a very late date. You think that by doing so, they would take a gander at the past and maybe, just maybe, improve a little.

"But... no. Not in the slightest."

The assembly did one collective gulp.

"I'm not here in Galbadia City to condone what's going on outside. I have come to realize that in order to get what you want...._everybody_ must take the fall. So... here's the plan. There are two ways that all of you will get out of this chamber. One lets you live a little longer for ... heh... _just a little bit longer_. The other kills you all right here and now." He let that soak in a bit. "If you choose to live, then I would like to make an early intoduction to Miss Adel for you."

A collective gasp cried out, and a few Senators shouted obscenities.

"Oh ho. I see some people are tired of living already."

"You lie!!" someone shouted.

"The Knights never lie," he answered hideously.

Raijin clicked his tongue and revealed a piece of the Lunatic Pandora that glowed brightly the colors of Sorceress Adel, a trifle that none in the chamber ever wanted to see. Some puked in the chamber, while others grasped each other in fright.

"The vessel is almost fully dug up, my lords. In less than a week's time, she shall roam forward into Esthar and fly to Tear's Point. The madam herself shall fly down into it once she gets a little help from the outside. Hahahaha."

"I will not have any part of this!" cried out a Senator from the Winhill region.

Seifer cocked his gunblade and blew the man's neck in two.

The chamber quieted down, yet several people grunted angrily.

"I'm going out _my_ way!!" cried out another Senator, and she took out a cyanide pill and downed it, instantly choking. She somehow forced herself to keep it down, and she frothed at the mouth and her eyes rolled back in her head.

Seifer watched with glee, and Raijin and Fujin tried to keep as strong as they possibly could. Thirty more MPs committed the same fate, but the others nervously stayed put in their seats.

"Any more?" Seifer asked.

No one responded.

"Then head for Fort Drum southeast of here. By nightfall, the people will be subdued. We will morph into an amalgamation with Deling City and then advance onto Dollet. Take everyone who does not resist prisoner. Burn and destroy the rest."

Seifer cocked his gunblade in a menacing way, before twirling it effortlessly into the air and down into his scabbard. Walking as if on a sunny day in the park, he strolled out of the bloody and shell-shocked chamber and already the riots were dying down.

* * *

Three days across the ocean, Fisherman's Horizon came in sight. The Garden had at least a hundred men working on it, sautering, fixing and adding. A massive crowd of people awaited the Centran ships with banners commending Squall and his friends for their brave and valiant work. Liquor was flowing freely through some in the crowd.

The three ships docked, and Rinoa's bed was wheeled down and through the city towards a medical station on the outskirts of the far end. Headmaster Cid and Edea went to have a talk with Mayor Dobe, and Squall and his friends loitered around the pier lost in thought. There was too much to think about in this day and age.

Something caught Squall's eye, and he demanded a spyglass be brought into his hand. Mila found one in a storage box, and she handed it to him across some concerned looks from Selphie and Irvine. Squall put the instrument to his eye and stared at pilotless drones encircling a cove beach on the Galbadian continent. He twisted the zoom gears and witnessed Deling signatures written on the sides.

He brought the spyglass down and sighed. "They're wasting no time." He tossed the instrument to Zell's grasp, and the antsy brawler made a look for himself before drawing a shrill whistle. Squall grunted angrily and pushed past his friends towards Cid and Dobe who had begun walking along the pier. "Sirs!" he shouted at both.

"Ah, Master Leonhart," Dobe replied in a more appreciative voice, even though it was still lightly tinged with annoyance at the young man's violent streak. "Are you feeling okay today?"

"As.. okay as it can get. Listen, the western continent over there is teeming with activity."

"No kidding," Cid said, handing Squall a piece of paper, "take a look at this."

The paper was a draft report ordering all Galbadian and Delinger citizens to enlist at once into the combined so-called Super Guard to fill in the places decimated in the attack at Lighthouse Pointe. Any able-bodied man who refused was shot on sight. The women and children were being forced to work in the Galbadian munitions factories to pump out the bombs, tanks, drones, and guns needed for the planned offensives in Dollet, Fisherman's Horizon and Esthar.

Squall smacked the paper against his thigh. "Great fucking shit."

"Now, now," Cid said, "let me, Dobe and Haydyn handle the first two fronts of this prong. We need you all to escort Edea into Esthar, well, _find_ Esthar to begin with and then escort her in."

Squall started to say something but only managed an irritated sigh.

"Haydyn says the attack won't come until about a week, because the two lands are operating with a new component in this fight."

"What?"

"We're not sure," Dobe said. "Something from Centra, though. Recent reports these last three days have showed an alarming activity rate coming out of the central part of it."

"We're hoping it's not what we speculate it to be," Cid said.

"And what is that?" Squall asked.

"Ancient relics from the Sorceress War," Dobe said, depressed.

"Stuff that these good people on the Horizon never want to see again," Cid added.

That thought was unsettling. Squall shuddered a bit, involuntarily. "So... _our_ goal is just to get Edea to Esthar."

"That's right. The Garden is getting repaired extremely quickly. Within five days, she should be all set to fend off the Super Guard for at least a little while."

Squall widened his eyes.

Cid laughed and put his arm around the SeeD's shoulder. "You think this is a foolhardy mission, but this is actually a solid endeavor. We have a fortitude of appeal here. We have Centran, Horizon, Balambian, Dolletian and Trabian forces against the Super Guard. Plus, those western citizens are being forced to fight us, so their morale should be really low. This is something that we all hate to do, but we cannot let these western leaders awaken anymore nightmares like what we had two decades ago. Edea has some business left to do here-- to draw more support. You all shall leave first thing tomorrow morning."

Squall was silent, and then he smiled slowly and saluted Cid. "Will do, sir."

Cid looked at him a bit and then smiled and saluted as well. Squall about-faced and left the two men watching him solemnly on the pier. The young Commander walked with a purpose across the whole length of the pier and past his friends who were engaged in deep conversations with citizens of the city, and they did not see him pass.

He sighed deeply. _Cannot afford to wait for this_, he said to himself.

He lost all feeling in his limbs, and he could have sworn that his surroundings were starting to glow as he walked through one of the main market streets. For a second, he thought he had lost the path to the facility, but he knew where he was going. There were so many things churning on at the same time, so many dangers, so many vices, so many thrills. Admist an offensive that could potentially kill thousands more people than what happened during the missile strikes, riots and battle at Centra there was one overriding thing pressing against his mind. One little thing that dogged his sleep during the three-day journey from Centra to the Horizon. Really, had dogged him ever since the curing of Edea at Galbadia Garden. He just couldn't get his mind around it. Each step he took felt weighted with stones, and he was aware only slightly that several people he passed looked at him funny. His jaw muscles clenched together with strain and stress, for he was doing something that he shouldn't be doing-- but why was he doing it!

He stopped briefly to ponder that in an instant and then continued walking, for the facility had just come into view. All of this for a woman whom, by all accounts, he had treated pretty poorly over the lone three months they had known each other. For some strange reason, she had elected to stay as a member of his group and had constantly eyed him, teased him, annoyed him, made him so irritable he could hardly stand it. But he was intrigued over all else.

He came to the door and knew he wouldn't find it easy. However, it was close to the evening hours, and the Sun was beginning to settle against the waves of the sea. There shouldn't be too many people. He opened the door and found two people behind a desk filing papers. One of them looked up and smiled, "Ah, good evening Commander. We were about ready to close up shop for today. Night staff was going to come in to check up on her. The dog's here... too..."

The other staffer looked up, worried as well, as Squall came around the desk.

"I'm afraid she's not going to stay here for the night, good sir," Squall replied, clenching his fist.

"N-N-Now wait a minute--" said the first staffer, before Squall's palm grabbed his throat and pressed against his jugular vein and carotid artery. The chokehold knocked him out, and the second staffer attempted to call the police button, but Squall's other hand immediately shot out and placed the same treatment.

A nurse appeared around the corner and gasped. Squall drew the Punishment out on her. "Any other people in here?!!"

"N-N-N-No, s-sir, no!"

"Get out, and don't say a word to anyone... at least right away, understand!"

"Y-Yes, sir. Master L-Leonhart, she needs to stay here to recouperate--"

"Get out!" he yelled with a menacing wave of his sword.

The nurse hurried out the door, and Squall sheathed his blade. A bit excessive even by his standards, but he shook his head and went through the halls. He checked about a dozen rooms before he saw her and her dog. Angelo whimpered up at him, but Squall ignored him and found some tools in a nearby closet.

"It's going to be a long walk," he said to no one in particular. Smashing open a case he pulled out a harness brace and two straps and suited it up on him, applying his legs taut and back ready to bear her weight. He walked into her room and sat next to her on her bed.

Again, he was floored by her beauty. Her hands clasped together upon her stomach, her shoulder-length brown hair flowing against the sides of her neck onto the tops of her breasts, the silver and golden streaks that ran along her eyelashes and the sides of her ears, the creamy pink skin. He admired her sensuousness that had once before shocked him into a realm he had not ever traced in before. Now, just being with her calmed him, and he longed to hear her voice once more.

He placed his hand on her forehead and stroked her hair away from her eyes. "Rinoa," he said quietly, "it's time to go."

He heard Angelo whimper, and he looked at the mutt who was intently watching what Squall was doing. Squall slid his arm underneath her lower back and propper her into a sitting position with her legs dangling over the side of the bed. A slight sharp breath expelled from her nose and partially through a small gape between her lips, startling him for a second. He had the craziest notion that she had awoke! Not so easily, of course. He sighed sadly and turned around, shoving first one of her legs into the brace and then the other. He hooked her arms around his chest and then stood up. Her weight fell onto his back, but the brace kept her from falling down. He didn't realize before how uncomfortable this could get, but he didn't care. It had to be done.

"I'm sorry, y'all," he said suddenly aloud. "I... I can't live on like this. Living without a purpose while so many shades of color pass me by."

He felt heavy after that, not by her but by something far deeper. He breathed in once and exhaled loudly and turned for the door. Angelo was blocking him. He gave a little bark and shook his head.

"Come on, boy, I need to go."

Angelo barked again and crouched down, looking to make himself comfortable there.

The two had a staring match for some time, before Squall decided that he actually like being around the mangy hound. The dog gave him the memories of her that he longed to have so much in his life. "All right, Angelo. Come with me."

The dog's tongue came out, and he panted happily and got out of the way. The two walked out of the room, and Squall stopped. "Better to not go out the front, right boy?"

Angelo barked, nodded and trotted over down the opposite hall.

"An exit down there?"

The dog led him there, and Squall looked through the vent. Nobody around and a clear shot to the bridge. He kicked open the door, and Angelo raced out and looked around as a lookout. Finding nothing, he barked and Squall followed him out. The two of them walked carefully out of sight and out of mind of everyone in the city, as the sun went halfway down against the swirling waves. The two of them got to the foot of the bridge without meeting a soul. The young Commander stopped at the entrance to the eastern span of bridge and looked back at the heart of the city. The gleaming top of Balamb Garden, now fortified with an exuberant pale ivory tower almost in completion, rested comfortably somewhere in the middle of the city. One of the Centran ships was also visible. He smiled awkwardly at what he was doing, before looking back at the resting head of his desire. "Ellone will bring us together, I'm sure of it. Once we find her, we'll settle these international affairs together. Just wait a little bit longer."

He sighed once more and turned for the bridge with the dog waiting for him some several yards up. "It's a bit far," he said to her, "but we'll make it." He smiled at that assurance and set foot on the bridge.

The Sun was setting, but it was still warm in this November setting-- being near the equator and all. Angelo and he walked in silence, with Rinoa silent as well bobbing up and down on his back. The bridge was a quaint straighshot to the eastern continent, and from their position they could see an almost orangish and golden tinge lighting up the distant horizon. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of lights lined the edges of the bridgespan, and each of them had their flourescent wattage turned on to illuminate the length in a ghostly green color. Little activity occurred out in the water, except for some flying fish gracing the surface and a couple shark fins lightly touching then eclipsing. They walked for at least an hour, before Squall began to sigh and laugh a bit.

"It's pretty far," he joked. Angelo barked in response that sounded affirmative at most. "Heh, I didn't think it would be this far."

Angelo barked again and then noticed that Squall had stopped, so he turned around and waited. Squall, however, had a thinking expression on his face again and Angelo instinctively knew that he was going to place Rinoa down on the ground for a few minutes. Which he did. He left her in the brace, and he went to rest against a lightpole and dangle his feet over the edge of the bridge.

"Heh. What am I doing?"

Angelo pawed at his face-- the mutt couldn't believe his ears.

Squall pressed his forehead with both of his hands and rubbed vigorously. "Go to Esthar. Find Ellone. Talk to Ellone. Then.....argh!" He angrily hit the side of the lamppost. "Dammit. There's no guarantee that any of this will be fixed!"

Angelo only stared, the wind gently moving his fur.

The anger had vanished when he took another look at her. "Even so," he drawled, "I can't sit back." He looked back west, where the Horizon was gently washing away into the horizon itself. "I bet they're pretty pissed right now. Or maybe they're laughing at me... thinking I'm some heartthrob fool doing this." He chuckled to himself, before turning back to Rinoa. "What do you think?"

He half-expected her to answer.

He grunted. "Tell you the truth. I... worry too much about what others think about me. It's not healthy, I know, but I've grown so used to it. I hate it, though, it's why I never wanted people to get to know me.... including.... you. I wanted to hide that side of myself from you." He scratched the back of his head. "People say 'Oh that's just Squall over there. He's an unfriendly, introverted guy that hates everybody and loves no one. Don't go near him, or he'll bite yer head off!'"

He laughed a little bit. "That made it easy for me to deal with people... when they perceived me like that. Seifer excelled at that, of course that was a mutual disagreement. Quistis was too bossy to even express any type of sentimental feelings. Zell was a douchebag, but a kind man at heart when he wasn't beating something up. Selphie...er...too damn bubbly and not enough in the brains department. Irvine was just sleazy... even though sometimes he would have clarity."

He looked at her, with her pretty head tilted slightly against an outcropping in the bridge. "But you...you weren't any of those personalities. Irritating sometimes, though. Then again... so am I. But... you...there's just... something about you. I don't have any words to express it. I'm not that good."

Angelo watched, quietly panting.

"Let's just that keep that a secret between you and me, okay?" he laughed nervously. "That includes you, too, pooch."

Angelo barked in approval.

Squall got up and stretched. He took a look at the setting sun and enjoyed the warmth against his skin. He bent down towards Rinoa and took in her scent, which was quite faint at this point but still able to sway him silly. He gently cupped the back of her head with his hand and pressed his forehead against the coldness of hers. "Rinoa..." he said breathlessly, helplessly. "I can't quit you."

He saddled her back up on his back and continued with Angelo in tow down the span of the bridge, his eyes clouding in tears for the first time since his childhood.


	29. Wasteland

_As the bombs rage on,_

_A walk across the Great Lake_

_Churns up the salt lands_

Duke Haydyn had never met the Knight before in person, but now that the chance had arrived on him he was very much disgusted with the sight. The visage of Master Almasy was painted in falsehood in its entirety-- a quirky, lighthearted and immaturish glee. It was the look of a man that could have easily been pushed over were it not for the dreadful succubus energy swirling within his eyes and glowing upon his skin. From the moment of introduction, the Duke could detect a hyperactive malice that could be unleashed so unwittingly within the vices of the man and so easily manipulated by stronger forces. The Duke was an old man, but he was positive he could probably take on this Knight when his magic powers weren't activated.

The gunblader himself was lounging in one of his seats in the newly renovated office chainsmoking cigarettes with a furious passion. His two closest aides, trembling figures in their own right, waited patiently as did he for the Duke to respond to the nasty little present the Super Guard was leaving on his doorstep.

Haydyn produced a handkerchief from his jacket and wiped his forehead vigorously. "So... Mr. Almasy--"

"--Oh do please refer to me in the _proper_ accolades, kind sir." A shine gleamed from his teeth-filled smile.

Haydyn smiled. "Of course. Where are my manners anyway, _Sir_ Almasy."

"Spasiba," Seifer said, smiling broadly.

"Well, now. So, I've got an army of 200,000 reluctant conscripts situated on the plains of Montereasu, 10,000 pilotless drones and twenty supertankers from Deling City on my way now?"

"Oh, they're already here. I just have to give the word."

Haydyn sighed. "This is some short notice, you are aware of that."

"Fuck your notice. Be lucky the Lunatic Pandora doesn't come here to decimate your little port town. The radiation effects would be slow and time-consuming leaving your sea dog people to suffer for almost a year or so in agony before finally... haha... dying."

"The Lunatic Pandora? That monstrosity has been sealed up for over twenty years."

"What can be easily concealed can just as easily be dug up. Especially if you have disposable Centran people to do the digging."

"How many did you waste to get the skyscraper?"

"At least 15,000. Wiped out three whole settlements of people plus the nomadic tribes on the southern edge of the Estharian continent."

"And you...you feel okay about this?"

"Okay? You shit-stained fuck. I don't care about all you silly humans and cities and cultures. You all waste your time with diplomatic efforts to bring about democracy and stability."

"What about the disaster on Lighthouse Pointe? The devil you worship now infected Edea Kramer before and consumed many souls on this western continent-- including powerful rulers and leaders-- before finally forcing myself and the mayors of Balamb, Trabia and the Horizon to fight you on those red lands. Tens of thousands people died there. The environment is polluted and has caused the deaths of thousands more in the Centran and Galbadian settlements around the area of the battle."

Seifer had been drinking some of the Duke's fine wine. He burped at the end of the Duke's speech and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Raij, you hear this old fuck?"

"Yea, I hear," he replied in a low voice, "it seems he's ran out of choices ya know?"

"Don't be so daft, boy," Haydyn sternly warned him. "You don't come off as sentimental to your Knight's cause."

"Boy?" Raijin asked, his voice rising. "Did you just call me 'boy'?"

Haydyn raised his eyebrows.

"I may not like these plans, but no fucker ever insults my intelligence, ya know?" He pulled out his quarterstaff, sharpened now at the point, and waved it menacingly at the Duke. "Ya hear that?"

Haydyn only stared at him. Fujin walked to his side and touched his arm. "SILENCE," she said as softly as she could.

"Yeah, the Duke's at a loss," Seifer said calmly. "I believe he's made up his mind."

"You're damn right," Haydyn sighed. "Although I should warn you, Sir Almasy, I've fortified the northern expanse, and the eastern and western is covered by impenetrable canyon walls populated by dangerous animals. If you send your conscription army those three ways, you will make them suffer horrible deaths."

"Well, we are going to rebuild our destroyed prison that your friend Mr. Squall Leonhart blew up. We are actually thinking of using your office here, in all its seven-story expansive glory , as the first brigand of a prison system."

"Never!" Haydyn shouted, slamming his fist on his desk.

"Oh fuck the shenanigans, Duke Haydyn. It's going to happen regardless of your wishes, wants or says." Seifer stood up, cracked his back, and smiled at the seething leader. "So what would you like? Slow and painful? Quick and delerious?"

"How about you go fuck yourself, _Sir_ Almasy."

Seifer pointed and laughed. "Now _that's _a response, ha ha." Clicking his fingers at Raijin and Fujin, the two responded by walking away and alering their generals. Seifer walked two steps and then turned to face him again. "You can alert the Horizon. I'll give you a few seconds to do that. Besides, this room needs a renovation anyway. Something...erm.. a little more eccentric." He laughed his way out of the office, and Haydyn took a long time to sit back down.

It seemed like forever just sitting in that room alone. He stared at the comm translater on his desk, as if he expected it to work automatically. A loud and incessant buzzing sound cracked in his ears, but he didn't bother to shake his head to mitigate it. His thoughts lapsed into one murky stew. The officers of his volunteer army of some 60,000-- he was very happy that Squall had given him 10,000 to work with-- were now going to have to decide for themselves. Would they want to fight to the end, or surrender and amalgamate with the Guard? The force was too much, and the Garden fighers of Squall's crew were too far off. The damn Delingers had mobilized faster than he had suspected. The damn Galbadians had unearthed the Lunatic Pandora. The damn Estharians were mindlessly paying no heed. The damn bitch Adel was coming back.

All was not well in the name of the Earth.

It might've been ten minutes, and he knew he was running out of time. Numbly, he picked up the comlink and clicked a button on the registry. He waited for the clicks to stop churning before the linkup swivvled on.

"Master Haydyn!" Cid Kramer gasped from his blue holographic form. "You are horribly pale."

"Master... Kramer... it is time."

"What?" Cid asked, worried. Other people behind him, probably the mayor and his wife, gasped in horror. "It can't be time. It should be a week from no--"

"No, Cid. Seifer Almasy has just left."

"Damn."

"The Pandora's up, Cid."

"Wh----The...."

"Yes. Evacuate everyone from the Horizon. They are going to Esthar, I am sure. Still, evacuate everyone. NOW!!"

"Squall has left early, Thomas. Edea and the others have gone after him. Without Squall and you here, there won't be a hand of leadership strong enough to ward off the Super Guard."

He heard what sounded like a snap of a missile. "Cid, I have enjoyed my friendship with you. I am glad to have known you all this time."

"No. No, no, no--!"

The missile exploded into the Duke's office on the seventh floor of his estate, and his body split in three fiery chunks that snaked its way down to the earth along with the rest of his crumbling infrastructure. Smoke and fire billowed everywhere.

* * *

"Fuck!!" Cid yelled, slamming his comlink device down. Dollet's transmission remained a static mess, and the Dobes looked distraught as they stared blankly into space. Cid rubbed his forehead vigorously. "We don't even have 10,000 people available."

"What are we going to do?" Dobe asked.

Cid thought a moment. "Evacuate. Exactly as he said."

"Squall left too soon."

"I was once the same as him. Young and foolhardy. However, if we evacuate and pick up as many strays as we can, we will stand a chance."

"With what, Cid? The entire western continent is against us now. They will overrun Dollet and conscript every single one of their citizens. "

"I know!!" he yelled, unexpectedly startling the Mayor. "Still. I have a plan."

"Tell."

"We get the Balambians aware. We hire as many Trabians, Ithians and residents of Nagansett. We alert the Centran navies and the White SeeD. Plus...a secret SeeD force I had created in the wake of Edea's time as a Galbadian representative-- a little unknown force of SeeD assassins called the Blue SeeDs."

"You _actually_ made that group?"

"I did. I was actually intending for Seifer Almasy and Squall Leonhart to join that group, considering they are skilled in gunblades."

"My goodness Cid, you are unbelievable."

"And so is what's going on in the west right now. Alert your citizens Dobe, and have West alert those in the Outer City. We need to get out of here at once!!"

Dobe and his wife sighed and nodded. They took one last long look at their beloved sea town. "What of your Garden, Cid?"

"How is she near completion?"

"About 78%"

"Able to fire up?"

"Barely."

"That's more than enough for me at this point."

* * *

The smaller army watched helplessly as row upon row of spiked drones curled over the reddish-yellow canyon bluffs and circled into the recently completed city. A city that just four months ago had been hit by a devastating round of attacks from the same weapons. The purple lasers that fired from its batteries crushed houses and toppled the skeleton structure of the condominums. Laser fire ripped up the trees in the parks, decimated ships at the port and poured into the marketplace. The first row splashed death onto a large bulk of Dolletian fighters in the central square melting the streets in swaths of bone and blood.

The Dolletians had energy tankers from Fisherman's Horizon and plasma rifles they were able to harness themselves in the rebuilding of the city. They really only had the drones to worry about, for the denizens inhabiting the canyons north, east and west of their beloved city were doing a fair job of stopping the Super Guard army. A few hundred fighters were able to break through, but machine gun fire from several lines of the Dolletians stopped the Galbadians and Delingers from advancing further in.

Several tanks fired off shots at the drones and took out ten before a large number of tanks were downed. A massive blast from a protruding arm in a larger drone uprooted fifteen Dolletians and sent their bodies in shards across the city. Another explosion ripped open a temple, two schools and a hospital. Plasma fire and the surviving tanks took down several more of the drones, before a loud blaring horn emerged from ten approaching supertankers drifting close to the pier. The ships anchored and several thousand members of the Guard poured in and surrounded the perimeters of the city. More hurled in from the northern entrance destroying the satellite communications tower in the process. 20,000 Dolletians had been slaughtered in such a short clip of time that the survivors timidly laid down their arms and piled into a large cluster in the center of the city near the damaged estate of the dead Thomas Haydyn. The surviving pilotless drones formed a tight radius around the city and held the citizens at gunpoint.

Panic plagued the Dolletian army, and the enemy soldiers and marine squads pushed all the way through the city until they were within a yard away from them. Truck squads poured in from the north, and one of them was painted in brilliant colors. Three very happy people sat in the plush seats, with one of them having a very sickly smirk on his face. The colorful truck stopped in front of the massive epicenter of the surrendered Dolletians, and the Knight hopped out carrying a brightly colored ball in his hands.

"Excellent, ladies and gentlemen, excellent. You've let these fine young citizens be martyers for your cause. Whatever that could be." He gave a spritely laugh. "So... now what will it be? Young Leonhart has been consummated for the time being, so you cannot rely on him at this moment. Shall you be prisoners in your own city or fighters for the Super Guard?"

"Never fight for you!!" rang out several army leaders, followed by large shouts of various wings of the surrendered soldiers.

Seifer looked at them all, and then broke out a slow and devillish grin. "_That's_ what I wanted to hear!"

The ball in his hand glowed and a bright orange halo rose and fluttered within it. The sphere emitted a yellow gas, and the force of a sonic boom jammed straight out of it and felled the bulk of the crowd to their backs, causing a sharp lacerating wound to appear on their chests. Some of the elderly and pregnant died immediately, while others were mortally wounded. The whole crowd cowered to their feet, and the ones already flattened on their backs assumed immediate submissive behavior.

Raijin got a pennant with the Super Guard insignia and somersaulted up to a razed platform and planted the pole straight into the rook. Spinning his quarterstaff wildly in the air, he gave a shout of joy and the loyalists of the Guard army joined in the chorus. Seifer lit a cigarette and smiled proudly at the plan that was thus far in accordance with his mistress's wishes. He nudged Fujin who looked up at him fearfully. "Enslave those worthy enough to fight into our league. Imprison and torture the rest."

"WILL DO."

* * *

Angelo trotted faithfully off the end of the bridge and onto the gravelly sand. Dark brown pebbles and stones rested loosely on golden sand. Swirling mists of dust billowed in a slight breeze above the stones, and a few stray dislodged units broke apart and jumped across the earth. A derelict oil refinery and an abandoned railway depot littered the surroundings nearest the mutt, and a orangish haze flickered in the distant horizon. It was nighttime now, and the sky was filled with stars and a speckle of cloud.

The dog looked this way and that and found nothing out of place before giving a bark of approval. His masters appeared then out of an alcove in the bridge. Rinoa was sliding down a bit in his harness, and he was getting tired. Squall sighed sadly and walked over to the oil refinery, placing her gently down by a flickering lamppost. His shoulders and back ached from carrying her a distance of ten miles, and it had been a long trek with nothing particularly pleasing to catch his eye. He did, however, felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise several times on the bridge-- as if something was watching him. He found no trace of any object to his dissatisfaction.

Not just him either. Angelo had on numerous occasions peered over the edge of the bridge and barked at the water. Each time nothing was found.

He shrugged off those thoughts as best as he could and rubbed his shoulders and then his back. He winced when several bones in his body cracked from his pressure. It had been a while since he had properly worked out, and he half-hoped he wouldn't run into any bestial encounters while carrying Rinoa on his back.

A nagging thought caught him and he patted his jacket. No cigarettes. He sighed angrily and sat hard on his ass. He held his head in his hands and shook it slowly. "Of course. Just my luck."

Angelo barked again, scaring the crap out of him. The dog ran to the edge of the bridge and barked again at the water. Squall jumped to his feet and unsheathed the Punishment from his scabbard. He loaded in two buckshots of the strongest shotgun ammo gunstores could offer--AM shells they liked to call them, or Aftershock Methods with the stigma that they resembled the aftershock effects of earthquakes. Cocking the chamber, he walked quickly to the water's edge and searched for the sign of the troubles. He knew Angelo wasn't lying, for he felt the presence as well. The sword searched all along the brink but found nothing.

Angelo whimpered and looked at his master.

"I know, boy, I feel it too. The fuck is going here?"

Something yellow shone through the water, and he and Angelo let out a gasp and hobbled backwards. A massive yellow vessel straddled the beach and brought up a mist of waves. It beached up onto the stone-strewn earth, and the hull opened up revealing a very excited Selphie Tilmitt in the driver's seat. Irvine stumbled out looking mighty drunk, except he was actually woozy from Selphie's piloting--which wasn't exactly the best in the world. Zell and Quistis hopped out after him, followed by the driver herself and Mila. Squall wasn't quite sure why she was there, but she immediately clinged onto Zell's shoulder, and he rolled his eyes. A dafty-looking scepter was on her beltloop, and he figured she had finally mastered her magicka skills good enough to perform combat. Last but not least, Edea herself walked a little sick from the ride but still maintaining a pleasant persona.

"Yep," Squall sighed. "Just my luck."

"We thought you would see us a bit," Irvine said, straightening out his fedora and leather trenchcoat. "She was bringing us too close to the surface."

"The hell is that thing?" Squall asked pointing at it with an unimpressed look.

"Hey!" Selphie said. "Don't diss the Dolphin, okay!"

"The Dolphin?"

"Yeah," Irvine explained, "the FHers call it a Dolphin. It's an Estharian piece of technology that allows naval units to attack enemies underwater. Apparantly, Selphie can pilot anything."

"Of course," she acknowledged sweetly.

Squall rubbed his face irritatedly. "Well, that's... that's great. Wonderful."

"Hey man," Zell said hitting his arm, "you just gonna leave us behind." He noticed the saddle and ropes on Squall's body. "Nice contraption. Really inventive there, Squall."

Squall looked at himself, then at Rinoa, then back at all of them. Angelo trotted over and sat by his pant leg. He saw Zell was expecting an answer. In fact, they all were. "The hell do you want me to say? I did what I had to do. There's no wasting time here."

"No there isn't," Edea said. "In fact, I believe we all left just in time. I think Dollet is getting hammered now as we speak."

"Our focus is on Esthar now," Squall said. "I... guess... I could use some help getting there."

"Isn't your back hurting?" Mila asked.

"Yea man," Zell pointed out, "it's a nice contraption, but I'm sure that walk on the bridge did a number on you."

"It's no problem, y'all. I can handle it."

"Of course," Quistis teased.

"So, is the princess still asleep?" Irvine smirked.

Squall gave him a look, but before he could respond, Selphie continued, "She might need a K-I-S-S from her prince to wake her up."

His eyes widened and he gave a death look, however she and the other girls giggled furiously at his flushed skin. Edea laughed herself, and the two guys rubbed his shoulders hard and walked across the gravelly earth.

"Anything else you all want to say?" Squall asked.

"Well, Squall," Quistis said, walking up to him, "if you don't mind, Mila here seems ripe enough to join us in our quest. Also, she didn't want Zell to leave her alone now that the Garden is out of commission for the time being. What with all the stuff going on with Galbadia and Deling, it's probably wise to take her along with us. She knows a lot of powerful support and offensive magic, too."

He looked at her, and she flashed him a pretty smile. "Fine, that's fine." He shook her hand, and she went to go look at the nighttime scenery with the guys and Selphie.

"_We're_ also Edea's escorts," Quistis said, "which means that we don't let her out of our sight. Hopefully, the Estharians won't decide to shoot her on sight when we arrive in their city."

"Hm, yeah. That wouldn't be good. Alright, that's a good plan. That's a good plan."

"You okay?"

"Fine, fine. Why you say that?"

"You're agitated. Very easy to tell."

"I just haven't had a cigarette nor a glass of alcohol in a few days."

Edea produced some gin from her totebag. "On the house, Master Squall."

Squall sighed happily, unscrewed the cap and drank the contents whole. "Mm. You're a lifesaver, Matron."

"Look who's talking."

Squall returned her the empty glass and burped approvingly. "Much grateful."

"Doc Odine may be able to tell us a lot of things, Squall. I value the protection and the well-being of us all. If Sorceress Ultimecia possesses me once more, the result will be more dangerous than you'll ever see in your lifetime. If it were feasibly possible, I would very much like to rid myself of these godawful powers. Odine may be able to save me and us from a terrible outcome."

"Then... it is imperative that we leave immediately."

Quistis giggled. "It seems you have already got the jump on that thought pattern, Squall."

"Always have. Always will."

"Damn!" the shout was distant, but it was Irvine's.

Angelo, Squall, Quistis and Edea looked in that direction and saw the other four running back to meet them. "There's nothing anywhere north or south for miles and miles!" Irvine said.

"Let's try going east!" Mila suggested.

"You said you couldn't see anything for miles?" Squall asked.

"Yeah, but there's a massive salt lake that's all dried out for the most part over east. I think there might be a path to be taken there," Irvine said.

"It _is_ nighttime for another three hours, though," Zell said. "You think we should wait til dawn."

"Hell no," Squall said, grabbing Rinoa and harnessing her back up. "It's now or never, especially if the Super Guard's doing their romp. We haven't got much time."

They all watched in awe as he hoisted the girl up onto his shoulders and tighten the straps up. "Ready?" he asked them.

They all nodded, Angelo took the lead, and they journeyed east. Across orangish-golden land. The earth sparkled with the type of minted jewels that normally were found in spice mines in Centra and Trabia. There weren't any signs of natural life, except for the earth, causing an almost uneasy feeling to settle among them. Even though it was dark outside, lit up only by the moon, the area was flat and nothing could be seen for miles north or south. The large expanse of water blackened-blue at this hour lay to the west. Out east, miles and miles stretched out in the distance of a massive dried-out salt bed with small mountain peaks encircling it.

As they approached it, the air temperature got colder but not frigid. An overwhelming salt smell covered them almost immediately, and they could feel it at the back of their throat. Their eyes began to water, and their nose became ticklish. It would be a long walk.

"Hello!" Selphie shouted. "I don't see a city out here! Isn't Esthar, like, a city of thirty million people?!"

"From what the accounts read out," Edea said.

"Looks like we're in for a long trip," Mila noted. "Especially if you're swimming in a pool filled with salt."

Zell put an arm around her and whispered in her ear. "You ready for this?"

She kissed his cheek. "Only if you are."

"Well, that's a hell yeah, then!"

"We're always by your side, Edea," Irvine assured, "nothing will change that."

"That is really good to hear," she replied. "Remember you all, always be alert in my presence. If I am me, then all is good in the world."

Squall checked his gunblade and found it loaded and ready to kick some ass. "Every damn day is good in my book."

"Well that's a first," Quistis joked.

Squall cracked his neck, held Rinoa's weight steady with arm, unsheathed the Punishment with the other, and addressed them all. "Let's rock and roll, people."

Irvine and Zell fist-pumped the air, the girls giggled at Squall's flushed cheeks, Edea smiled and Angelo barked and led the way into the salty caverns.

* * *

A long line of women and children handcuffed to a single winding cord snaked around the dank city streets in Dollet. Each of them were covered in soot, blood and tears that still streamed down their cheeks. Their clothes had been tathered by some of the more rambunctious members of the Guard, and several who were physically weak and suffering from illness had had their limbs chopped off from the cord and their bodies dumped to the side of the street. They were being led into the Civic Center, which was being rapidly transformed into a massive armaments manufacturing center. Stern officers of the Galbadian military were brandishing energy-laced whips from the small crystals that had been embedded in the Lunatic Pandora, and they indiscriminately flogged anybody that they felt was slacking off in bomb-making and tank-constructing.

The men had been sent down to the pier and the old sea wharf village. The damage from the drone attacks had once again destroyed Dollet's naval capacity and its ships. Under constant gunpoint, they were forced to rebuild their wares a second time in less than half a year. Some of them were felled for no good reason. Either gender that refused his or her task was flogged to an inch of their life and sent into the Duke's hollowed estate, where construction of the new D-District Prison No. 6 was well underway.

The war rehabiliation was moving at a phenomenal rate. Away from the dying city high on a canyon bluff, Seifer Almasy, Raijin and Fujin looked down at the work-in-progress as well as the sprawling encampments settled around the city where the Galbadian and Dolletian forced citizen-army were being closely monitored by Super Guard drones and junta generals. Seifer was looking at a hologram map of Fisherman's Horizon. The makeup of the layered city showed that an alarming amount of people were evacuating.

The night sky was turning into dawn, and the Sun's rays shown on a very bloody scene down in the sea port.

"ESCAPING," Fujin noticed.

"They are indeed," Seifer concurred.

"Are you... going to attack them?" Raijin asked.

"Dunno. Cid was always nice to me."

He switched the module over a few clicks and saw a scene on Centra much to his liking. Zooming in further, he let the other two see that the three-hundred storey monstrosity was fully excavated and levitating off the purplish earth. The screen could not fit it all the way in its scope, and its presence was magnifying.

"Ah, it's time, it's time," Seifer chortled with glee.

He closed the module and flipped it into his coat. "Leave your best generals here for a second uptick and follow me to Centra. We must board the Pandora and fly her over to the East at once."

"YESSIR."

"Yes, sir."

The two of them laughed and Seifer looked in an eastwardly direction where Squall Leonhart was more than likely heading towards. "Stay alive for a little while, Squallie. Your time is coming fast."

* * *

"The hell is this earth, eh?" Zell asked.

"Yes," Mila said, "it's rich and soft to the touch."

Quistis reached down and hooked a piece in a reader. Analyzing the data, she widened her eyes. "Great Eden. The sand is loaded in minerals. Gold, tungsten, phosphourous, and aluminum. The Estharians must be a very rich nation."

"Oh they most certainly are," Edea replied, stepping over to see the reader. "They have worked for many years to build their city into something monumental. Funny, though. They don't seem too enthusiastic to show it." She looked around as if to expecting to suddenly see it. A look of disappointment came over her face.

"Do you know why that is?" Irvine asked.

"I remember coming to Esthar about 25 years ago. It was pretty big then, about nine million people. After the Sorceress War, I heard they had a population explosion along with a technology explosion, since they started strip-mining in the northeast. From what I can recall, it was pretty easy to get into the city. This salt lake was actually a lake in those days. From the war and the subsequent drillings, the lake got dried out. As you can see..." She pointed with exuberance, and they all cried out at what she pointed to. "...the process has unearthed awesome relics from the past."

"Awesome is an understatement," Squall breathed.

A gigantic skeleton of a dinosaur was embedded in a cliff near them that dipped down farther into a vast salt plain. The Great Salt Lake was carved into rivulets of salty canyons and dry riverbeds. Ancient fossils of creatures that used to live here millions of years ago lay exposed to the sunlight. The salty conditions had preserved the thousands of ancient bones for long times; now, however, the recent decades had exposed them all, and the Sun was now slowly eroding the bones whole. In another two or three decades, none of them would be left.

Besides the sea-salt smell, Squall felt it was a peaceful place. It was really a walk in a distant time and place. Millions of years ago, life that he had never seen before walked the earth and inhabited a land that resembled Esthar but wasn't Esthar. A land that had been thoroughly recycled into the earth and now produced denizens like himself and his companions to walk the earth and create their stories. He felt that this story he was walking into was a majestic and heart-stopping tale, of which he was grateful to partake in for a little time.

The sky was calm overhead, and light from the Sun was starting to pour and disperse the blackness away. Within an hour, the first rays of dawn would be upon them. The sand was golden, but the darkness of the night heightened the color to an orangish glow. One could not get lost in this continent, for the pathway was lit up beautifully at night which made it incredibly to spot and be spotted by monsters if there were any out. Yet, the Great Salt Lake was a formidable, though beautiful, place and there was no activity of life to be found, except for the dessicating fossils. Maggots and other bugs small enough to be crushed under foot were infesting every nook and cranny, feeding off of the bountiful salt deposits.

The air was frigid when the winds whipped their way through the carved-up pathways, but the actual air temperature was not that bad. As they ventured farther down in the winding pathways, they were able to buy large amounts of time of still winds saving their skin from hypothermia. The month of November was slowly becoming December and showing it in droves across the northern expanses of the continents.

They continued walking for another half-hour gazing at the same craggy rock before finally the salty smell waffled them hard. Forced to stop, and tired as he was with her on his back, Squall signalled for them to halt for a few minutes and they all sat down on the ground. The dawn's lights were coming across the tops of the cliffs above them. A faint wisp of wind curled across the golden earth and stirred up a few rocks. Squall set Rinoa down next to him and pressed his back up against the wall, longing for another glass of gin. Angelo came to him and rested his head in Squall's lap, ergo Squall obliged and scratched his ears. There was so much to think about at this time, yet his mind just couldn't revolve away from Rinoa and the dog wasn't helping things at all. His presence reminded Squall of the pink-toned resistance fighter's warmth and ambience. It was getting unbearable not to hear her voice. However, he really wasn't sure what he was getting into. For one thing, he had absolutely no idea where this fucking city was. And secondly, who and where did he go to talk to and with? He had never even heard of this Doctor Odine putz before Edea called his name out. All he wanted to do was just find Ellone, who the White SeeD claimed had been taken by the naval ships. To where though? Where in this massive city, supposing he found it, could she be? The city was reportedly massive stretching roughly a hundred square miles and practically covering the whole of the continent.

He sighed and purposely smacked the back of his head against the cliff. He was thinking too much again. He had to stop doing that shit. He looked into Angelo's beady eyes. _Useless, I know. Can't ever stop thinking too much._ He continued to pet the dog's ears and changed his thought patterns to that of owning a dog. He had never owned an animal before, and if this little story continued to play out he would most assuredly be part owner of Mr. Angelo here. There would be no chance in hell that he could avoid it. The thought of owning the loyal mutt brought a fresh smile to the gunblader's face which Angelo recognized and buried his head deeper into Squall's lap.

"Well, blow me down."

Everybody turned their heads sharply towards Irvine.

"What day is it?"

"Psh, like _I_ know," Squall muttered.

"Same here, man," Zell said. "Who the hell cares what day it is?"

"Damn. I didn't know you two cared so much," Irvine said, a little depressed.

Nobody said anything in response.

Irvine slapped his forehead. "Come on, guys! What day is it, seriously?" He looked at Selphie, who shook her head. He looked at Mila, who shook her head sadly too. "Anyone? Come on guys, don't let me down here now."

"I think--"

"Good, good. Quistis knows everything."

The former instructor caressed her temples and closed her eyes. "I think... oh I wanna say it's like the 30th of November maybe. I think we're just about to head into December."

"Ha!" the cowboy laughed, clapping his hands. "I knew it!"

"Hm. Somebody seems happy," Edea chuckled.

"The hell's got you so excited, duster boy?" Zell sneered.

Irvine shook his head. "People, people. Have you all lost track of time? Especially _you_, Selphie!" He playfully smacked her shoulder.

"What?!?" she asked, perplexed.

"It was my birthday.. like a _week_ ago!"

Everybody widened their eyes. "Your... birthday?" Quistis asked.

"Nah-ah!" Selphie said, clinging to his arm.

"_Yes_-ah!" Irvine laughed. "I just turned 17 on November the 24th!"

Everybody was silent, contemplating that.

"Holy shit!" Zell cried. He pointed his finger at Irvine and laughed. "Loser. I'm older than you by eight months!!"

"Hey fuck you brawler. You didn't even know."

"Now I do, haha."

Irvine grunted.

"I'm older than you, I'm older than you."

"You mean, your birthday was really just a week ago?" Selphie asked.

"That's right. About the time we went to go see the White SeeD was when it happened. It done slipped my mind a bit."

"Damn," Squall said. "That's some interesting news."

"Well, thanks Squall. First compliment you've given me since we've known each other."

"By the way, sharpshooter, I'm older than you by exactly three months."

"What?!"

"You are?" Selphie, Zell, Mila, and Quistis asked.

"Yep. August 23rd. Fine, ripe old date in the last days of summer."

"Tch, lucky bastard," Irvine sulked.

"Ha!" Zell laughed. "I'm still older than _you_ even. Take that!"

Squall shrugged. "Yippe-kay-ah, motherfucker."

Zell laughed. "Squall's a sore loser, baby," he told Mila, who giggled at that.

"Well, Zell, when were _you_ born again?" Selphie asked.

"March 17th. I heard it's a holiday date, too, in some parts of the world."

"Dammit. You're older than me, too. Mine's July 16th." She giggled at Squall and Irvine. "Still beat you two, though. Sorry fellas."

Irvine grunted longer this time. _Why am _I _ the baby here? _ he thought to himself.

"Awfully quiet there Quistis," Edea noticed, a grin on her face.

"Yes," the former instructor replied. "My birthday is October the 4th. Just recently, too. I believe we were too busy being stuck in prison at the time for me to notice properly. Deary me, I can't believe I forgot about that."

"October? Hey, that means Selphie, Squall and myself are older than you, ha!" Zell laughed.

"Nah, not quite. My birthday's the year before you all." Quistis flashed him a sly smile, and the brawler frowned at that.

Mila tugged at his arm. "Uh me too, honey."

"What?" Zell asked, shocked.

"I was actually born on Squall's birthday in the same year as Quistis's."

All of them widened their eyes at that, and the pretty library girl smiled at their befuddled expressions.

"Wait, so I'm dating an 18-year old?"

"That's right, Zelly."

The brawler chuckled. "Ye--ah! I'm dating a cougar."

She hit him hard in the ribs, and the rest of them laughed and shook their heads.

"My, my. You all have great memories of that. Each of you is entirely correct," Edea said.

"What year is it, Matron?" Squall asked.

"Yeah," Selphie asked. "That was one thing I could never get down correctly. We spent too much time chalking down years in history but we never figured out what our _current_ year was."

"Well," Quistis said, "if you remember from history... I'd wager we are in the 3000s in the chronological time frame. But I can't remember which age of life we are in."

"My goodness, Quistis," Edea said, looking at her in wonderment. "Are you the brains of this group to Squall's brawn?"

"N-No, not really." The former instructor was really red.

"She's being bashful again," Irvine laughed. "Common trait, Matron, common trait."

"Always was," Edea said. "Why I remember when you were six or seven, Quisty, you had walked into Cid's library and fished out all the books relating to the history of the Trabian kingdoms. Went back at least five thousand years of history. I couldn't believe it. You had memorized every single king and queen who had ruled in that time frame from start to finish. Even the ones who were killed off in their acceptance speeches. Off the top of my head, I want to say that that was at least 200 of them. Most likely more than that!"

The redness was deepening. "It spanned two ages of life."

"Indeed it did. Well...let me think here for a second. It's been a while." Edea thought for a bit, her forehead showing signs of thoughts churning. "We....We are in the sixth age of Man and in the twelvth age of Life. Each age of Life spans 10,000 years, and each age of Man spans just 2000 years. This.... this is....this is the Year 3003 of the Twelvth Age of Life and the 1,989th year of the Sixth Age of Man."

Everybody was silent for a long time. The dawn's morning light had now swept fully in. It was about 6:30 in the morning.

"A..._Seventh_ Age of Man is coming?" Squall asked. For some reason, his throat seemed dry when he said it.

Edea looked at him seriously. "The future of Mankind is up to the hands of Eden to decide."

Squall leaned back again, dismayed. He didn't hardly care for that too much. "Are you sure of that?"

Edea read him for a few minutes and then noticed the others had the same looks. "You children are not believers in that realm, are you?"

"No, ma'am," Irvine said solemnly. "With all due respect, of course."

"Yes, with all due respect," Mila said. "I spent countless hours in the library on my off-times looking at all the philosohical books written by ministers and theorists in Fisherman's Horizon and Esthar who contemplated what Eden had said. I never really cared for it too much. It didn't seem to ring true to my ears. It was almost a fake sense of hope and justice."

"That's what many people say about it," Edea said. "I.. admit.. that I find it to be rather rash, too. Being a Sorceress, though, for a time being, I met the so-called 'other half of the coin' to Eden's being. They call it Hyne. The flowing power that encompasses all supernatural and otherworldly beings such as sorceresses."

"Hyne?" Quistis asked.

"Yes. Eden represents life on this earth, and I guess other earths. Hyne represents the force that propels the life of abnormalities on this earth. The two supposedly work in tandem in a ying-yang sort of way, with Eden supposedly the more dominant one. I think it's the other way around sometimes, though. I can surely support that conclusion."

"I concur," Squall said.

"Still... in just ten years and a month... a true test of mankind will erupt. What it'll be, no one knows of."

"What happened 2000 years ago?" Zell asked.

"A violent earthquake that shook up the great cities that housed this very continent that we are on now. Cities that even dwarfed the purported size of Esthar. In the west and in the north, the landmasses split apart by an underwater faultine and powerful tsunamis to form the continents as they are today. After five hundred years into the Sixth Age of Man, human civilizations crept down into what is now known as Galbadia and Deling and built their cities there. Before, it had been what is now Trabia that had been the most populated. Centra had always remained skeletal and forbidden. I think you would have to go back four ages when it was different, but I cannot recall at this moment. I am sure the libraries of Esthar would explain it all quite clearly... if ever we got there."

"So all that could happen again in just a decade?" Selphie asked.

"Could is the key word in that sentence, young one. Each timeframe was marked quite differently and filled with much different people. In ten years, there may not even be men on this earth anymore. Men could go extinct, be replaced with another creature. Maybe similar, maybe entirely different."

"How did man come about?" Mila asked.

"Same way I suppose. We probably replaced an extinct organism who bares some resemblance with the character and makeup of our systems."

"How do Sorceresses come about?" Zell asked.

"That... is where this whole thing gets twisted, Zell. That is where Hyne's presence takes hold. I cannot really explain it fully without showing you all visuals so you can understand. Odine I am sure will have them." She sniffed. "This blasted salt smell is really getting to me."

"Me too," everyone said.

"It's not so bad," said a disgusting, croaking voice.

Squall and Irvine were up in a flash, gunblade and shotgun brandished immediately. Zell stood up after them, fists clenched tight and his Meteor orb-laced gloves shining brilliantly against the golden sand. Mila and Selphie gripped their blunt weapons, and Quistis slowly moved over to Edea and held her hand. Angelo stayed by Rinoa and growled at something over to the east. The humans looked at his mutterings.

Nothing.

Squall cocked the chamber ready, and Irvine did the same. "Who's out there?"

"Just me."

"Who the fuck is me?"

"Now _that's_ a silly question that you ask of yourself!"

_That voice._ Squall knew he had heard that before. "Show yourself!"

"You've got five seconds to show before we kick your motherfucking ass!" Zell said excitedly.

"Hush, Zell," Irvine said.

"My goodness, my goodness," the croaking voice sputtered. "First cadets, then Seeds, now warriors. My, my, how times change."

Squall noticed a shadow approaching out of the gloom, and then the familiar sickly creature showed itself. "Ah, shit. You're that Golem creature from Ifrit's cavern and the Tomb of the Unknown King."

Zell, Irvine, Quistis, and Selphie shuddered and slowly dropped their weapons.

"Aww, you say it with such depression and loathing." The Golem had seen some hard times since they last saw him. His skin was ragged and torn, and his eyes were pale and melting in the sockets.

"So, really, what the fuck are you doing here?" Squall asked.

"I live here."

"I thought you lived in Ifrit's tomb."

"You bastards disturbed his home by unhooking the Garden!"

Squall looked at his friends with confusion. "How could _that_ disturb a Guardian Force who _has no earthly home_ here? He inhabits shrines!"

"Yes, yes. Of course, of course, human. But still, it was _my_ home, and you all made a lot of noise! So, naturally, I moved away and found someplace much more to my liking. I always had a secret pleasure of watching my eyes melt from all the salt seeping in them."

Squall couldn't tell if that was sarcasm or an actual truth. Either way, the visual was disgusting. "May we help you?"

"I am afraid I don't have any games for you to play today. Much too fed up with all that, with all the shenanigans that are going on in the world today."

"Well, _that's_ a relief," Zell said, crossing his arms.

"However, I couldn't help but noticing that you need to go to Esthar."

"How did you notice that?" Edea asked.

"Me ears are quite large, and they pick up lots of things. Lots of dumb stupid things like birthdays and mindless chatter from young people and all that shit. However, one constant thing among you all is to go and meet people in that wonderful and beautiful city known as Esthar. And drat it all, it's not quite easy to get to these days."

"Yes," Squall said looking around, "we can see that."

The Golem looked at him and laughed wickedly, almost falling down on his ass. "Oh you silly human, ha ha! For you, it must be exceptionally hard, ha ha. But for me! Nah. Not at all. I see it as plain as I can see the nose on your face."

Squall cocked his eyebrow. "What?"

"Silly human. Look. It's right over there." The Golem pointed off to the east.

When Squall and the others looked, they could see nothing but a limited view of miles and miles and charred land in the Great Salt Lake and flat golden-orange land of the Estharian continent.

"Where exactly?" Mila asked, annoyed.

"Uh yeah," Selphie said. "I don't see anything resembling a massive city."

The Golem slapped himself. "Aye, humans. Always debilitating freaks you are! Come. Follow me, I'll show you where it is."

"What?" Squall asked.

The Golem looked at him. "Follow me. You'll have to cross some rough terrain and some liquid to get to Esthar. Be mindful of your surroundings, too. Not all is what it seems to be."

"So, you're a guide?" Edea asked.

"I am a chauffer," the Golem said. "Besides, I doubt you all know the way back to the Horizon bridge."

The humans looked behind them and were dismayed to find that statement true. Squall looked at his companions who in turn looked at him. He sighed and grabbed Rinoa. "Looks like we have no choice."

The others frowned, nodded and waited for him to get settled. They followed the cackling Golem as the light began to penetrate deeper into the saltbed.

* * *

The source of the dreaded salt smell revealed itself to be a massive underground lake that was not visible from high up on the golden-orangish lands of Esthar. Indeed, from a birds-eye view, the Great Salt Lake had a landscape that tilted quite inward almost in a crater-like state and emptied into a brooding lagoon ripe in salt and brimming in warm heat. It was a veritable wasteland with no plant life and large salt clusters embedded in nooks of the whitish-blue cliffs rimming all around the churning lake.

The Golem cackled continously as it scampered heartilly down to the edge of the lake where a large boat lay. Whether it could hold eight people, a dog, and a Golem was beyond everybody's comprehension. All the humans covered their noses as best as they could, and Angelo sneezed incessantly and even watered at his eyes. A thing haze of salt fog was quite visible coasting the surface of the lake.

"This way," the creature giggled, "come, come."

The Golem hopped daintily into the boat and caught hold of the oar. Squall looked at his friends warily and felt his heart sink when they gave him the same look. He sighed and planned out his will while setting Rinoa carefully in first. Angelo hopped aboard and settled in next to her form, and then Squall helped Edea in. Irvine and Zell helped the other three girls and then got in themselves. Squall looked for a minute at the boat and saw much of it sinking further into the brink. Swallowing heavily, he slowly got in, and the Golem pushed off with an incredible thrust.

"See, see," it giggled, "no problem at all, hee hee."

The boat stayed afloat by some magical means. The Golem deftly stroked his oar in the thick, salty stew below them, and the crowded vessel slowly waded across the lake. The hazy fog covered much of the eastward path, and in time the westward shore they had left disappeared from view. Their surroundings on all sides slowly evaporated away, and the group became very uneasy.

"Um..." Squall started to say.

"What is it, Master Squall?" the Golem hissed with pleasure.

"Shit. You still remember my name?"

"Don't be silly, Commander Squall. Aye, humans. Your kind was always an abysmal wreck. Don't be so clueless all the time, you make life on this earth look bad." The Golem scratched the inside of his eye, pulled out a yellowish gob of goo and then bit into the gob crunching whatever it was into tiny giblets before spewing it out into the lake. "Squall Leonhart the leader, Zell Dincht the brawler, Irvine Kinneas the lady's man, Quistis Trepe the bookworm, Selphie Tilmitt the bubbly cheerleader, Rinoa Heartilly who's fallen terribly ill it seems, Milena Chabert the newbie on the team, Edea Kramer the former dreadful succubus, and Mr. Angelo the mutt. My, my wait til I tell my friends whom I have encountered."

Squall felt his gut go flat. "Your..... friends?"

"Oh. You want to meet them? They are terribly friendly."

"Uh, look Golem, we just need to get to Esthar."

"Oh, shit-a-ma-git. There's plenty of time for that. You haven't seen the sights of the lake yet."

"I don't think we want to," Selphie said.

"Oh, no. Don't say that," the Golem said sadly. "There's a lot of history here, dear one. Just brimming with ancient lore."

The girls stole a peek overboard and gasped. Mila and Selphie clinged to their guy's arms, and Quistis did the same to Squall. Their grip was quite tight. All three men tried to get them off, but when they looked overboard they stopped doing so.

Headless corpses passed them slowly by, followed by many severed heads with eye sockets gaping wide and maws twisted in agony. The salt preserved the bones, and all the skulls were pure white. The bodies had some flesh left, but that was slowly dissolving away and the rib cages and pelvises were as white as the skulls. There were many bones in the lake, and they repeatedly rammed into the boat as it passed.

"Oh my," Mila gasped. Selphie did the same. The guys were at a loss for words.

Edea sighed. "This... is a gathering place for the fallen."

"Mostly from the Sorceress War," the Golem explained. "Millions of people died in those thirty years, largely during the last five. Very fascinating time it was. Very fascinating. I made many a trip here to watch the slaughters."

"You have no contempt for the suffering?" Edea asked.

"Hell no! What kind of a silly question is that? Oh... wait.. I forgot you were a Sorceress against your will. Silly me, you were forced to commit acts that you didn't enjoy doing. How shameful."

Edea shook her head sadly.

"How much longer, Golem?" Squall asked.

The Golem made a guttural sound and did not answer, and no one felt compelled to pry further.

They continued for at least another hour in silence, and Squall began to grow a little tired and a little hungry. He heard the stomachs of the others rumble as well, and he felt only slightly relieved at that.

A terrible shriek suddenly pierced the air somewhere around them. Where exactly? Not one of them could tell. Their eyes darted everywhere, but the Golem kept silent and steady at the helm.

"Hey!" Irvine yelled at the creature, who looked at him in shock. "Did you not hear that?"

"It was fucking loud!" Zell said.

"Sounded like bones breaking," Quistis shuddered.

"Oh I heard it," the Golem said, nodding.

"Then... what is it?" Squall asked, darkly.

The Golem slowly turned his head back to the east and rowed a little faster. "One of my friends who wanted to say 'hi'."

"Ye---Yeah," Zell said queasily.

"That's.. uh.. great, Golem," Squall said, "but could you move a little faster please?"

The shriek occurred again, followed by a loud splash in the grimy lake. A large shadow moved in front of them in the mist, and the ripples cascading through the lake sent the skulls floating by careening against each other in a sickly sound.

The Golem laughed, or tried to (it sounded like nails on a chalkboard), and croaked, "It looks like he wants to meet you all, too."

The boat suddenly hit land and beached abruptly, knocking most of them out onto the gravelly sand. The sound of wings slashing against the air hit their ears, and the mist died down to reveal a horrid-looking creature. It stamped its three-toed feet roughly on the ground, stirring up gravel and rock like a bull ready to rush. It towered an immense thirty feet in the air and had two blackened horns the size of a full-grown man protruding out of its maw. A red mane, speckled with the dried blood and bits of human flesh, wavered in a knotty mess out the back of its mutated skull. Dark blue wings, wan and fragile, fluttered against the wind and made sharp cracking sounds against it. Its arms were bulbous and wide with absurdly large hands with small knives replacing fingers, each tarnished with dry blood. The thing looked like a gargantuan zombie stalwart, and it behaved with an equally voracious rage.

The eight humans had little time to react. The massive creature let out a roar that shook several salt clusters loose from the cliffs, and both of its arms crushed down towards the boat. Edea, Mila and Irvine jumped out just in time before the arms smashed the boat to pieces, while the other five scrambled away. Squall hauled Angelo to the side and told him to somehow watch over the unconscious Rinoa. He then managed to pull out his gunblade, but he was flung into the air by the creature's short stubby tail. Selphie and Quistis each stabbed the creature with their weapons. Quistis's bladed whip snapped into the creature's exposed rib cage and stuck. She somersaulted end over end onto the creature's back and rained down lightning magic into the bones and saggy flesh to little or no effect. Selphie spun crazily across the ground, whipping her nunchaku around in dazzling arcs and managing to crush and knock out several of the creature's exposed bones.

Edea had retained some of her magicka, and she sent strong firebolts and ice shards into the creature's stomach and skull when Quistis wasn't in the way. Zell tag-teamed with her to beat the creature's legs along with quick shotgun blasts from Irvine. The creature managed to kick Zell away with a sharp thrust to the brawler's stomach, but Mila was there to back up with a powerful flare spell that tore a whole gob of flesh off the hide followed by a whirling spin attack with her knife. An AM blast from the Punishment genuflected the creature and knocked Quistis off the creature's back. Her whip snapped out, and several ribs flew down to the ground.

The towering behemoth had many flowing wounds, yet it did not seem unwavered. Squall, Selphie and Irvine unloaded with shotgun blasts, nunchaku swipes and sword thrusts but the creature managed to beat them all away, even managing to open a bloody wound across Irvine's face. Quistis reached for a spell on her whip and fired it at the creature but gasped right after firing it. Instead of another bolt spell, she had accidentally charged off a cure spell. She cursed and stamped her foot on the ground, but the creature yelled out in pain and reeled back and knocked its skull in a low overhanging cliff.

"What the hell?" Zell asked.

"I...I hit it with a Cure spell," Quistis said.

"Hit it again!" Squall shouted.

The behemoth angrily snorted, charged Quistis with its head reared down and its horns protruded dangerously out. Squall cursed and hauled Quistis away from the thrust; only he got sliced apart in the back and he fell on the ground beside her. The creature roared, took to the air with it surprisingly powerful wings, circled once or twice in mid-air, and slammed back down to the ground. The shockwave sent Zell and Selphie airborne and into the salty lake. Irvine was drilled back into a salt wall, and a clump of salt got into his facial wound and burned like a motherfucker. Edea and Mila were flung back into Rinoa and Angelo, who gave a surprised bark.

The behemoth laughed wickedly, and the Golem who had hid in the salty waters laughed in his croaking way as well. Surveying the befuddled humans, the behemoth snorted and seemed to chortle as it slowly walked around the mess it created and tried to decide which one to off first. Squall was grunting and gingerly touching his back, and Quistis was dazed and confused, so the behemoth decided to attack them first. Irvine, despite his excoriating wound, found a true aim and sent a shotgun shell into the creature's face successfully tearing off a horn. The creature reeled back again, and Irvine fired another shell into the creature's ribs before his chamber ran dry. The creature stumbled again, snorted and charged the bloodied sharpshooter. Irvine gulped and waited for the impact, but Edea stood up and showered ice and fire magic across the creature's side. That stopped it, but it snorted even worse and kicked the kindly Matron across the face and sent her flying.

Milena grunted and got up. She twirled her scepter and found a Curaga spell laced around the rim of the hilt. The behemoth looked at her and let out a screeching yell that pierced her ears. She could see quite clearly every facet of the creature's gullet. Steeling her resolve, she let the magic glow in her eyes and sent the support spell straight into the behemoth's mouth. The spell coarsed through the bones and raggedy flesh at lightning speed and tore off the creature's wings and one of its arms. The haggard monster fell back hard but still remained standing. Steadying herself, and wishing not to do it, she pulled out a green vial from her pocket and flung it at the wobbling creature. The vial exploded on its chest, and a green soupy goo overflowed it and burned the monstrosity alive. A large puff of smoke escaped out of the red mane, and nothing but ashes fell down to the ground. The library girl took a sigh of relief and fell down to the ground, where Angelo rushed to soothe her.

"Holy shit!!" Zell said. His eyes were wide, and red from the salty sea but he hardly cared about that at the moment. He slowly walked out of the lake and looked at his girl, who was quickly breathing and receiving the medicine that Angelo had in his leash case. He walked over to her, and they both smiled at each other before he reached down to give her a kiss.

"And you call yourself a nervous girl," Selphie said, laughing.

"I must say," Edea said, coming to her side and dragging Irvine with her, "that was a brilliant maneuver by you."

"Thank you, Matron," Mila said breathlessly, "I didn't know I had it me."

"So modest. You held your ground at a dangerous time. That's first-rate SeeD training."

"Hell yeah!" Zell shouted. "What was that vial you used?"

"An X-Potion. I don't know why they call it 'X', but it seemed to be pretty powerful." Mila was blushing as she said it, and he hugged her long and hard.

"Irvy, Squally," Selphie cooed, "are you two alright."

"Squall's okay," Quistis said, dragging him over. The gunblader seemed a little agitated. "He seems used to being the rescuer of maidens in trouble."

Selphie laughed and then grew a serious frown at Irvine's face. The cowboy was slowly wiping his cut that ran across his forehead. A mountain of sand, or what seemed like it, was slowly falling out of it, and he was wincing badly. "Baby, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Selphie. Bastard got me good, though-- Ow! Angelo." The dog's tail had accidentally whacked him in the face, and the mutt gave an embarrassed whimper.

"Where the fuck is that piece of shit?!" Squall suddenly cursed, making them all jump. He had taken off his leather jacket, that now had a massive hole in the back of it, and he was stitching his back up as best as he could. Quistis and Edea were helping him. "Where is he?"

"Quiet, Squall," Edea said, "you're making your wound open up more."

"Some friend of his, eh?" Zell asked.

"Of course, gentle humans," the crackly voice picked up, scaring them all again.

The Golem looked at them all from high up on a cliff bluff. How he got there, they didn't know, but they were about ready to tear him to pieces. That was probably why he was high up there.

"You cocksucking piece of shit!!" Zell cursed.

"For once, I agree with Zell's language," Quistis said, her face frowning as if she had eaten a ripe lemon.

"Oh, no no. You humans keep killing off all my friends."

"Well, your _friends_ keep trying to kill _us_," Squall seethed.

"Oh... they're just being... friendly." The Golem giggled like a little schoolgirl.

"That's it!!" Irvine yelled getting up.

"Yeah, I'm with you!" Zell shouted, getting up as well.

"Boys! Sit down," Selphie said.

"Yes," Squall agreed, and the others looked at him surprised. "Just tell us, once and for all, how to get to Esthar. No more fucking tricks."

The Golem slapped his forehead and slowly shook his head.

"Look, creature. It may be easy for you, because you know things and see things that _we_ cannot know or see. None of us are as attuned to the worldly being as you and your friends are. Now, we would like to know. Maybe we could interact a little better and be more trusting of each other if we did. Ever think of that?"

The Golem scratched his chin. "Well, now. That's the answer I have been wanting to hear all this time." He steadied himself and hopped down to their level to their surprise. "Can you stand, Master Squall?"

"A little. Why?"

"Do so."

Squall did as he was told, and the Golem lead him a few feet further up the incline. "Now. Look over there." The creature pointed to the east, over a broad expanse of much of the same terrain as Squall had seen previously for the past three or four hours. "Do you see that?"

Squall looked for at least a minute all around. "See what?"

"The Great Salt Lake has many things inside it. Many...openings and exits. Remember what I told you earlier? Not all is what it seems?"

"What are you---" He stopped short.

A whiplash of light had blazed across the expanse, and it startled him.

"The hell was that?"

"What?" came the voice of Zell, and the brawler was right beside him dukes up and a wild look in his eye.

Selphie and Quistis came up as well. Angelo even came to sniff it out.

Nothing further showed itself, except for the miles and miles of white and golden land. And a shitload of disturbed rocks.

"I...saw a flash of light there," Squall said defeatedly, pointing his hand out east. "It was so sudden."

"Squall, there's nothing there," Quistis said.

"Oh really?" the Golem said laughing.

"Dear creature," Edea said as patiently as she could, "we really, really do not need these--"

A sound of static electricity snapped across the air, followed by another flash of light. Irvine was wiping away mucus that built up around his cut that was fast healing from Mila's magic. He, however, dropped his damp rag in mid-motion and gasped, "Is... Is there a .. forcefield up there?"

More static sounded off and what looked like visible radio waves started spiralling within the air. There was some type of a forcefield, a very powerful one. They felt their bodies pushed back slightly by an intense beam of energy followed by a warm heat that tingled their fingerips. The Golem was still laughing and chortling something in a different language, as stronger and stronger beams of light started revealing shapes that looked like skyscrapers, residential neighborhoods, temples and superhighways. There was a sharp addition of color that periodically sprang up against clouds and across rocks before disappearing again.

"Holy...shit," Squall said. The others followed his words, every single one of them.

"Gentle warriors, behold just one percent of the glorious city of Esthar. Hidden all this time, until now. The beams of light are only strong like this, because they know you are standing right here."

"Who?" Squall asked.

"The President's aides. They know exactly who you are, too, ha ha."

All of them looked uncomfortably at the Golem, until a suction-like sound alerted their gaze. High up in the sky above a solid plateau several yards in front of them, a dark hole appeared isolated in the middle of the sea-blue sky.

"What the?" Zell said. Mila and Edea were shocked for words, and Angelo couldn't bark.

"How can there be a hole in mid-air?" Quistis asked, unable to take her eyes off it.

"Goodness me," the Golem giggled, "walk up and see."

"What?" she asked.

"Don't mind the clamminess now, hee hee."

"The fuck?" Zell asked.

Squall looked at the Golem, thought he understood, and then walked towards the hole.

"Squall!" Zell shouted.

The gunblader walked across the plateau slowly and kept an eye on the hole. He extended his right foot out to test and was slightly surprised to bump into something. It was invisible to the naked eye, but his hand slowly crept around the slimy rung of a ladder. He pulled his palm back and was shocked to see traces of green puke across his digits.

"Been a long time since they've cleaned it," the Golem giggled.

"What is it?" Irvine asked.

"A ladder that leads up to one of the seventy hangar bays for airships," the Golem explained.

"Airships?" Selphie asked, highly intrigued.

"They still have them?" Edea asked.

"Shit-a-ma-git!! Go up and see for yourselves! Goodness me, I'll never understand the logic of humans."

"It is a ladder, y'all," Squall said. "Bring Rinoa to me."

Zell and Mila hauled her up along with the brace, and he saddled her up on his back, breathed one long sigh and slowly made his way up the ladder, cautiously judging where to place each step.

"I've got the mutt!" Irvine said.

"I'll back you up, just in case he falls," Zell said.

"Will you be okay?" Selphie asked Irvine.

"No sweat, sweetheart. Angelo's not that heavy."

Angelo only gave a bark that sounded like a child's laugh.

All eyes were on Squall first, though, to see if he could make it up there. They were quite surprised at the strength he possessed with carrying maybe 105 pounds on his back plus all his magicka orbs, health potions and his sword while climbing up an invisible ladder. He made it to halfway when Irvine and Zell started. Edea went next and then the other three girls. The Golem watched them leave and laughed cruelly at a couple of their missteps on the rung.

"You humans are really silly," he giggled before slipping back into the grimy salt lake.

* * *

Seifer smoke a cigarette nonchalantly, gazing listlessly at the empty sea town. The Horizon had never looked this empty before, and it was quite haunting. None of the ports were active, and the ships were all gone. None of the windmills were turning, and the houses were all dark and cold. None of the shops were open for business, and there was no sign of life. Hundreds of Super Guard troops patrolled both sides of the bridge and stormed through the streets conducting raids on all the properties within the city limits. Dozens of warships held guns at the ready all around the city. The Garden was gone, the Mayor was gone, and Squall and his wartime friends were gone.

That made Seifer mad, and he cracked his knuckles out of their joints before forcing them back in again. A leuitenant of his came up to him timidly and told him no one was in the city. He took the young man's head in one hand and snapped his neck and tossed the body into the sea.

Everybody looked at him, and he wheeled around. "Get the Pandora skyborne. We're heading to Esthar!!"

A reluctant cheering sounded, and the vast majority of soldiers left to hurry to their transports.

The hidden transponder that had stowed itself away in the dilapidated casket of a windmill recorded the whole exchange and reported it stealthily to Cid Kramer hiding in a bunker on Alcauld Island. The Headmaster saw the troops at Fisherman's Horizon and prayed that the Guard wouldn't fire on the city. He was sadly disturbed when several of the ships blew up the Mayor's House, all the temples and much of the residential neighborhood in Outer FH.

* * *

The acoustics were a major problem in the narrow hallway, and their footsteps made unbelievable noises that no one could ignore. When Quistis was the last to enter safely into the hallway, the large hole shut completely with a sickening close scaring her and the others. The Great Salt Lake and the entire world was shut off from view.

A thin strip of light panelling went from the gateway hole down into the abyss of this monster that they were in. Each of them looked at each other and then finally to Squall. Angelo walked up to him and looked ready to lead the way.

"They know we're here," he said. He saw the others shift their weight a bit. "They seem to have vast and superior technology far beyond anything on this planet. How... I am not so sure, but we've come this far. There is no other way in."

"Right you are," Irvine said, scratching the back of his neck. "Let's be on our way!"

"Follow me," Squall said, and they obeyed.

The pathway snaked downward and gradually opened up, with the light expanding to fill the whole room. Hundreds of derelict aircraft sat on platforms below them and suspended in the air by strong metal hooks. Sounds of a bad air filter rummaged away somewhere above them, and the air was filled with dust. They stared in awe at the array of aircraft and suddenly felt that if the Estharians made war with any nation on the earth, no one stood a chance. And this was just one of seventy hangars!

The hallway platform they were on ended at a door that automatically opened within five feet of Squall's presence. Each of them felt hundreds of eyes on them at all angles, yet they couldn't see any surveillance system. It was a very weird feeling. The door gave them a new area that was octagonal in shape and very claustrophobic and dark. When all of them were in, the door shut and plunged them in total darkness. Selphie and Mila gasped a bit, and Angelo barked up a frenzy. Lights slowly turned one at a time followed by a whole host of strange noises and suddenly they were being lifted up in a massive elevator. Along the way, small windows revealed the city itself teeming with people, cars and airships and more buildings than they could tell that inhabited the entire world. They just stared in complete awe and could not find any words to express it.

When words could come, they were immediately drowned. A piercing sound cracked in their ears, and Squall, Zell, Irvine, Selphie and Quistis saw a great white light and fell down to the floor.

"Ah!" Mila cried. "What's going on?!?"

Edea reeled back herself but managed to hold on. She held her temples taut and fought to keep from retching. After breathing a few times, she held Mila close to her and said in a soothing voice. "It's okay, it's okay. They are having a flashback."

"Of what?"

"Some things that need to be seen."


	30. The Revolution

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay. There is really no good excuse... but not to disappoint, this chapter expands the last Laguna intermission scene. Squall may be a badass, but Laguna doesn't shy away either. We're making it all to the way end here, people. Peptuck can't have all the fun now, lol.

Almost 450,000 words? Too damn short if you ask me. On with the show. ACJ

_An enslaved city_

_Ruled by conniving monsters_

_And a succubus_

The sand is a rich and pasty texture. Nitrogen makes up the bulk of the rind, but minerals akin to mercury, phosphate, tungsten, tin, copper, zinc, gold and silver thrive fruitfully within its mixture. Yet untapped, as preposterous as that sounds, a whole bastion of economic opportunity stood ready to be plucked.

However, the lands and mighty plains of Esthar were thwarted of its pride by ravaging monsters. Ten foot tall green plant creatures with maws bloodied and rotting of slain animals and wayward humans trolled the plains. The humans called them Malboros, but the creatures were mute and only communicated through their mountains of tentacle hairs growing out of their backs-- a semi-sexual maneuver although their reproductive methods were asexual in nature. The Malboros hunted in packs and released poison clouds from their nostrils that caused a steadily strickening poison to envelop a creature's nervous system. Within ten minutes the victim was dead and thereafter eaten disgustingly by the pack of monsters, leaving virtually nothing left except a pool of blood.

In direct competition, something called a Chimera hunted against the plant creatures as well. A massive three-bodied monster with the head of a lion, the body of bear and the limbs of a tiger. It was quick, it was agile, and it was sometimes very stupid. It could let a prey get away because of a simple distraction as the wind rolling some pebbles across the sand. When the creature was aware of its surroundings, however, nothing escaped the tiger claws and the lion snap of jaws tightening. It normally preyed solo and up in the northern mountain ranges, but it would have a tendency of being loyal to the Sorceress and her immediate Knightly brood.

A third creature preyed on everything, humans and monsters, except the Sorceress-- although on several occasions it foolishly tried to do just that. Ravenous Imps patrolled in massive packs and swarmed anything that moved across the Estharian plains, ravaging a hide dry of flesh in a span of three minutes. They were easy to kill individually, but as a whole it was damn near impossible. The reproductive rate was tremendous-- the Imps had a short lifespan that consisted of eating and fucking over and over and over. Their brains were smaller than peanuts, and their appetites were bigger than the tallest buildings of the world.

Those monsters roamed the plains. The city of Esthar, comprised of eight and a half million people and three million more in the suburbs, were ravaged by even deadlier and more insecure beings. The humans were all slaves, except a few highly selected choices that served as interpreters for the Sorceress's pets. They lived in the rich suburb of Atalanta and lived a semi-decent life making money off the human slave trade. The vast majority of humans, roughly eighty percent, lived in the squalid and filthy inner city ghettos and crumbling suburbs and worked to their deaths alongside the ill-treated Moombas that had an even shorter lifespan than the Imps. The rest of the humans served in the Estharian military, gaining the priviledge after taking a loyalty oath to the Sorceress. Of course, that was a feat no one liked to do, but some Estharian citizens were quite petrified of working to their deaths-- even though serving in Adel's army meant certain death as well.

Iron Giants patrolled the streets of Esthar and killed any human who didn't do their menial slave labor as they were supposed to. These brutes were fifteen meters tall and four meters wide, and somehow they found enough agility to run for quite a long distance. Their bodies were entirely made of iron, hence their name, and bullets could not pierce them. Swords had little effect. A tiny weak spot was their eyes, which were soft and squishy and immediately connected to their vulnerable brains. If someone could manage to hit them square in the eye, it would be an instant kill shot. Of course... they were fifteen meters high.

Those Giants protected the Sorceress, although they were not her Knights. The Knights were secretive druid-like bastards. Ten in all. Reclusive, sedative and deadly dangerous, their only weapon was a curved sickle easily concealable in their cloaks. They had lithe bodies and beady little eyes, and their main duty was to pleasure their Lady and attempt to breed future Sorceresses for an extensive length of service on this planet. However, Adel had numerous complications in several births resulting in severely deformed offspring unfit for continuation of the succubus legion. Believe it or not, but Sorceresses do eventually die-- it just takes a damn fucking long time. Since the births ended in vain, the search for live human girls was an essential part of the Knight's jobs. Unfortunately, the Estharian military always screwed it up. Since Adel ascended, at least fifty girls had died in the hands of the brass, and only eight had survived long enough to be seen by the succubus for inspection. Of the eight, seven died in captivity. One remained to be tested, however Adel was confused by this little girl-- she seemed to have a very distinct power, and Adel was quite curious as to what it could possibly be. This little girl, a specimen kidnapped from Winhill, was now being observed by a crazy doctor in the heart of the city.

As to Adel herself... she sat in a lavished castle much like her mentor Ultimecia lived in. A quaint fifty-room monstrosity with many guardians and bestial fauna residing in it. Human slaves kept on her night and day, and she lived as peacefully as she liked with an occasional execution here and there. She knew all about the rest of the world from plentiful newspaper reading, but she need not trifle herself further. No one would dare challenge her to warfare, not after her latest realm of terror. The Lunatic Pandora had virtually decimated several Galbadian strongholds and had an annihilated an entire munacipality loyal to the Estharians. She had personally granted the authority to have it buried over in Centra, but she knew it could be easily dug back up again. At the moment, no one was going to rise up and defeat her. No one was that fucking foolish.

So, in her all bestial glory, she relaxed and breathed deeply and contently. She was a monster in sight, but like all Sorceresses she maintained a secret beauty in her figure. Years ago, she was a splendid woman with an hourglass figure and deep green eyes. Her skin was fair, and her hair was a thick brown coming to down to the middle of her back. Her legs were shapely, and her lips were full. After the accident and infection, her skin had turned purple but the figure still remained. The eyes would grow more green in her ire and envy, and her face would distort in a nightmarish gleam, but still she could distract men quite easily. It was her charm, and she had bested several thousand in the process. No one could best her.

She waited for one, though. Oh she waited for one.

* * *

In the northwestern part of town, a salt mine was being excavated and the work hours were brutal. A seven-story building packed with labor stood like an eyesore among giant cylindrical pistons pumping up salt from deep within the bed of sand at an alarming rate. Steam power pumped the minerals out of the land and trolley belts delivered the good to the purifier machines to make drugs and medicine for the richer lands in Atalanta. The top floors held the R&D units and the higher-paid workers and scientists. The lower floors held the higher death rates. A basement held the racial and ethnic groups that were treated the worst. Centrans and Trabians received the bulk of Adel's torture, while captured Galbadians and Delingers were given somewhat better treatement. Hence on the fourth and third floors, the western continent peoples worked to their deaths.

It was here on the fourth floor that Laguna Loire suddenly awoke in his dazed and stupefied position. "Wha?" he cried out. The distinct sound of the faeries once again confounded his mind, and at this point in his life he wished they would just go away.

The sound of approaching feet came almost immediately. "The fuck are you speaking for?" A boot from his left came and jacked up his stomach. "Get the fuck back to work, you slimy pig-head shit."

The Estharian spat on the back of his neck and then walked away, greedily looking at the other workers toil away at pumping up the salt. The former soldier slowly wiped his neck and took hold of his machines again. He had forgotten how long he had been working at these pumps, doing the same work over and over for days on end. He wagered about a month, but it was more than likely longer. He had to work a console with a reader and two levers. The reader determined the angle and velocity of the salt crystals heating and cooling in the large vats below. One lever placed the heated tubes underneath the boiler vats, and the other lever propelled the conveyor belt around the room within the worker's region. Laguna and his enslaved colleagues had to make sure the salt got from the ground into the tube and then into the purification processor-- for about sixteen hours a day. A blaring horn signalled a thirty minute meal break of wasted gruel and some mystery meat. Absolutely no talking was the main rule of the institution.

Laguna sighed sadly and spent the next hour not thinking about anything except manipulating the salt. Never in his whole life would he have dreamed of not imagining a single thought whatsoever besides the brain-dead silence of laborious work. How could that be even possible? he had wondered often. It seemed that even the impossible was possible in times like these. Ever so slightly, he attempted darting looks around him to gauge his surroundings. There were always a dozen Estharians patrolling slowly around the platform, as well as two snipers on opposite ends of the room. There were thirty human slaves, including himself, on this particular floor, as well as one Moomba who was constantly being harassed and damn near killed twice on this particular day. There were two exits that led to elevators: one to go up and the other down, and both were heavily guarded.

There was nowhere to run to, except into the barrel of a gun or the cut of a blade.

When they weren't near, Laguna was able to lapse into brief thought, and he was slowly able to piece together the causes of this mess and the weird majestic beauty of the continent itself. The three of them had so been awed by the bright orange soil, so rich in nutrients and minerals, that they had not noticed the Estharians manually splitting them up. As such, they had gotten separated from each other, and they didn't even know it! The former soldier had no idea if they were even alive.

That thought unnerved him, and he almost got caught slacking on his job. One of the snipers noticed a particular section of conveyor belt not moving so quickly, and a red dot formed instantly on Laguna's chest. It stayed there for several minutes, until the sentry was satisfied again with Laguna's pace.

Work continued again for another hour. Laguna and the slaves had no idea what time it was outside. There were no windows and hardly any draft at all in the building. For all anybody knew, it was midnight outside and cool as a Trabian winter. The Estharians themselves had not a clue, but they cared even less. Laguna only knew one thing: his stomach was aching.

As if to answer his wishes, the horn blared loudly, and the conveyor belts were manually shut off. Obediently, Laguna and the others immediately sat back and waited. Down from the upper elevator came out a beastly-looking Estharian with a bullish voice. "Chow time, ladies." No ladies existed here, but... the standard derogatory calls did. "However, Higgins, Haydyn, Dobe, West, Clarke, and Loire. No chow for you. Too much talkin and slackin! The rest of you.. get yer mangy fucking asses out of my sight. Anybody talkin in the chow hall gets his fucking throat slit!!"

The slaves stood up and filed out quickly leaving the other six remaining behind with glum expressions.

"You six turdshits. Clean up this fucking platform. Any scraps will be thrown at ya later, ha."

The Moomba followed the men to the elevator, but the bullish Estharian kicked the reddie in the face and sent it flying down the platform. "You stay, too, you little fuckbag. You broke a railing jimmying that crate up here. You know how much that'll cost us. Stupid fucking redshit."

The Moomba looked ready to shed tears, but it humbly went back to trying to fix the problem.

Laguna croaked, and against his best wishes, spoke, "W-Wait a second here. I don't care about my stand so much against this little guy's. In a few more hours, I'll be done here, but his job won't get done for days. He has it much worse than all of us."

His five colleagues looked at him like he was next, however they were suddenly stunned. Laguna had an impeccable expression on his face, and the Estharians were caught off guard as well. The Moomba was looking at him admirably.

The bullish head honcho cleared his throat. "The fuck you got a jaw for prick? You want to do his job, eh?"

"None of us, including him, should be doing this job, but that's not the point. He'll die if he doesn't get any food."

"Fuck the bastard. If he can't get his job done in three or four days, then he won't _eat_ in three or four days!!"

"Now that's just--"

"Shut that fucker up!!" The bullish man yelled thrusting his finger dramatically at Laguna.

Six Estharians swarmed Laguna and beat him furiously with stun batons. He knew he would go without food tonight, but that was not on his minds. Currently, a bit of pain was flowing through his spine, but he kept his sight on the Moomba. He had very quickly found a friend with the reddie; the scent of previous interactions with them had already sealed the deal.

* * *

Hours later, when the closing bell sounded, Laguna and the other five colleagues were again recalled from leaving the premises-- this time just for spite. They were thrown scraps from earlier meat that had gone bone-dry cold, but they ate them regardless. The Moomba looked ill, but he continued to work. Only two Estharians with heavy firepower remained to keep watch, and Laguna and his worker pals were forced to clean the machines for the shift, leaving only three hours of rest afterwards until the next shift started.

They cleaned for an hour, until a loud sound crashed down below them.

"What the fuck was that shit?!!" one of the Estharians said.

The slaves looked around, but the other sentry's gun went pointed on them. "Don't look around. Get the fuck back to work!!"

They did as they were told, and the first sentry radioed in.

"_Echo Green, is that you?_"

"Yeah, Delta Red. The fuck's going on down there?"

"_Angry worker, Echo Green. Causing a bit of a ruckus._"

"The fat one?"

"_'Fraid so._"

The sentry clicked off the mic. "Sonofabitch. Hey.." he shouted to his friend. "Come give me a hand will ya?"

"You shitting me?"

"You know who the fat one is, right?"

"Yeah, I know who the fucking fat one is, you goddamn sonofabitch."

"Well, don't jack me off unless you're gonna swallow, motherfucker. Come give me a hand here."

"Uh...." the second sentry said, pointing to the seven slaves.

"The camera's on them. If they do something, we shoot them. Plain as fucking simple, no?"

The second sentry giggled and followed his colleague. He stopped at Laguna briefly. "Watch your ass, motherfucker."

Laguna nodded, and the sentry left down the elevator. For a time, he continued working along with the others, but eventually he decided to take a chance. He dropped his mop and cracked his back, worried at the sound of too many bones snapping. The other five looked at him, but the Moomba was too wrapped up in his work. Laguna walked over to the reddie and watched him. The creature was on a pulley machine suspended high above the distant floor, bravely washing the side of the platform's railing. The others were watching intently.

"Hey, fella."

The Moomba jumped in his skin and looked at Laguna, a little frightful at first. However, the man's eyes were full of concern again, and the little reddie calmed down immediately.

"You okay?" Laguna asked. "You look exhausted."

The Moomba went back to work, but he kept one ear trained on every word the former soldier was asking.

"I don't think they feed you properly at all, let alone the rest of us. I don't really care about me so much, but I can see everyone of yer ribs."

The Moomba nodded slightly and seemed to tear up a bit at the corner of his eye.

Laguna inspected the reddie's pulley machine. "Doesn't look steady at all. Hope you're not afraid of heights." He took a look over the platform and felt the same queasy feeling he had had back at the Centran Ruins. "Nasty fall."

The Moomba stopped again. "Grr...Grr..." he uttered. His eyes were very big.

"Your stomach's going 'grr'? Must be really hungry."

A warm chuckle sounded behind him, and Laguna looked back to see the slave named Higgins slowly walk forward. The other four had big smiles on their faces. "I think the Moomba is trying to say 'Thank you'."

Laguna turned back to the reddie, whose eyes were growing wider, and he smiled. "Ah. Well, you're welcome."

"You know something," Higgins said, "you're the first one to care about his well-being. Apart from us Trabians, nobody on this earth seems to give a damn about these forest animals. Everybody else just captures these Moombas and work them to death like they're dogs or something. They only get half the food and sleep compared to us humans."

"What?!!" Laguna asked Higgins in disbelief. He stared at the other four who nodded their heads sadly. Laguna contemplated that for a long time, before slowly turning back to the Moomba who had returned back to his work. Ever keen on the human's conversation, he was now softly crying a bit as he painstakingly rubbed a greasy spot on a jutting pipe. The damn pipes had to be white as ivory or else he would not get fed.

"That's horrible," Laguna said seriously, and his face was pained. "You need to get outta here," he told the Moomba, who gave a short squeak.

Laguna nodded. "When we get outta here, and we will sometime, I'll feed you all the food you want. And you'll get to nap whenever and wherever you want! How's that sound?!!"

He could tell his five slave companions were shocked, because they all uttered short gasps and one dropped a mop. The Moomba stopped crying and looked shocked as well. He stopped rubbing the grease spot for a second to offer another 'Thank you' and then returned back to work.

"Yeah... that sounds good," Laguna said, more to himself than anyone else.

A whirring sound alerted all of them. The surveillance cameras were running around them, but something was else, too. There were large opaque tubes stretching from end to end of the large room, and a spiralling gel-like liquid was running through them. It took Laguna a while to figure out that it was nuclear fusion, the kind of energy powering the sweatshop facility they were in. Parts of Adel's aura contained extractable nuclear fission that was able to run the majority of the city. A handy technique that only worked if she let the elites utilize it.

Activity all around them signalled that Doctor Odine was doing something crazy up on the top floor-- which incidentally was the ground level for the entire city. The sweatshop salt mine was eight stories buried underground, and each descending level was more horrific than the above. Odine sat comfortably in his office most days and enjoyed his thick ostensible accent while being master overseer of the facility and Adel's loyal lapdog and PR spokesman. He was sixty years old and looked older, but being a Centran he was only about middle-aged. He had virtually no competence of social skills but a bevy of mathematical and scientific knowledge. He also had absolutely no care about what his slaves were doing, and in fact he didn't even know how many he had. Sometimes, his little experiments he worked on ended up killing some of his slaves on the lower floors when conveyor belts whipped up uncontrollably and decapitated people left and right. That happened twice on Laguna's floor, and the former soldier had come within inches of losing his.

The surveillance cameras stopped moving, and the other five men continued scrubbing the floors. The Estharians had not returned, and this was giving them mighty curious thoughts. Intermittently, through the silences and above the dins of their scrubbing tools, they heard distant shouts below them as well as strange mechanical noises tinkering away.

Laguna had yet to reclaim his mop. He just stood still in one spot thinking with one hand under his chin and the other under that. He was alerted when the Moomba squeaked loudly. He looked and saw the poor reddie with a frightened look on his furry face.

"What's wrong, fella?"

The Moomba searched desperately, and Laguna saw that he had misplaced his brush. The poor reddie was about to have a heart attack.

"Hey, no worries pal. I've got a spare."

The reddie looked at him, awed and watched as Laguna went to his duffle bag. The bag was on a shelf next to the ascending elevator, marked in his own little cubbyhole that had to be properly straightened or else he would receive a lashing. Laguna had remembered the three previous scars that stretched across his lower back and always double-checked at the end of a shift if everything was in the right order. He unzipped the bag and found a good clean brush. He didn't mind getting a fourth scar; he hated to see this poor Moomba get treated badly over something as stupid as that.

"Hey!!"

The shout scared him, and he froze instantly.

"Yeah, you, the little shit standing by the elevator!!"

Laguna slowly turned around with the brush in his hand. One of the Estharians was looking at him, with his helmet off-- a rare sight. Laguna had to pause for a second, for he had never seen an Estharian without his helmet on. Apparently their skin was blue. Were they even human?

The Estharian looked a little uneasy. "Go get a guard upstairs. Some little fuck has jammed the intercom system, and another one has gone a fucking rampage!! I know you dunderheads don't know dick about dick, but don't make me have to tell you again. Understand?!!"

"Understand, sir. Roger that."

"Don't me roger me nothing, shitbag. I don't like that Galbadian shit! Get yer ass moving now!!" He left uttering out more curse words and looking even more perplexed.

_Hmm...are they... up to something?_ It had been a while since he had seen his two old buddies. Eden knew it was them, Laguna was sure of it. "Get a guard?" he thought to himself. "That wouldn't be right."

If he didn't, he would probably be executed and thrown into a salt vat. Laguna sighed sadly and then angrily. He had just about had enough of this crap. The Moomba was looking at him still, as were the others.

"Alright, I'm going, I'm going," he muttered, turning to the elevator. Then he kicked himself and turned back to the Moomba. "Almost forgot, heh, here... catch!"

Laguna tossed the brush, but the Moomba wasn't ready. He reached out too late, lost his balance, and fell over the edge.

"Oh sh---!" Laguna shouted, wide-eyed. He didn't notice the others chuckle slightly, he only just ran to the railing. The Moomba was nowhere in sight. "Oh no!!" He stared down at the black abyss below, knowing somewhere there was a bottom. Somewhere.... a splattered....orange creature lay. He felt a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he slowly and painfully fell on his ass. "Oh my god, please forgive me, little Moomba. Dammit!!" He smacked the platform. "Laguna, you idiot!! Why did you do that? Why did you do that? Of all the things--!!"

A squeak scared him, and he jumped to his feet and turned around.

The Moomba squeaked and chirped again, with a silly expression in his eyes. A small cord that Laguna had not seen before was wrapped around his waist. The Moomba chirped again and hugged Laguna's leg.

"Wha---How?"

"No need to worry, Mr. Laguna," one of the other slaves said, smiling big. The others were trying hard not to giggle at Laguna's dumbfounded expression. "You're not seeing ghosts. The Estharians might treat these guys badly, but they still put twister cables around them, so they don't perish so easily."

Laguna stared wide-eyed. "Well... thanks for not telling me that sooner."

"Oh hoh. We needed a good laugh. Been... a long while." The others nodded. "Laguna... what's your last name? I have a feeling I heard that name before."

"Laguna Loire, sir. Pleasure to meet you." Laguna shook the man's hand.

"Loire! That's it! From Ithius. Excellent work there, sir. My name's Thomas Haydyn. I'm -- er-- I _was_ a city councilman from there, until about a year ago when I lost my way around Ghast. The Estharian impressment party came and put me in these here salt mines. Been pretty brutal ever since." He shook Laguna's hand warmly and then introduced the others. "This lively fellow is Charles Higgins. One of our staunchest clerics and all-Estharian paladin."

"Estharian?" Laguna asked.

"Yeah," Higgins said, "from the lower classes, though. We've got temples here that rival Trabia's but the upper elites and the military machines don't care so much for religious symbols. Except for the God of War, Odin. He's got a massive temple there in the southeast."

"When did they capture you?"

"Three years ago. Been here the longest and worked almost to the death the most. Somehow, my faith keeps me going. I guess... I guess I am looking for a way out, even when I don't think I can see one."

"Wish I had that."

"Hmm..." Higgins said studying Laguna, "don't doubt yourself too much, Mr. Loire."

Laguna chuckled nervously.

"Well, Laguna, meet two polar opposites here but real intelligent friends. Mr. Adam Dobe and Mr. Samuel West. Adam's a staunch peacenik, and Sam's a staunch moneyman. Yet, both of them were captured for saying defaming things about Adel and the Cloture."

"The Cloture?"

"The legislative branch down in Colombia, where the government sector is held. Or what used to contain the government sector, but now holds Adel's private chambers. Dobe's an engineer, and West is an accountant for Dobe's sector. Strong hearts these two have. Plus, they got a crazy idea of building a future bright city somewhere in the middle of the Central Ocean."

"Exceptionally bright and perfectly doable," Dobe said.

"Just need the capital first," West added.

Haydyn chuckled and shook his head, Higgins doing the same thing. "Now, last but not least, the quiet and stoic one who always has the right thing to say when he wants to say it. Mr. Duncan Clarke. You can almost call this guy a master fisherman. He knows everything about the sport."

"Fishing as a sport?"

All but Clarke gave a surprised gasp. The man himself only shook his head and smiled.

"Ah ha," Laguna said, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, "haven't got out much lately."

"No problem," Clarke said, "none of us really have either, and they're only foolin by callin me a _master_ fisherman."

"Nonsense, Dunc," Higgins said. "You've got like thirteen poles and you've caught a marlin with yer _bare hands_!!"

"Only by the grace of Eden, only by the grace of Eden."

The Moomba squeaked. A big smile was on his furry face.

"Mr. Laguna," Higgins said. "There are not many guys in this day and age who would go out of their way to make the poor and downtrodden have a happier and better life. Why do you do that?"

Laguna blinked. "Why... do I do that?"

"Yeah."

"It is a rare sight these days," Dobe said. West nodded his head.

"Ah...." Laguna was shocked. Did he really do that? "Um. It just... has been with me all throughout my life." He looked at the Moomba. "This guy's so cute and furry and compassionate. How can _anyone_ sit there and mistreat this little guy." He reached down and petted the reddie's mane, generating a warm purr from him. "I mean... when I went to that Colisseum and saw the Mayor of that city publicy voicing his approval for animal slaughter, I was just beside myself. When I saw helpless Timber civilians killed for no good reason at all, that was the first thing that made me quit the Army. In the Army, I never fired a single shot against a civilian, and I got downgraded in rank because of that five times all the way down to the E-1 stage. I just...hated... no.. _loathed_.. the military and the rich and the men and women who took advantage of all those who could not help themselves. Now... a little girl that I care about deeply... who lived with a woman that I... care about deeply.. was abducted by these Estharians.. to satisfy this Sorceress creature. A woman monster... that basically ruins people's lives.. kills children for the hell of it.. and enslaves people to do the most remedial jobs available.

"I dunno. I've always been a socialistic person. Both of my friends as well, who are somewhere below us at the moment... hopefully."

The five companions and the Moomba smiled at him. Higgins stepped forward and put a hand on Laguna's shoulder. "You seem like a good candidate to be our leader."

Laguna did a double-take.

"A what? A leader?"

"That's right. You see... when the lights go out, and these Estharian leave us alone for a certain amount of time, that's when we get down to a bit of business. There is a massive underground resistance movement filled with people so dissatisfied with Adel and her merciless demons that they are willing to sacrifice everything they have to fight her. There is also a massive amount of Estharian troops dissatisfied with her they _they've_ joined our side. It may seem strange at first, but they are easy to tell apart. They work remedial jobs and conduct business strictly at nighttime. They are the ones that relay us the messages about what's happening outside, but because they're technically a part of the enemy they cannot fully lead us out of this mess. None of the men and women here are skilled enough nor capable enough to pull off the task as leader. Everybody's got a vendetta and a heart that's not big enough to consume and protect all. That's what we've been looking for."

"You...... you think _I'm_ the one who has... what you're looking for?"

"We've watched you over this past month and a half. By the way, that's how long you've been here... I thought you knew about that... but that's just another reason why you are our candidate. You're heart's so big it concentrates on the more important broader picture. You might... overlook a few crucial details... but that's what advisors are for anyway. You know what _needs_ to be done... that's the most important part."

Haydyn stepped up. "All we've got now our specialists. Specialists in finance. Specialists in diplomacy. Specialists in engineering. Specialists in war. Yet, nobody has a specialty in charisma, leadership and guts. A half-baked plan like that would never defeat a powerful Sorceress, an armor-clad Iron Giant, or even a damn Imp. There's no one to lead the movement... yet."

The Moomba chirped again and tugged at Laguna's leg.

"And you think that's--"

"Hey!! What the fuck is going on here!!"

The Moomba backed away fast, and the other five men scrambled away with frightened expressions. Only Laguna stood still, and his eyes were blazing blue. The lone Estharian had returned, and he still had a perplexed expression on his face. Laguna only stood and did not say a word.

"Did you go tell them?"

His heart was pounding and his mind was racing furiously. In just a matter of seconds, he made up his mind. He folded his arms across his chest and said, "No."

"What?" The perplexed expression gave way to a furious frown.

"You heard what I said. I didn't tell your friends at all."

A sharp knife slid out the holster on the Estharian's sleeve, and the greenie slowly walked towards him. "Boy... you've got five seconds to change yer attitude, before I slit your fucking throat."

Laguna breathed deeply and relaxed his muscles. He held his ground.

The greenie increased his gait. "Time's up you little shit."

"Indeed." The greenie lunged at Laguna, but he sidestepped and grabbed the knife-arm with one hand and the Estharian's neck with the other. Whirling around, he used all his weight and force to twist the knife around and plunge it into the greenie's sternum. His foe's eyes went wide, and Laguna sighed sadly and snapped the Estharian's neck.

The Moomba squeaked, and the five men slowly nodded their heads. Laguna let the body drop, and he heard noises accelerating quickly above him. He wasted no time scooping up the knife as the elevator came crashing down to his level. Two greenies popped out with loaded SMGs ready to pounce. Laguna was on them in a flash, and one swipe slashed open the stomach of one greenie. The man gave a horrifying yell, and he vainly attempted to pull all his guts in writing on the platform in agony. The second greenie was pushed violently to the wall by Laguna, and he dropped his gun.

"Now's your chance, guys!! Grab the guns, take our Moomba friend here and go!"

"Laguna!!" Haydyn said, stunned.

"Now's yer chance!"

They waited another brief second. "Understood, Laguna," Higgins said, corraling them all and picking up the SMGs. "Be careful!"

"You got it!!"

The Moomba squeaked happily and kicked the dying greenie in the face before getting on the elevator with the five humans. Laguna watched the elevator go up and then leapt off the hurt Estharian. He had unknowingly plunged his knife into the greenie's ribs, and the hurt man crumpled to the floor-- still alive, but wheezing. The first greenie slowly succumbed into death.

The elevator doors behind him opened, and he whirled around like a madman.

"Holy shit, Laguna. I didn't think you'd do anything up here!"

"Definitely, definitely."

Laguna blinked his eyes furiously. "Kiros! Ward!" he yelled. "You're alive!!"

"Of course, you dingbat!!" Kiros laughed. He had his daggers strapped to his arms and Laguna's Kalishnakov strapped around his back with a full arsenal of ammunition around his waist.

"Always were a joker," Ward said in his tinny, metallic voice. The anchor swayed heavily on his back, but he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

"Well! Good timing," Laguna shouted.

A secret door opened up behind Kiros and Ward, and three Estharians tagged with a large Gesper creature popped out. The greenies had shotguns pointed out, and the Gesper was waving its arms around stupidly for no apparent reason.

"Hands up, motherfuckers!!" the greenies yelled in unison.

"It's actually _bad_ timing, Laguna!" Kiros said.

"Stop talking and just keep walking!" the greenies ordered.

"Oh! Would you look at that," Ward said in a believably curious voice, and he looked behind the greenies.

The greenies stupidly looked and lost their heads, as Ward effortlessly swung his anchor around and sliced the three clean apart. The Gesper gave a little squeak but stood its ground.

"God_damn_, Ward!" Laguna said, impressed.

"Felt the rush of air on that one," Kiros added, tossing Laguna his gun and ammo.

"Ah, sweet mercy, the hands of precious pie!" Laguna cooed as he pawed his lovely Kalishnakov.

"What the _fuck_ did you just say?" Kiros asked.

"Someone wants to make love with his gun," Ward said.

"Someone's been doing that ever since he left Winhill," Kiros teased, and Ward giggled at that.

"Fuck you two. I'll be with her soon enough. We've got to get another little girl first before that."

"Damn straight, Laguna," Ward said.

"But first.. this little bastard!" Kiros yelled.

The Gesper made a guttural sound and lunged at the two closest men. Its oversized hands knocked into Kiro's chin, and it immediately whirled around and kicked Ward in the groin stumbling him. Laguna dashed forward and sprayed the Gesper's hide with bullets, but the round did little more than piss the creature off. It ran to him and punched him in the gut. Laguna punched back and was able to fire a few bullets into the creature's face. Kiro's daggers came back around and sawed deep cuts into the Gesper's back, and Ward's anchor pierced the fatal blow deep in the Gesper's yellow tissue. The creature coughed up blood and fell to its knees and then to its face.

"Ah... two is better than one. Four is better than two."

"The hell?" Ward asked.

"Are you hallucinating?" Kiros asked.

"Haven't had any acid yet." Laguna replied.

"Who's the fourth one?" Kiros asked.

"Elle, of course. I can just see her now."

"Well, we can if you get us outta--"

"FUCKING SHITS!!!" The wounded Estharian behind Laguna shouted. He lunged forward with all his waning strength to stab Laguna in the neck, but the former soldier did a roundabout kick and slammed the greenie into the elevator, incidentally opening the doors in the process.

"Jail break!!" Laguna cried. "Ladies first!!"

"That would be you, Laguna," Ward giggled.

"Only if you play rough!" Laguna replied and hopped on the elevator. The other two followed, and they jammed their way up to the top.

* * *

As the elevator zoomed upwards, they could see through the glass panels several members of the resistance movement finally duking it out with the surprised Estharians. The greenies were overwhelmed, and the entire comlink was indeed down for the count. Only four of the resistance members had perished, and the greenies were retreating as fast as they could. It was only a matter of time before the Iron Giants made an appearance.

The elevator opened up to the top floor, and they got off immediately. The area was deathly quiet, and a couple of greenies lay perished with SMG tracings over their bodies. Laguna's five friends had done their duty. One of the greenies even had Moomba claw marks on him.

A despicable leering voice caught their attention.

"Doctor Odine," Kiros muttered.

"What's he talking about?" Laguna asked. Not waiting for a reply, he walked over to the closest wall and could just barely make out what the Doc was saying. The head scientist had a knack for a hard accent, and one had to pay close attention to pick up each hard syllable.

"---vhat are you zeenking?!?"

An incoherent voice responded in a stammering tone from somewhere deeper within the room.

"Impossible!!" Odine fired back. "To use ze Lunatic Pandora as a weepon, you vuld need a seestem to move it. Are you reseeching that now?!"

"We don't.....a system....is in store..." the other's voice was filtering in and out.

"How do you come up vith such bold ideers? I could neever come up vith seech breeliant ideers."

"My dear doctor," came a third voice much closer to their ears. "It was _you_ who suggested we use the Lunatic Pandora as a weapon. It was _you_ who suggested burying it in the middle of Centra with enough succubus capacity to be used for further manipulation at a later time. Question is: how much succubus capacity did you put in?"

A nasty guttural laugh echoed out. "I feergot."

"Impossible!" came the first voice of Odine's assistant. Some more incoherent dialog was uttered.

The third assistant spoke up. "Lunar Base was constructed in space for exactly that purpose!!"

"So much money was spent building it," lamented the second. "If the purpose was to observe the Moon, why couldn't they give some of that money to this Lab and we could've appropriated it in much greater regard."

"What about the slaves?" answered the first.

"Fuck zhee slaves!!" yelled Odine. "Theeyre as geed as deed!"

"But....funds....in space..." the first was again breaking up.

"Zat iz ze way it eez. Accept ze charges!!"

"What about these girls we keep getting from out West?" asked the third. "In fact, we've got one little one waiting in the Process Department. Adel has even signalled her impatience."

"Adeel vill be proud vhen she gets theese leetle von! All een due time."

"Sonofabitch," Laguna cursed.

"Hey!! YOU three!!"

"Oh boy, here we go," Kiros said, drawing his knives. The other two turned and beheld the bullish Estharian that had so tormented Laguna for a month and a half. A half-dozen squad trailed behind him with sharp double-bladed axes in their hands. The bullish officer himself had a large axe.

"It's time for you to die, Galbadian scum!"

Laguna fired off a few bullets at the officer, but a blue Shield absorbed the bullets, and the man backed away behind his squad and let them have it. The six goons rushed the three former soldiers and swung their weapons. One of them received bullets in the skull, while two others were diced up by Kiros's knives and Ward's anchor. The other three waffled a bit but struck out wildly. Laguna emptied his clip, falling another one, and then punched a second in the face. His friends killed the rest and then turned to face the boss.

"Damn it all," the boss yelled, and he dropped his shield to transform into a four-armed monster with sharp swords in each hand. He waved them around slyly and then leapt into the air and pounced on them. All three of them suffered cuts on their bodies and were pushed aside. The weapons cut and swung, and it was all they could do to dodge. Kiros and the bullish officer danced around the room, alternating blows on each other's weapons while Laguna fastened in a fresh clip and Ward waited for the perfect opportunity. Laguna readied the clip, Kiros used his weight to bring three of the swords down, and Ward thrust his hefty anchor into the boss's side. The cleaving weight dug in deep and severed off the free-standing sword arm. Laguna pummeled the rest of the body with a full round, and the bullish Estharian dropped like a fly.

"Nothing complicated!!" Laguna cheered.

"Vhat vas that noise!!"

"The doctor's in the house," Ward breathed.

Odine showed himself and gasped loudly.

"Stop right there, doc!" Laguna shouted. "No need to run!!"

"Nonseense!! Ve'll get you soon!"

The doctor and his aides fled back into the room and disappeared in a secret chamber.

"Leave him, Laguna," Kiros advised, "we need to get outta here!!"

"Tch, fine," Laguna replied. "To the exits!!"

* * *

They were greeted by a setting Sun and a strong smell of sulfur. The entire length of the inner city was compressed in a virulent and rank stench and saturated in war-torn detriment. Squalid tenements, rundown precincts, and devastated countryside suburbias were as far as the eye could see. Here at this angle, a good downhill view of the Sorceress's palace was in plain sight and hundreds of Iron Giants were seen milling about. It was not a good idea to be caught out in the middle of the street.

A whisper caught their ears, and they turned to see Charles Higgins and his crew. A lot more than the other four slaves were around outside the salt mine sweatshop.

"Higgins!!" Laguna cried. "What are you still doing here?"

"Mr. Loire...you are exactly what we are looking for. That was an unbelievable maneuver you did back there. Plus, it was a chain reaction! Word travels fast among us slaves. The entire facility is up in arms, and every other slave network is operating under the same condition. With us right now is twenty of the finest warriors on this side of the fifteenth district. We need the other thirty districts to come along before the Moon comes up, and we should be able to take down part of Adel's army."

"You are serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack," answered one of the newer faces. "Name's Billy Bob. Specialty is infantry. Damn good at it, too."

Laguna nodded, acknowledging the mental image.

"Laguna! Now's the time," Haydyn spoke up, pistols hanging off his belt and a grenade launcher in his hand. "We need to exact this blow."

"Grr... Grr..."

"Eh?" Laguna cried, as something brushed his leg. The Moomba smiled up at him and gave the same 'Thank you' sound. "Hey, hey.. look who made it out safely."

"His name's Chip," Dobe said. "He seems to have taken a real liking to you, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." Laguna reached to down pet his mane. "Chip, eh?"

"Grr.. Grr.."

"Of course I don't mind."

"Laguna, what's going on here?" Kiros asked.

"Yeah," Ward said.

"Oh yeah! Guys," he addressed the resistance fighters, "these two dudes are my long-time partners-in-crime Kiros Seagill and Ward Zabac. Kiros, Ward, these are underground Estharian resistance fighters. Their aim is to take down Adel once and for all."

"Tough move," Kiros said seriously.

"It has been all this time," Higgins said. "Now, though, Mr. Laguna is our shining hope."

"Wha-- why?" Kiros looked visibly shocked.

"Gee, thanks a lot," Laguna replied, with Ward chuckling.

"Oh, it's no joke," Higgins said, "we see a side of Laguna here that can bring all of us together for a common purpose. We feel _he_ is the one that can lead us together against her!"

"Yeah.... heh.. yeah.." Ward laughed.

"You are seriously joking," Kiros said.

"Serious we are... joking we are not," Haydyn said.

Kiros and Ward looked at each of them and then looked at Laguna who had a dumbass expression on his face. "Look...." Kiros said slowly, "Laguna is our friend... and he is a nice guy and all... but he is really, really clumsy and--"

"-- and he never stops to question _how_ something must be done. He only stops to think _why_ it must be done," Clarke spoke up. He addressed the entire city with a wave of his hand. "Here was our home. A vast and beautiful expanse of land... that we ended up taking for granted. The bad stuff came almost immediately. The woman Adel D'Overture was infected with a ravenous disease that slowly poisoned her body and deformed her in a succubus sepulcher. She ravaged the land and bred demons that mutilated the earth and enslaved us all. None of us had the stomach or the political will to stand up to her and fight. We all had a lot of pent-up anger with no direction and no focus."

"Until now!!" cried out West.

"Yes, until now," Higgin continued. "Laguna represents everything a leader should have: the wits, the brains, the brawn. He has a little of all three and charisma to inspire others to stand by him to the very end. For sure, he couldn't tackle this task all by himself. But with his unusually strong heart, he can sure as hell convince all of us to tackle it with him."

"That is probably why you two are his closest friends," Haydyn added. "Why you two stuck with him the longest. You two also have that same strange charisma... judging by the stories we have heard from our friends in Timber and Ithius."

"We would be honored to serve under you three," Higgins said grandly.

"Holy.... crap..." Kiros said.

"Sounds great to me," Ward confirmed.

"Told you guys I got the stuff!" Laguna laughed.

"Yeah... I guess you did," Kiros replied, nodding his head.

The salt factory opened its doors, and the whole group looked worried at first. An Estharian official walked out in splendid robes that were sky blue down the middle, dark green on the sides, and dark blue on the back. He wore a blue watch cap on his head, and his face was a mixture of happiness and confusion.

"Ah, Russel!" Higgins said, smiling and reaching out to shake his hand. "Everything alright in there?"

"Alright? The slaves have revolted, and the resistance has gotten more elevated than ever." Russel stopped and looked at Laguna. "All thanks to this man right here. Our savior!" To Laguna's surprise, he found himself shaking the Estharian's hand. "Wonderful pleasure to see you alive, Mr. Loire."

"You... all.. are certainly leaving me with little choices or say in this matter."

"You act like you've never thought of this before, Laguna," Higgins laughed.

"Uh... Mr. Russel..."

"Oh, Laguna, please not the _Mister_. _Russel_ is perfectly fine."

"Well... Russel...you're an Estharian official. Look like a scientist judging from the insignia."

"Judge correct. I am an assistant to Doctor Odine, but the daft man doesn't know who I really am."

"He's a spy for the resistance," Higgins explained. "A damn good one, too. He's the one that managed to secure us with loads of the military's top-notch weapons."

"Evidence here," Haydyn said giddily, clutching his launcher.

An excited murmur went through the crowd, as each of the men giddily pawed their weapons. Russel laughed and then looked seriously at Higgins. "The doc's gone and done something stupid again."

"What is it?"

"Well, we all know that Adel keeps getting more pissed by the day. Apparently, she's not too happy about Odine's new favorite toy he's playing with."

"What? The Lunatic Pandora?" Laguna asked.

"Was that you listening in on the conversation?" Russel asked.

"Yep." Ward and Kiros smiled along with Laguna.

Russel laughed. "Nice job on the officer. Haven't seen a sight like that in ages. Yeah, it is the Pandora. He wants the thing buried so it can be extrapolated later for bigger uses."

"Like what?" Higgins asked.

"Annihilation. Something more devastating than Ultima bombs. But, oh well, Adel would do that regardless. I guess she wants to get the bombing started immediately, instead of later."

"Goddamn bitch," snapped one of the new resistance faces, followed a barrage of nasty slurs that went on for quite a while.

"If you think that's nasty," Russel said, "wait til you hear this. She's demanded the release of one girl, a Miss Ellone. This little one is due to be infected with the succubus virus immediately at midnight tonight."

"What?!!" Laguna shouted.

"Laguna, is something wrong?" Haydyn asked.

"Elle's the whole reason I'm here in this city. It's been...Kiros.. how long's it been since we left Winhill?"

"....Five months?" he asked Ward.

"Shit. Got me," the big man replied.

"It's been five months!" Laguna said definitively.

"You know her?" Russel asked.

"Yes! Where is she? Where's Ellone?!"

Russel thought for a couple minutes. "Well, she's in the Processing Department just a little ways from here--"

"--Processing Department, got it!"

"--But... that building constantly gets attacked by fledgling resistance fighters for obvious reasons. Adel demands it to be moved every week or so. I am not quite sure where they moved it to now."

"Damn," Laguna muttered.

"Ah, Laguna, don't despair. Doctor Odine will know where she is."

"Odine? That crazy fool?"

"Of course. He should be hiding right in his office... like the coward he is. He'll talk quite easily, I would think."

"Then that's what we are going to do." The former soldier was moving quicker than his mind was working, and he was quite confused when his two friends weren't moving at all and he stood at the entrance to the salt mine with another idiot expression on his face.

"Laguna," Kiros said. He indicated with a nod in the direction of the resistance fighters.

Laguna stopped and observed them all. It seemed they were hoping for the best. Somewhere inside of him, he could feel the faeries buzzing away. That cantankerous upbeat personality fighting against a supernatural phenomenon. Somehow, though, he was able to finally calm those faeries down. For the first time, he felt a strong regulation take a hold of him. He could tell, because everybody including Kiros and Ward took a step back in shock at his appearance. "In return for your help in finding Ellone," he said sincerely, "I'll help you lead a frontal assault on Adel's palace... tonight!"

"Damn," Russel whispered, an excited gleam in his eye.

"You can count on it, Laguna," Higgins said, fist-pumping the air. "Extract the info out of him, and we'll go round up a few more guns!"

"Roger that," Laguna smiled. His friends caught up to him, and the group parted ways.

* * *

The strong smell of salt once again hit their noses, but they trotted down the corridors. Laguna's assault rifle out at the ready hit around every corner. Kiros had his knives at deadly attack range, and Ward kept the heavy anchor balanced neatly on his shoulders. Laguna busted down the door to Odine's office and found the place to be empty.

"Damn it all!" Laguna cursed.

"There's got to be a secret passage somewhere," Kiros said.

"I'll check the desk," Ward said.

While the big man worked the desk for any sign of suspicion, Laguna noticed one of the doctor's walls. Pictures of previous young girls who were to be offered for the "transformation" before Adel were plastered all over the wall. A great disgust overtook him: some of the photos contained little images and words on them, with cutesy sayings and starred ornaments. Some very sensual remarks were made over particular girls, and one of them happened to be Ellone. Laguna paused in front of the wall and took not just Elle's face but all the rest.

"This sick fuck..." Laguna cursed.

Kiros watched the wall, too, and was at a loss for words. Ward tried not to get distracted, but he was so mad he slammed his fist down hard onto a book on the desk. The impact triggered something, and the wall they were looking at opened up revealing a secret hallway. Laguna cocked his rifle. "That bastard'll be lucky if he talks." He ran down the hallway, not caring where the destination led to, and the other two hurried to catch up.

The hallway descended further into the sweatshop and opened up into the heart of the salt factory where the giant turbines churned up the salt from the ground and the long stretch of tubes and cylinders carried the formed salt crystals to their respective destinations. The converyor belts were still running, and dangerous mechanical and cutting equipment were running without any safeguards attatched to them thanks to the slaves not being inside doing their work. A few slaves and Estharian security were found dead across the platform.

Doctor Odine stood alone in the center of the platform, hands calmly clasped behind his back.

Even though the situation looked obviously suspicious, the three of them headed towards him regardless. "Hands where we can see them, Odine!!" Laguna shouted, waving his gun madly at the doc.

Odine produced his empty hands and held them in front of them.

"Where is Ellone, doc?!!"

"Eellone? Vho eez theese Eellone?"

"Goddamnit, speak the proper language!!" Ward yelled, his mechanical voice picking up a vibrant twang that caused Odine to flinch.

"Shut up, Odine," Laguna demanded. "Tell us where she is!!"

"Vhat I am beeing seereous!! Vho iz these Eellone?"

"She's the girl that is to be infected tonight!" He got that out there quickly. It hurt Laguna to even say something like that.

"Ohhhh..." Odine's eyes sparkled. "Aha... she _eez_ a beauty, no?"

Laguna unexpectedly fired off a shot and tore a bullet through Odine's left shoulder. The doctor screamed and fell to the side, and the trap set abruptly. The doors behind them closed, as well in front of them, and Odine slowly managed to get out of the way as ten Estharians and some weird floating tripod thing fell from an upper level down to their platform. More double-bladed axes and shotguns were pointed at them, and the floating elastoid creature hovered menacingly with its three bloodstained legs spinning around a loose diocese underneath its belly.

"Hands up, Galbadians!!" the squad demanded.

"Damn it all! I am really getting sick and tired of this shit!" Laguna's faeries were burning in his stomach, and he let fly with the bullets even though shotguns were firing off at him. His bullets took down three instantly, but a shotgun blast tore through his leg just below the knee. Ward quickly covered him partially with the girth end of his anchor, and the second shotgun blast split apart on the anchor's broadside. Kiros somersaulted over to the squad and proceeded to dice away, while Ward stayed to protect Laguna. The injured former soldier however was not to be abated. He continued to ravage the squad, imperfectly at best, with his gun. The elastoid hovered over him and Ward and proceeded to beat at them with its tripod legs. One leg hit Laguna's head and knocked him to the floor, and another smacked into Ward's back. Ward retailated with a lunge of his anchor, cutting a deep graft off the creature's hide, but the elastoid knocked him to the ground, too.

Kiros quickly killed off every Estharian except for one, who managed to knock both him and Kiros off the platform. Kiros lost control of his knives and the Estharian his battle-axe, and both men crashed onto the moving conveyor belt. Laguna cursed when he saw what lay at the end of the belt-- a sawing machine that was cutting up blocks of salt on the belt. It was about a hundred yards from shredding both men's bodies. "Damn it all!!" Laguna yelled again. "Shut off the belt's energy supply," Ward ordered, "I'll handle this bitch!" Laguna nodded and made his way painfully to the console. Ward sneered at the elastoid who studied the large man carefully before attacking. Ward whirled around, swinging the anchor in a heavy sloop. The elastoid dodged it and struck him in the back, genuflecting the large man.

The conveyor belt moved at a fast speed and many salt blocks were busy waiting to be sliced up in fine crystals. Both men were covered in swaths of salt, and it made their noses twitch. However, they both saw the sharp-as-hell blades come down to smash heartily the salt blocks, and they gave a collective gulp, but the Estharian reacted first and punched Kiros in the gut. Kiros punched him back and slammed his face in the belt, getting some good salt up the man's nose. The Estharian sneezed a bloody snot pus and weakly jammed his fist into Kiros's neck. The blow staggered him, but he kept his pace. The blades were coming fast, and they both attempted to retreat backwards, but they slipped over each other on the ample salt.

Laguna reached a hand on the console, but the flash of a knife almost made him lose his arm. Odine stumbled and fell through his lunging attack, and Laguna grabbed the doc by the upper back and kept him down. Through the corner of his eye, he saw the blades were within five feet of killing Kiros and the Estharian, and he suppressed Odine down good enough to shut off the belt's electricity. The blades gave one final crash-down, and Kiros weakly propelled the Estharian first and the blades chopped his blueish head clean off. Odine laughed sickly and headbutted Laguna, drawing the knife up and slashing a thin cut on Laguna's chest. A surprised Laguna fell back, and Odine pounced with great fury holding him down and attempting to plunge the knife in his heart. Laguna kept both hands busy, one on the knife and one crushing Odine's face.

Another tripod leg smacked into Ward's front and almost sent him over the edge. Ward dropped his anchor, and the elastoid scurried it away with a nonchalant kick and then stalked the bewildered man. Ward spat at the creature and charged it, knocking it to the ground. It's metal skin was hard as rock, but Ward's faeries burned harshly in _his_ stomach and he steeled himself up to the pain. One fist caved the metal body of the elastoid and exploded the electrical machinery inside, disabling and severing off two of its legs. Barely alive, it gave a tiny squeak and Ward slammed his fist down a second time and killed the bastard. He then got up weakly, took a few steps and then collapsed onto the floor.

Laguna and Odine remained in their position for another full minute, and the doctor was surprisingly strong to Laguna's horror. Whether by crazed obssession or not, Odine was using all his weight to slowly drive the knife closer to Laguna's chest. Both men were growing tired, and Laguna was just about to give up. The cold point of the knife touched his chest and started to pierce a little hole, and Laguna strung out a series of curse words at the doctor, much to the man's delightful pleasure. Kiros steeled himself and leaped across tubes and broken machinery, landing on the platform dizzy and shaken. He scooped up his knives and sawed open the back of Odine, who dropped his knife and hit the floor. Laguna gasped and breathed many short breaths before he finally relaxed himself. Kiros sat on the floor and did the same, and Ward scooped up his anchor and painfully joined them.

All three of them looked angrily at the doc, who whimpered and winced at the pain in his back. His aides walked in immediately after unsealing the doors and were met with nasty looks from Laguna, Kiros and Ward.

"We're not hear to fight. We'll tell you where she is!" one of them whimpered.

"Then tell, dammit!!" Laguna yelled.

"The Processing Department has been moved to the O Lab downtown. Ten blocks south from here. Take the blue-colored highway to get there!"

"Couldn't have told us that before?" Kiros asked, painfully getting up.

"We weren't here to stop his crazy plans," one of the aides replied, walking towards them with some fancy health vials. "We regret this maneuver. Please forgive us."

"Save those words until we rescue Ellone and defeat Adel," Laguna said.

"Def---Adel--- what?!!" all four of the aides said.

"You heard us," Ward said, amused.

"Th--That's--"

"--Impossible?" Kiros asked.

"Nothing's impossible," Laguna said, defiantly.

"Dear Eden," one of the aides said.

Odine made a guttural sigh, and Laguna kicked him in the stomach. "I'll tell you when to speak. All I want from you is compliance and respect for the people you helped enslave!!"

"Yessir..."

"Look at me when you say that!!"

Odine painfully looked up. "YESSIR!!"

"Better... There is promise for you."

* * *

"You three are better than we thought," Russel said admirably. The three Galbadians had never seen an economical car before, but the vehicle they were in now completely ran on electricity. The Estharian cars were the pinnacle of the world-- when they were properly funded and running at full capacity. Because of the Sorceress occupation and the lack of funding, the cars and the highway were only seldom used and electricity was spare. Nevertheless, the men were determined to make their way to Ellone, and the time was nigh when Laguna would be ecstatic in her embrace once more.

"Nothing to it, Rus," Laguna said with a smile.

"We're almost there," Higgins said. It was cramped in the car with the three Galbadians, Odine's aide, and the head resistance member packed inside, but they could see the O Lab popping up over the horizon. The city needed major infrastructure work done to it, if only the damned Iron Giants wouldn't constantly wreck everything. The road was bent out of shape, the shops and buildings were either burnt or razed. The O Lab itself was stained with years of neglect and looked ready to self-implode. It was about ten stories tall and a hollowed-out shell of a husk. Very forboding.

Russel nudged. "You three should be fine in getting to her. We're almost done assembling everybody. We're meeting here in about an hour. An informant from the outside will escort Ellone out of the city to wherever you want her to go. After that, we tackle the palace."

"Laguna, " Kiros said, "are you ready?"

Laguna clapped his hands once and rubbed them together. "Showtime, ladies!!"

The crew laughed, and the car came to a stop at the gates. Everybody fist-bumped each other and the three former Galbadians split once more. They sucked in breath and entered the hollow complex.

The inside was cold and drab. The wall were ivory white, and the floors were dirty with specks of paint chipped in the grout between the tiles. Their footsteps made sharp echoes ring out through the expanse, and they kept their weapons at the ready, expecting anything to pop its blue mangy head. The tiles gave way to a single strip of red carpet trimmed with blue, gold and white ruffles that ran straight to the end of the hallway where a locked blue set of doors awaited them. No knob or hinge was applicable to part the doors.

"Damn it all," Laguna muttered.

"Why is always the simple things that get us down?" Kiros questioned sadly.

Ward grunted. "The hell is that?"

The other two looked to where he pointed, and they were confused as to why a hole was stuck in the see-through roof and a long purple tube tunnel stretched up and into the area that lay beyond locked blue doors.

"Curiouser and curiouser..." Laguna muttered again.

A whirling set of lights flickered on the floor, and a small dais levitated off the ground. It looked big enough to carry one person at a time. Two more dais appeared and levitated inches off the ground.

"Somebody knows we're here," Ward said.

"_Somebody_ will get a warm reception then," Kiros said with a snicker.

"Pick your dais, you two," Laguna chuckled like an idiot and sat on one. He gave a little squeak when it suddenly zipped into the purple tunnel.

"Geez, Laguna, you sound like a little girl sometimes---whoa! Holy shit.." Kiros gave the same squeak, as his dais jettisoned into the tunnel. Ward made the same move, and all three of them spun into the nether regions of the O Lab. Their eyes caught the sight of several bizarre and grotesque experiments: "skinned" specimens, mutated body parts, imprisoned young girls that had died from starvation, small baby Imps being injected with some type of fluid, and a storage shed ice-cold and full of "harvested" bodies.

The ride ended in a quiet and empty platform next to an open door. Blip noises from old computers were squeaking and clicking. The sounds of keyboards being struck indicated that someone was inside. Laguna got off his dais and readied his gun. Kiros and Ward readied their weapons and quietly stepped off their dais. All three slowly entered the room and found a slew of Estharian workers busy typing away and experimenting with gadgetry of the strangest kinds. Laguna was positively blown away by all the strange gizmos on this continent. Two Estharian soldiers were monitoring the workers with their shotguns doing the camera work.

"Drop your weapons, now!!" Laguna yelled in his fiercest voice, dashing into the room and holding his Kalishnakov steady at his shoulder.

The two Estharians were completely caught off guard, and they promptly dropped their guns. "D-Don't hurt us!!" one of the said, meekly.

The workers all stopped what they were doing and looked absolutely relieved.

Laguna brought down his gun. "I'm not here to hurt anyone, I'm here to get a little girl named Ellone out of here."

"The girl that's supposed to be sacrificed tonight?" one of the workers asked

"Yes... and she won't be." Laguna thought for a second. "And I want all the other girls in this facility still alive to be released at once!!"

"Hell no!!" one of the soldiers protested.

Kiros stepped up and scraped his knives together, creating a sickening squelch sound. Ward came, cracked his neck, and effortlessly twirled his heavy anchor. "Care to rethink that?" Kiros asked.

"Re-Rethinking...rethinking," the soldier replied, nervously chuckling.

Laguna looked at the workers, and they smiled and got busy unlocking the cells and the blue doors down below them. "Locks undone, sir. We can proceed to free them."

"Do that. Get them all out and assemble with the resistance forces. We're taking Adel on tonight!!"

There were many gasps, but when they saw that the three men had serious and proud faces they couldn't help but feel elated. They left immediately, and Laguna turned to the two soldiers. "Well, what are you going to do?"

"Get the hell out of here?" they said in unison.

"Want a better job?"

"Helping... you?" they asked.

"What else?"

The two nodded and left after the workers, and Laguna fist-bumped his friends. "Let's go get her!!" He could hardly suppress the smile on his face.

Down the purple chute, they found the doors open and Laguna bolted inside...

...and came to a complete stop.

She looked around in a daze at first, but upon seeing his face she gave the cutest awed expression. Her eyes sprung wide open, and her mouth made a huge gape. "Unca Laguna!!"

Suddenly everything was alright in the world again. His legs felt like jello, and his mind raced in a sea of clouds. He embraced her and picked her up off the floor and gave her the warmest bear hug he had ever given her. Ward and Kiros stood patiently by and smiled at Laguna's love for this little girl. It had taken a long time to reach her, and maybe tribulations had passed between them and this final moment. Patience was definitely a virtue for them.

"Unca Laguna!! I thought I would never see you again."

"Me neither, sweetie."

"But, Raine---"

"She understood what I needed to do. I told you before I wouldn't let anything happen to you. After those monsters defeated and took you away from me, I knew I had to get you back." He saw her smile and form a happy twinkle in her eye and they both hugged each other, her little arms around his neck and squeezing pretty hard for a girl her size. "I'm....I'm sorry I was a little late," he added sheepishly.

"I'm soooo glad to see you again! But what about that mean lady?"

"Adel?"

"Yea...what's going to happen now?"

"I'm getting you outta here. A good friend of mine is going to take you back to Winhill with Raine."

"And yoo?"

"I'm staying here and taking on that mean lady."

"NO!" she protested, jerking off of him and looking at him as if he was crazy. "You can't! She'll kill you!!"

"She may be more than mean, Elle, but she's not invincible. One thing's for sure...I don't want her anywhere near you. Understand? The only thing I can think of that can make that happen is if _I_ stop her myself. I need you as far away as possible, so you can be safe."

"B....But.."

"No buts. I came all this way in one piece somehow, right?"

She thought about that and giggled a bit. Even at the age of four, she was impeccable in the observation department.

"No sweat, little Elle," Kiros said. "He's got _us_ to back him up. Plus a few thousand other resistance fighters."

"A few thousand!!" she exclaimed.

"Oh yes," Ward said, nodding his head. "we don't really need them, we can take her on ourselves."

She gave a little gasp.

"But they're so impressed with Laguna," Kiros furthered, "that they're willing to protect him and this city from her and cronies. We'll be fine."

"No need to worry," Laguna reiterated. "Everything'll be fine."

"But... Unca Laguna..."

"You are the Queen of Buts, young lady."

She giggled at that.

He set her down gently on the floor. "Listen. I promise you...I'll be back in Winhill before you know it. I'll take on Adel, unify the people here so they can rebuild their city, and I'll be back with you and Raine in no time." He brushed the strands of hair out of her eyes. "I promise you that."

She gave the biggest smile and hugged him tight again.

* * *

The sky was dark and foreboding of the impending assault. News had spread quick, and both sides had built up their forces. The resistance had about fifteen hundred well-armed men and women on the ground and in buildings. The Sorceress had three times that number at the heart of the city around her palace ten blocks from where the core of the resistance force lay. Both sides waited for the other to light the first match.

Laguna, Kiros and Ward exited O Lab with Ellone on Laguna's shoulders. The six main leaders of the resistance Haydyn, Higgins, Dobe, West, Clarke and Russel were talking with secondary leaders and ordinary members of the resistance. Hundreds were kneeling and praying, fixing their guns and swords, and sitting stoicly ready for the fight. A few more Moombas had joined Chip and were discussing things out in their own language--which was actually more of a sensory communication with a lot of touching and rubbing each other's mane.

A new figure the three of them had never seen before was in the crowd of Higgins and Haydyn, and he immediately turned to them and waved at them. He was a middle-aged man with glasses, smooth brown hair and kind stature. Higgins saw Laguna and Ellone on his shoulders and smiled big. "Laguna sir! Please meet my accomplice, Mr. Cid Kramer. He and his wife run an orphanage out on the western-most peninsula of Centra, free from most opposition and overseen by the Centran Coast Guard. Mr. Kramer, this is the honorable Laguna Loire, the honorable Kiros Seagill and the honorable Ward Zabac."

Cid smiled broadly and shook each of their hands. "Pleased to meet you all, and pleased to meet _you_ especially, little one," he smiled at Ellone, who immediately smiled back. This Kramer guy had a certain warm affection that radiated out of him.

"Pleased to meet you, too, Mr. Kramer," Laguna said shaking the man's hand.

"I can have her out of here in no time at all. I am very amazed at what you are about to do."

"You and me both. Um.. would you mind taking her back to Winhill? If that's no trouble."

"No trouble at all. Good company there?"

Laguna slowly nodded. "Yes. Very good company. She hasn't seen me for over half a year."

"I'll make sure little Elle here gets there. No need to worry about a thing. My wife and I will come check up on her from time to time if you'd like."

"I would be grateful for that."

Cid smiled and nodded, and Laguna helped Ellone off his shoulders. Once on the ground, she didn't let go of his hand. "Unca Laguna... please don't go down there!" Her face scrunched up in fright.

"I promise we will see each other again. And Raine and us will live happily forever."

"Mean it?"

"Mean it. Now go, get out of here before it gets messy."

"Okay," she answered in as courageous a voice as she could muster. She let go of his hand and held onto Cid's hand. The crowd parted to let them pass, and the two of them entered Cid's boat that lay docked at the pier. Laguna kept a steady watch on her until she disappeared from his view once again. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly and contentedly.

He snapped to attention. "Alright, ladies and gentleman!!"

The crowd focused intently on him, and Kiros and Ward made room for everyone to get a good look at him.

"Strong people of Esthar, Trabia, Centra, and even from the Western continent. We take heed and permitted persuasion to commit ourselves to armed multitudes in an attempt to defeat an army of treachery and malice that abhors everything good and plentiful on this earth. I am here to lead you in that attempt to defeat that army of treachery and malice. Let this tyrant queen, the great and forsaken Sorceress Adel, be cast asunder by our weapons. Let her fear the bravery of man once more!" A huzzah sounded off. "I place my greatest strength within the hearts and minds of you, and, therefore, place myself in your care and in your leadership to let you sieze this day!! I take up these arms as your general, your judge and your rewarder for every virtue you hold dear to your heart. No Iron Giant, no Imp, no Chimera, no Malboro, no wayward Estharian soldier, and not even the Queen herself can stop the strength and unity within your frame. I unify you as one collective spirit, and I intend to cultivate you afterwards. By the grace of Eden, the hammer of Odin, and the love of Shiva we ride as one into the throes of war!! Are---you---ready?!!!!"

The resistance cried in applause and held their weapons up high in the air. The Moombas danced and jumped in the air, their paws waving and swooshing in their own styles of beat. Ward and Kiros clapped him on the back, and Laguna took the head of the field. "We march!!!"

The fighters in the buildings scurried to their economic vantage points, and the ground forces broke into a run.

Further down in the war-torn city, Adel stood in the vestibule outdoor frame of her palace guarded by two of her Knights who looked rather queasy at the sudden change of wind. Two Iron Giants guarded the gates to her palace, and the surrounding streets were clogged with nervous Estharian soldiers and hundreds of confounded Imps. A couple Chimeras patrolled aimlessly throughout the neighborhoods, and even some Malboros had managed to sneak their way in. Adel spoke in a strange and cryptic tone, most of the beauty that she had had before shrunken into a ghastly corpselike visage. At the snap of her fingers, the Imps and soldiers took off and one Knight sprouted wings and flew to top of her palace, a scepter striking out of his cloak and a band of purple energy billowing off his chest.

Laguna saw the Imps approaching fast, and he signalled for his "sky team" commanders to lay the first shots. The commanders in the buildings gave the order, and streams of bullets rained down upon the soft, fleshy skulls of the Imps. The purplish-red bat-like demons were frail and weak and succumbed easily to one shot. Explosions of amber blood gushed out and covered the ground and highway in a silky yellowish-brown mess. All the Imps had to attack were weak claws, but some had tiny little pitchforks that looked sharp enough to cut through flesh. The bullets took out multiple lines, but the damn creatures were small and agile and raced around building corners and blocks as easily as flood waters crashing through a city. They poured out in droves and surprised the ground forces instantly. They could jump and land people to the ground, and they drove many down and instantly clawed and bit at their necks.

The soldiers appeared, armed with shotguns, machine guns and rocket launchers. A missile went straight into Ward's section of the squad, stumbling him to the ground and incinerating dozens of people. The machine gunner soldiers hooked themselves behind overturned cars and razed buildings and started firing heavily at the sky team. The shotgun joes leapt like monkeys and surprised many resistance with lightning-quick reflexes. Heads exploded, resistance fighters were driven back, and the Estharians pounced quicker than ever. The Imps flooded the forces and gnawed at the fallen. Laguna and Kiros did their best to stave off the flood of Imps, wishing they could translate some of their "faerie juice" onto their squad. Ward tackled a number of Estharians, splitting several in half, beheading others and suffering a few wounds and holes in the process.

A Chimera leaped into the fight, killed several of its own fighting forces by accident and then tore into one of the buildings occupied by the sky team. With its ravenous lion's head, it rended several dozen people before being pelted with hundreds of rounds of ammunition. Its riddled carcass fell to the streets in a heap and made a thunderous sound. The sky team could not rest long, for another Chimera leapt up to them, tailed by a load of Imps that hitched a ride on its back. The Chimera fixed itself in, and the Imps flooded the building like termites and gnawed at every human they could get their teeth on. Gunfire mixed everywhere and inadvertently made friendly-fire hits.

Another missile singed Ward's squad, followed by three that hit Kiros's and two that smashed into Laguna's, including a bit of damage that tore a gash on his face. He fell to his knee and heard a deafening sound in his ears worse than the splitting headache the faeries caused him from time to time. The Imps swarmed him and flattened him to the ground, but his Kalishnakov tore half of them off. He felt teeth sink into his neck and blood run down his shirt. His free hand punched the creature in the face, and his gun killed the rest. Dobe and West hauled him up, and Clarke provided covering fire as they defiladed to the nearest high-rise.

Ward pulled Kiros to the side and noted the missile launcher Estharians. The squad of nine were busy reloading, and Ward signalled Haydyn and Higgins. The two men sounded off with calls for covering fire, and they were granted. Admist the screaming lunatic ire of Imp yells and the Chimera roar, Higgins and Haydyn stepped into the middle of the street and launched their rockets. The orange-tipped death cones incinerated three Estharian widowmakers and severely burned two others. Higgin's rocket blew a huge chunk out of the closest building to the widowmakers and ended up decapitating a fourth one. The other three made a frightened expression and hastily shoved their rockets in, but Laguna and his squad beat back the Imps and shotgun shits long enough to off the last three rocket men. A shotgun blast ripped close to Haydyn and deafened him for a minute; another blast hit a car next to Higgins and drove him back into a wider view in the street. A third blast tore through his exposed back, and a fourth ripped his neck wide open.

"Sonofabitch!!" Laguna yelled. Kiros gaped, stunned, and Ward spat a nasty slew of curses. All three men took turns trading fire with the shotgun Estharians, while the bulk of their crew fended off the annoying Imps. Above them all, the Chimera ripped to pieces thirty more sky team members before dying the same death as its partner did.

Shotgun and machine gun fire streamed back and forth recklessly. Three Estharian fighters died, several more resistance fighters died, Kiros sustained a shin injury and face-planted the ground. Another volley hit Ward's lower back and outed him for a few minutes. Laguna almost got decapitated with a blast hitting four feet above his head. With time, Laguna's squad riddled the Estharians wholly, and they advanced.

The Knight had other ideas, and he took to the air. Whipping around the corner, he thrust his dark energy into the resistance and blew back at least fifty people in a messy and bloody heap. He levitated high up in the air and shielded himself from the sky team's machine gun fire. The Knight blasted the commanders in the high-rises to bits with another dark energy boost. Haydyn spat, loaded another rocket, and fired it at the Knight. The rocket split open the shield protecting him, and the Knight gasped in shock. Haydyn yelled for full volley, and the Knight was pierced with four different directions of ammuntion.

Laguna aided and helped Ward and Kiros up. Together, and since most of the Imps had now started to retreat in a shell-shocked frenzy, they attempted to cull together the majority of those still standing. Deep footsteps made their hearts sink, however. They all looked up to see a sixty-story high-rise crumple to the side, as the massive hammer of an Iron Giant tore it to pieces. A second Giant stepped up behind it, and the two brutes proceeded to split the entire resistance apart.

"Rocket fire!! We need Rocket fire!!" Laguna yelled. Shouts and screams filled the air of people dying, people acting confused, and people shouting other orders that Laguna didn't want happening at the moment. He and his friends stood transfixed, as the two Giants easily dispatched a hundred people of their squad with effortless fury Bodies were flung into the air, hurled into buildings, impaled with sharp jabs of their hammers, and even stepped on. The faeries in Laguna's bodies seemed at a loss for words for this. Then, something tugged against his ass. He let out a little gasp at Chip and his friends. He was getting few grenades out of Laguna's belt. "Hey!! What're you doing?!"

"Grr..." Chip hummed.

"What are you thanking me for?!!"

Chip and his Moomba pals were off in an instant. Laguna and the rest of the resistance watched from their vantage points as the four little Moombas charged the Iron Giants. The monsters looked at them and almost laughed. They swung their mighty hammers and split one of the reddies in half-- its grenade exploding off to the side--but missed the other three. Chip and his two pals hopped on one of the Giant's legs and skimmed up to its chest. The Giant's pal looked at the scene, and the invaded Giant tried to shoo them off. It got one off, dropping the Moomba flat on its back, but the other two scurried to the head. Chip clawed out both its eyes, making a horrible earth-shaking scream come out of it, and the other Moomba dropped a grenade down the Giant's joints. Chip held on to the shoulders, but his friend lost his grip and fell to his death. The rigged Giant continued to scream and freak out and its friend was at a loss of actions.

"Chip!! Get off of there!!" Laguna screamed vainly. The little Moomba looked down at Laguna sadly but proudly and stayed on. Seconds later, the grenade exploded and ripped the Iron Giant's upper body completely off. Bits of metal pierced the other Giant and stumbled the creature. Laguna stared wide-eyed at the mess, and all he could see was small red chunks of mane flying everywhere. He snapped his head and smashed his fist into an overturned car. He grabbed Haydyn's rocket launcher off the man's back and walked out into the middle of the street. A few Imps charged him, but with his Kalishnakov he emptied the last rounds into their skulls. A lone Estharian gunner popped out and smacked bullets into his left shoulder, right calf and the side of his stomach. Laguna flung his rifle at the man's face, grabbed him by the neck and surprisingly twisted it rapidly to the side. Hurting like a bitch, he consumed all the energy from the faeries that he could and looked at the hobbling Iron Giant. The massive iron-clad was terribly pissed, and it rushed the small six-foot man. Laguna spat blood onto the highway and loaded a missile in. The distance shortened wildly, and sky team gunners fruitlessly put bullets into the hardened shell torso of the Giant.

Laguna shoved the rocket in, clicked it ready and took one last look at the Giant's angry yellow eyes. "Life's a fucking bitch sometimes!!!" He fired the rocket, and the orange-tipped cone of death spiralled up to the Giant's face and blew the son of a bitch backwards in a hail of debris. It crashed hard into some buildings, and several stories crushed the rest of the life out of it.

Laguna held the empty launcher on his shoulder and just stood there amid the death and destruction and silence. The palace was in sight. Adel was staring right at him.

They were not fifty feet away, and the Sorceress Adel watched the small stocky figure of a Galbadian man who had succumbed the best of her fighting forces. It was a long trip to Tear's Pointe, where more lay for her to pluck, but now she was stunned as all mighty hell.

He could see her writhing in ire and agony. Kiros, Ward, Haydyn, Dobe, West, Clarke and all who were still alive or barely alive hobbled their way over to the statuesque stance of Laguna and eyed Adel warily yet sternly.

She sputtered out a vitrolic and hate-filled cry and sprouted massive sanguine wings and took to their air. A great volume of energy hit the resistance movement and drove some of them to the ground, but Laguna managed to stay standing. Adel hovered closer to the resistance, beat her wings twice slowly to steady her gait and then levitated off the ground. The corspeness of her stature overshadowed the beauty all the way, and her bright green eyes pervaded all else on her face. Her skin was more purple than ever, and her hair had started to turn as red as the fires of hell itself. She was well-endowed, and her breasts almost fell out of her loose-fitting vest from all her heavy heavings of breath. She had crossed her shapely legs, and the cape she wore hung loosely between them.

"Devillish human, what be thy name?!!" Her voice was sickly and ill, a scene that shocked most people standing in front of her. When did she seem so weak?

"My name is Laguna Loire, and I am here to stop you from taking over this city. I am here to stop you from killing anymore young girls."

"The transformations must continue!! My time is running up!!"

"That's a good thing."

"Foolish human. Ultimecia knows no bounds with that attitude. If she were here now, she'd crush you all with more than what I have at my disposal."

"Well, she's not here. But _I_ am!! And _I_ will crush you down."

Adel cringed at the sincerity. She hated confidence in men, and she was going to prove him wrong. She leapt back a little bit and summoned some of her hidden strength and dark aura. Laguna, however, was not to be abated. He knew what she was doing, and... more importantly.. he knew what _he_ was doing.

He had been through a lot. He had seen a lot. He had found his young girl again. He had promised he would see her again. There was another girl, a bigger older girl, with whom he also promised he'd see again. He'd be **damned** if some supernatural bitch would tell _him_ how to feel!! Then there was the faeries. Who the fuck were they?!! Why were there? _Who cares?_ he thought. _You know what, Laguna? It wasn't the faeries at all that were making you do all those warrior-type things. Sure, they helped. But _you_ did it, Laguna. You did all that bravery yourself. And you have the strength to cover your wounds now and exact the finishing blow._ "Damn right." He heard his friends ask him "What?" but he didn't pay them heed. He was their leader, and he knew what the hell to do.

Adel's eyes turned almost white with fury, and she lunged to strike, but Laguna struck first. He dropped the launcher, grabbed a sword from a resistance member, and leapt up to Adel herself. How he did that... no one could explain. He soared to her and crushed into her body with the sword penetrating into her lung and protruding out the middle of her back. Her eyes fluttered open in shock, and they both crashed to the earth, her head partially splitting open and he losing consciousness. The Sorceress gave a weak, gasping gurgle and writhed in immense pain. The resistance swarmed her and suppressed her down with whatever they could obtain. She fought vainly to pry them off of her, but the sword dug in deeper and she relented.

The Sorceress was defeated.

Kiros and Ward found Laguna in the pile and dug him out. They spent several minutes struggling to get him awake, but he wouldn't wake. Kiros worked his mouth in a cursing fit, and Ward kept shaking his head for several minutes. Haydyn and his crew paced back and forth in vain and desperation. The Sorceress sunk into a bitter shame and started to weep in fury.

It was another few minutes when Laguna finally burped up blood and fluttered his eyes open.

"Laguna, you sick sonofabitch!" Kiros shouted.

"Heh....th-that's me..." he answered weakly.

"Laguna?" Haydyn asked.

"Yeah....w-we wo-won..."

"We did. We sure did."

"Laguna, don't die on us, man," Ward snapped, tears starting to stream.

"Damn fucking right, don't die on us man!!" Kiros yelled.

The resistance members watched intently. The sky team quickly funneled down to the streets. The whole city of Esthar became one of silence, and the succubus's denizens left in droves to hide and self-consume into oblivion. Adel, while the resistance mourned, resorted into deep psychological thought. Somewhere in the future, her mistress Ultimecia was very pissed.

"Laguna, don't die on me!!" Kiros was yelling, but his voice was dying away from Laguna's surroundings. Everything was turning brighter than normal, and everything felt lighter than normal, too. It was like being high, except he had not taken any drugs yet.

He looked at both his old friends and his new friends with a sincere and warm smile on his face. "Today is the beginning of a new day, no matter what happens!! You...all...n-now have the power to make things...right. Never forget w-what happened. Always... look out for each other. Don't just...hope for the best. _Do_ the best. That's why I fought for you!"

He waited until they all smiled and nodded their heads. Then he closed his eyes and felt happy to get some long-needed rest.

**Second A/N:** Laguna's speech is reminiscent of the speech given by Queen Elizabeth I on the eve of the battle with King Philip of Spain when his almighty Armada was defeated by her relatively smaller naval forces.


	31. Silence and Motion

**Author's Note:** I'm back. Truth be told, I had a severe writer's block with trying to capture Esthar in a way that allows readers to understand the city's importance in relation to Squall's story. I apologize for the lateness, and I hope that this cures the gap in between the chapters.

Happy readings, ACJ

SILENCE AND MOTION

The incredible noise caused Seifer Almasy to burp up his brandy, making it taste slightly better than it had when it went down. A whole assortment of lights and flashes were happening all around him, and each of the radars within Lunatic Pandora were going haywire. The entire bulk of the Super Guard, comprising all the impressed Galbadian and Delinger citizenry as well as the capture Dolletians, were hovering in the bottom floors in fear.

"What in the name of blue fuck is going on here?" he yelled at Raijin, who was clutching his quarterstaff tightly.

"ESTHAR!" Fujin answered for him, pointing at the closest radar.

"I am afraid she's right, sir Knight," rose up the voice of the Guard's leader and Deling City's newly-installed dictator, Premier Oliver Whigham. Whigham had kept his complacency throughout the events and had secretly relished in putting a lethal wound to the late Rafael Carroway. He was willing to lead his corps straight into Esthar to conquer it as well, but upon looking at the imagery glossing over each of the radars he correctly had to backtrack on that idea. "Sir, we might have a little trouble on our hands--"

"--Outta the way, man," Seifer said, pushing him aside to get a look at the screens. When he did, he couldn't help himself. "Holy motherfucking shit!!"

All the screens showed images of the eastern continent, and a very large blue field was forming up from the center outwards. It was like a puddle dripping out on the sides making its way gradually down the decline of the slope. The eastern continent was amoeba-shaped anyway, and there were many inlets and fjords dotting its edges. There were mountains to the north and large patches of forests that connected to the Trabian continent, and the blue field stopped at the base of the mountains. The field ran all the way south to a large nest of fjords and a very large lake. It ran westward to the Central Ocean and eastward until a large patch of orange desert and then stopped. Lights flickered all around, millions of them in a spiderweb appearance. Buildings arose, criss-crossed by superhighways, and dotted all the blue expanse. It was impossible to count them all.

Seifer's weight depressed upon viewing the imagery, and he had to support himself on protruding safety bars atop the railing he was on. He let out a long, disgruntled sigh.

"Oh, what?" Whigham said, mockingly. "The famed Knight of Sorceresses is exasperated?"

Fujin and Raijin sucked in breath at the discourse, but Seifer remained in his repose.

"Sir Seifer, we are looking at a city that stretches for miles and miles in all directions. We're looking at maybe thirty million people here. Readings off our charts here," as he produced a few sheets of running paper from a fax machine, "detail that there is a million-strong naval force alone along with about three to six million-strong army and air corps. They've got Ultima bombs, Ultima missiles, liquid inflammatories and all other sorts of shit I can't even pronounce!"

"They don't have a Sorceress, do they?" Seifer asked, calmly.

Whigham slowly put down the papers. "Beg your pardon, sir?"

"I said, 'They don't have a Sorceress, do they'?"

"All the Sorceresses of this world are dead, sir. I'm not even sure why I'm calling you 'Sir', too. Imagine. Me, a fifty-year old man, taking orders from a psychotic eighteen year old."

Raijin pulled Fujin close to him. "This guy's walking a fine line, ya know?" to which she giggled softly at.

"I like to see you say that to Ultimecia, Whig," Seifer chuckled.

"Ultimecia, Ultimecia, Ultimecia. That's all I ever hear from you. Where is this cunt at, anyway?!!"

"Well, she's about a couple thousand years into the future--"

"--I know that. Anything _else_ you want to tell me?"

"Other than the fact that you'll be losing your dick in two seconds if you don't shut the fuck up this instant and start respecting people in charge over you?"

Whigham wanted to fight, but the eyes were too damn blue and Seifer's skin seemed to glow with a hidden malice. The Premier backed off and resorted to malicious thoughts of his own.

"We actually _do_ have a Sorceress alive today."

"Who?"

"You never bothered to read history, did you?"

"Never."

"Sorceress Adel. These Estharians are safeguarding her up in space... but not for long."

"Adel's dead, I thought."

"Thought wrong. She's merely in hibernation. She was thought to have died eighteen years ago by the hand of a rebel leader, but she survived it. They were able to blast her into space, and they've been monitoring her ever since."

"So they _do_ have a Sorceress?"

"Of course they do."

"But you said earlier that they didn't."

"Only to test your knowledge of your clear lack of intelligence, Mr. Whigham."

The Premier grunted angrily.

"We're getting her down."

"How?" Whigham asked.

"I don't know."

"Great Eden."

"Eden has no part in this. Neither does Hyne. Ultimecia told me she would get her servant down to this earth, and that's all I care about."

"Sorceresses are not trustworthy."

"And _you_ are?"

"100% over those witches. Everyone knows that."

"That's why I don't listen to everyone."

The Premier sighed. "Sir, if I may suggest, while we are waiting for this miracle of yours to happen, we should hit these greenies with as much velocity as we can. No matter the costs. We may be outnumbered three to one, but if Squall could do it--"

"Fuck Squall, _you _let me deal with him." He thought a bit. "Your idea intrigues me, though. Go ahead."

"We need the Super Guard to hit them on the western side. Papers coming out say that all the military bulk is on the east and southern sides. It'll take them a bit to reach us, unless every citizen owns a gun."

"That's a bad plan with good intentions."

"The fuck does that mean?"

"You use the Super Guard to weaken their defenses and terrorize the civilian population, but you do not take the city."

"What?" The Premier cried out, shocked as all hell. "That is deplorable, sir!!"

"Go fuck yourself. We're heading to Tear's Pointe."

"Tear's Pointe!!! Goddamit, I am tired of this shit. We need to destroy this city, not sightsee."

"The city will be destroyed!!" Seifer glared at Whigham.

The Premier blinked his eyes.

"Just not right away. Tear's Pointe is where Adel will land, and all her accompanying party."

"She's not coming alone?"

"Oh no. There will be a whole slew of other denizens. Too many to list at this time."

"Then.... okay... that's cool. That'll work, and then we can destroy the city."

"No. Not even with that, we'd never succeed."

"What?" The Premier cried out, shocked as all hell. "That is even more deplorable, sir!!"

Seifer pulled out his empty brandy bottle. "I am gonna cut your face with this, Whigham! You really underestimate Squall that much?"

"I hate that little bastard."

"This is where the Guard come in, but they are gonna be quite different at this point."

"What do you mean?"

"In this vessel there is a large assortment of Ultima gems, infused with some powerful succubus energy. Of all the Dolletians, Galbadians and Delingers we have you pick the strongest and most athletic to become part of the 'Lunatization' process. The weaker and more arithmatically-gifted citizenry shall be used as either fodder or as a logistical unit."

"Lunatization?"

"We shall call it the Lunatic Squad. Get your viable specimens and inject large quantities of that Ultima juice in them. Raijin has already tested it on one sample." He snapped his fingers at Raijin and the burly man reluctantly left and then came back with a most wretched youth. It had once been a teenager from the Kelso province of Galbadia. His skin had been melted off with his bones and muscles dripping out. His eyes and tongue had been carved out, and his body had been bleached and melted into a waxy coating. Knives had been plunged into his elbows, and he made quick and agile jerks and motions as Raijin led his cuffed frame over for inspection by Whigham. The former boy made shrieking sounds that pierced the ears and sounded like a hundred cattle suffering in a stockyard. "Show him, Raijin," Seifer grinned.

Raijin ordered a frail Dolletian brought forward and then let loose the Lunatic. The former Kelso native smelled the Dolletian's blood and pounced on him, ripping swift chunks in the boy. The boy suffered a slow and agonizing death, before Seifer ended both of their lives with two blasts from his Hyperion.

"Son of a bitch," Whigham said bleakly. Fujin went to throw up, while Raijin held it in as best as he could while cleaning up the corpses.

"The Lunatic Squad will be good scavengers and great frontlinesmen when the invasion starts. However, with two million people in here, the process will take an incredibly long time." The Knight walked slowly up right into Whigham's face, making the Premier very uncomfortable. "I suggest you get on to it."

"Y-Yes sir."

* * *

The force of the flashback was a bit violent in the upswell. Squall and the others lashed out in a loud cry awake, and they were covered in sweat. Edea and Milena looked in shock at them and were too stunned to say any words.

"Sir Laguna can't be dead!!" Selphie shouted, awash in tears.

"That was _too_ vivid!" Quistis remarked.

"But bad-ass!!" Zell said.

"Indeed, very bad-ass," Irvine agreed, almost giggling. "Zell, did you see him after he blow that Giant bitch up with a rocket launcher?!!"

"Dude yeah, how did he _jump_ that high!!"

Mila looked at Edea in confusion, but the former Sorceress could offer no solace.

Squall felt very uncomfortable, and he said nothing, drawing more confused looks his way. Finally, he stood up and gathered up Rinoa in his arms and onto his back, while her dog whimpered a bit beside him. "We've stalled too long." He made an agitated grunt when a loud sound of greasing machinery alerted their attention.

"Noises have been happening now for the past ten minutes," Mila noted.

"They know we're here," Squall said woodenly.

The others didn't like that observation, and they liked less the gates opening up ahead of them. A shaft of light and a buzz of activity met their eyes and ears, and for a moment after the brightness dimmed they could make out the throes of a bustling city. A vehicle of magnificent design was edging towards them, a convertible-style car with one occupant. He was a middle-aged man in bright blue and white flowing robes, and he had a blue beret on his head. He pulled the car up alongside the group and got out cheerfully.

"Welcome to Esthar, I trust you all are not part of the Super Guard."

"Indeed, we are not," Edea responded, reaching forward to shake his hand. "Edea Kramer."

"Ah, Miss Kramer, it is a pleasure to have the former Sorceress back in her stable body once more." The official gladly shook her hand. "I'm Don Wise, the President's current PR spokesman. I've been asked to address the newcomers whom my superiors spotted traipsing across the Great Salt Lake so waywardly a few hours ago."

Squall and his friends shifted their weight from one foot to the other and looked dishelved.

"There's trouble a-brewing, our scientists can feel it," Wise said, his face becoming momentarily grim.

"What do you mean?" Edea asked.

"We're not sure. An incredibly strong aura is penetrating near Fisherman's Horizon. We've lost track of the Super Guard, too. It is a shame that all our peaceful contacts are destroyed in Trabia, Dollet and Deling City."

"It seems you've got plenty of people here, Mr. Wise."

Wise flicked his tongue inside his mouth. "I... don't think that may be enough."

"Something you're not telling us?" Irvine asked.

"Something that should have stayed buried a long time ago," Wise replied.

Squall grunted. "I need to see Ellone, if you please."

The others started, and Edea looked like she just swallowed a lemon. Wise blinked. "Ellone?"

"A dire emergency."

Wise seemed to realize the young man meant the woman on his back. "Ellone, yes. Of course you can see her, but... you might want to see the city first."

"We can see it later."

"I think you might be sidetracked first." Wise addressed them all with a full sweep of his arm and got into the car. "The car fits more than you think, my friends."

They were surprised that it did. They each got in, and Angelo curled in between Squall and Selphie's feet, and the car took off.

"I should warn you," Wise chuckled, "the contents within this city have not been seen by outsiders in sixteen years. Those who get the pretty penny chance of seeing have been known to gawk and drool out of the corner of their mouth."

They thought that stupid... but only for fifteen seconds.

The car sped out the aircraft building and entered the main stretch of highway. Skyscrapers carved expertly and creatively out of ancient fossil materials loomed everywhere and lined every street. Each ranged from thirty to a hundred stories tall, and each were interconnected by red, yellow or green tubes with hundreds of people walking through each one. Highways were stacked between the buildings, with cars and carrier trucks hauling across it. Banks, groceries, lawyer's offices, and more could be seen amid colorful billboards of advertisements and succor. Two large universities passed them by next to a large sports stadium. A fifteen-story shopping mall was built adjacent to the stadium. Everywhere in parks, on the sidewalks, on the streets, within the colored tubes there were people, robotic creatures, Moombas and weird bear animals with red poof balls suspended above their heads walking around, conversing, shopping or stealing from one another. There was literally a million people doing something all around them, and all the while traffic moved. There was a hefty mix of good and bad behavior happening around them and plenty of police force taking care of the bad as well as harassing the good for no apparant reason whatsoever.

Selphie was ecstatic, constantly badgering, squealing and drooling out the side of her mouth. She pestered Irvine with playful jabs in his ribs and trying to get him from not noticing the large number of pretty women walking around. There were many top-heavy specimens that kept attracting his eye. Zell stupidly stared at every skyscraper that passed and kept repeating the remark, "We never had _that_ at Garden." Mila wanted to shut him up, but the buildings attracted her attention, too. Quistis and Squall were the only ones quiet, but she was petting Angelo behind the ears and remaining mesmerized while he enjoyed the view but retained his usual Squall-ness about all facets of life in general. Edea had been one of the lucky ones to get a "pretty-penny chance" at seeing the city, but even she was dumbstruck at how much it had changed since she had last been here. "Amazing," she breathed.

"Isn't it?" Wise asked. "I never get tired of seeing this place."

"Wo---ow!!" Selphie cooed, as a military aircraft flew overhead. It was a sparkling radiance of ruby and topaz colors, and it left a plume in the sky. The car traffic on each of the freeways and down below on the regular streets were steady, despite a few sporadic wrecks or police-stopped speeders.

"This is Higgin's Highway, named after the main militant arm of the Adel Resistance. Every year on the twentieth of August, we Estharians celebrate his memory as well as commemorate the founding ceremony of the first defeat of Adel. Of course, it wouldn't have been completed if it hadn't been for that man right there!" Wise pointed to a large golden statue about five blocks to the north of them. The statue was of Laguna, and it rested on a large platform in front of a very tall building-- presumably the tallest in the city. "Mr. Laguna Loire, the Resistance's charming, if ignorant, leader. The statue is pure gold and stands twenty feet high."

"What happened to Sir Laguna?" Selphie asked.

"_Sir_ Laguna? Heh, nice touch."

"Did he die?" Zell asked, bluntly.

"Die?" Wise asked in an outburst. Then, he thought a bit and then shook his head. "No, he didn't die. He... receded into the background... and let politics play itself out."

The group looked at each other, not buying it.

"What's that building?" Squall asked, pointing to the magnificent diamond-shaped structure behind Laguna's statue.

"That is the Presidential Palace. 150 stories tall. Home to all the embassies of the world, as well as a functioning homeless shelter. The Palace holds all five hundred members of the House of Representatives and all one hundred members of the Senate. The governors of the fifty districts of Esthar also reside here. The President of Esthar has established a remarkable goodwill with most of the district leaders... I think it's somewhere around forty-five of them...which is quite remarkable for such a nuanced man to fulfill. The other five are known to be large crime areas, and we've been having trouble trying to corral them together. However, in the President's three terms thus far, not a single instance of civil unrest has broken out, and his approval rating hovers between 75 and 80% annually."

"What is the President's name?" Squall asked.

"All in due time. He is actually away from the city right now.. on a lunar visit in our spacestation. However, he has been wanting to see our visitors--which is you by the way. All in due time."

Squall shook his head in frustration-- that didn't make any sense at all.

"Oh, I wish I'd live here," Selphie cooed again.

"Me too," Quistis said.

"There is _plenty_ to do here," Wise remarked. His attention was diverted briefly by a squad of cop cars pulling over a few gang lords causing trouble a few streets below them. "And plenty of things to get in trouble with," he chuckled.

"This is too much," Mila said, her eyes darting from place to place.

"Well," Wise replied, "the city itself has about 12 million people. There are six large boroughs on the outer rims that hold roughly 3 million people a piece. There are ten large public airstations to take across this city, which is a good 1500 square miles and it still has room to grow."

"Are you worried about overpopulation?" Irvine asked.

"Not at all. I mean, eventually yes, but Esthar has been blessed by the gods to have such rich and bountiful minimals and resources. Plenty of energy within these sands to power all these facilities, plenty of minerals to trade on the market and plenty of crops to satisfy millions of people a year. We use rotation farming as well to allow the fields to cultivate and renew and come back more plentiful as the years progress. The city's pollution is kept at a minimum, because of the harvested sorceress energy Adel had left for us. She didn't know it, but her essence and her minion's essence had fertilized the earth to a prime degree, and our scientists had seen it be utilized in a good fashion." The PR spokesman waved his hand around the city, as the Presidential Palace loomed closer into view. "Much of the one million-strong police force you see around here came from the original resistance movement."

"One million strong?!" Quistis asked.

"We pride in having a militant-minded society. Almost everyone owns a gun or a sword or some type of weapon." He looked over at Squall. "You'll find the bulk of the world's gunblades here, sir."

Squall raised his eyebrows.

"In fact," Wise explained, "much of the world's weaponry and engineering tools are made here and exported out to the Shumi tribes or to Fisherman's Horizon, where the rest of the world then collects at a premium price. Esthar gets a cut off the profits and is able to finance itself that way, instead of allowing markets directly into the city."

"Why have you all been closed off all this time?" Squall asked.

Edea chuckled a bit and even more so at Squall's perplexed expression. "I am afraid it was because of me for some part of it."

"Indeed it was. Miss Edea here was the world's sole living Sorceress of the time, and our city here has had enough of such things. Really, we keep a mighty accurate tab on the world's news and politics. We've known all about you, Squall, and your team on Balamb Garden from the moment you entered SeeD."

Squall looked around at his group, and they seemed just as confused as he was.

"Excellent work over on Centra. The President was mighty pleased at your skills at leading people into battle. He was most impressed."

"Pardon me, Mr. Wise," Edea said.

"Oh please, Miss Edea, call me Don. The Wise part gets overused too much at work," he said with a chuckle.

"Very well, Don, I have a request."

"Anything."

"I wish to speak with Odine. I feel he can help us out."

"Of course, Edea. He's been expecting you."

Edea raised her eyebrows. "You all really do see around the world, do you?"

"More than you think."

The convertible cruised along Higgin's Highway around the enormous trough of traffic and into the forty-story parking garage. Wise entered a special chamber and hit some buttons on a panel. Lights flushed on around them, and succubus energy shifted from one wall to the other, and the elevator shot up gently to the top floor. Wise steered the car toward an empty parking space, and the group got out.

"Ah, the Presidential Palace," Don Wise said with a beaming sigh. Assistants of his were already there to meet them at the massive western entrance. "Below us," he gestured to the group, "is the living quarters for all our members of Congress. Above here on the 41st to 60th floors is where the embassies lay. Above that up to the 100th floor is where the bankers, investors and other money-men work at. From that to the 125th floor is where the military headquarters is, and where all our operations specialists work at. The highest floors are where the richest people live at as well as the President and his aides reside. It's a busy facility at all hours of the day. Odine works in the President's floors, so that's where we will go."

The group barely nodded, for their eyes were being distracted by the sheer size and scope of the building. The look had all the markings of Adel's timeframe, mixed with hints of Shumi facade and Centra architecture. The architecture was bright orange and yellow with sharp hints of green and purple trimming. Statues at the top of the Palace contained the image of Bahamut.

Don saw their eyes fixated on the statues. "Bahamut is our chief deity the Estharians worship. Other GFs include Pandemona, Eden and Leviathan."

"Are all the citizens religious-minded?" Quistis asked.

"It's about 50-50. Most people here in this facility are not, and most of the boroughs are not. One borough, the Dagobas borough, is almost exclusively devoted to Bahamut-worship. As well, Dagobas is kind of a tough area within the city. It causes us problems almost every day."

"What kind?"

"Hard crime problems. There is a strong militant swing among several of the chieftans and Congressional members there. A bit of pain in the ass sometimes, but the President handles things pretty good there."

They entered the Palace and realized that Don had made an understatement. The floors were packed with people in business suits, casual wear, handcuffed and being led off by police, military suits and other assortments. Everybody was either conducting business or milling about. The elevators were much more sophisticated and energy-efficient compared to Galbadia City or Deling City. The group stepped on one in the middle of the hallway, and Don mentioned "145" and the rig lit up purple and shot gently up. They all gazed in wonder at each floor that left them by and at all the people working or fooling around. The embassies were loaded with top-heavy brass and familiar important faces from the western and southern continents. The bankers and investors were busy moving huge sums of money from one account to the next. The military wings were the most intricate with high-tech equipment that made the Garden's equipment look childish in comparison. Finally, the floors became more formulaic, and the elevator stopped at the 145th floor, the "Scientist Wing".

A rosy-faced aide greeted them with a smile. "Welcome, Edea Kramer," she said, "come this way, come this way." She led them down the hall and into a large room that functioned as an observatory and specimen lab. The group got comfortable, and Squall found a sofa to place Rinoa down on. Angelo stayed with her, and Squall made considerable time to pop every muscle in his back.

"What's the situation, Edea?" Don asked.

"I want Odine's help in ridding my powers for good," the former Sorceress said. "I wish to be free of Ultimecia's control once and for all."

"That is a very good request," Don said nodding his head.

"I feel that at any moment she could repossess my body, and I wouldn't even know it."

Squall and his group nodded solemnly, and Don scratched his chin.

Suddenly, a door opened behind them all and a very sickening laugh echoed out. "Ho ho... zat vould be eazy! Ho ho!!"

_Oh shit_, Squall thought. _He _still_ hasn't changed._

The doctor himself appeared, looking just as old as he did in the dream sequence. He still wore the same blue-and-purple outfit with the guady red frilling around the collar. He had cut his hair shorter and gelled the length of it into a fine point that stuck out on the top of his head. His eyebrows were bushier, and he had a thin scar on the side of his cheek (_probably where Laguna nicked him_, Squall mused).

"Ah..." Odine sighed, chuckling a bit and wringing his hands together, "we just exorceze ze Sorceress. Zhere eez nothing Odine cannot do, hehe."

Selphie looked ready to puke at the doctor's behavior, and Irvine was having a hard time not touching the holster on his gun. Zell kept Mila close, because the doc kept focusing too much attention on her. Quistis was just amused.

Don slowly shook his head. Odine was getting out of it again. Edea thought a second then said, "I leave everything into your hands then. This needs to get done."

Don looked at Squall. "You said you wanted to see Ellone?"

"Eellone?" Odine asked, mighty curiously.

Squall glared at him and then answered, "Where is she?" He pointed to Rinoa. "I need to take her to see her. It's the only thing I have on my mind right now."

The doctor gave a snide look. "Awww... ze young laddie has his mind all kerfunkled."

Squall's eyes glared bright blue.

"We need to see Ellone now," he seethed, walking toward Odine.

"Hmmm? You act like you're teeking Odine hostage. How seely of you, hehe."

"I'd rather put a bullet in his head," Irvine muttered to Selphie, who giggled at that.

"Listen, doctor," Squall said as calmly as he could, "we need to see Ellone, and we need to see her right now. Just take me to her."

Don exchanged a look with Edea, but she signalled a look to him that said it was to be expected.

Odine looked Squall up and down and then shrugged his shoulders. "Vhatever. Permission is granted."

Don nodded. "All in due time, Squall. She happens to be in space with the President at this moment."

"In space?" Squall asked, with the most amusing albiet perplexed expression on his face that Selphie and Quistis burst out laughing.

"Hey, hey, ladies," Irvine chuckled, "Squallie here is gonna wail on ya if ya continue."

This made them laugh even harder, and Squall turned beat red. A first in a large crowd.

Don laughed as well, along with Edea. "She provides the President with information. The President likes to learn about new things, and she ends up telling him various things that are happening around the world at any given time. They work as a close confidant team, and she's always with him everywhere he goes."

Squall seemed to collapse. _Just once... just once..._ He couldn't finish the thought.

"Amuzing... amuzing.." Odine chuckled. His attention left Milena and manuevered over to the other pretty girl, Rinoa. Here it stayed longer, and he felt a little funny inside as he walked over to the sofa. Squall watched him every step of the way and subconciously fingered the helm of the Punishment. "One condeetion, Meester Squall."

"What?" he replied forcefully.

"You let me observe thees girl." Just with one cursory glance, his mind arrived at a conclusion. His bushy eyebrows raised to their max, and he seemed to know what was causing her illness. "Yesh... let me observe her."

"What the fu--"

"Whoa, Squall," Irvine started.

"Yeah," Zell said, "it's just a checkup."

Squall had half a mind to slice _them_ up.

"It'll be alright," Don said. "It'll take about five hours to prepare everything over at the Lunar Gate."

"Where's that?" Edea asked.

"Over on the Outer Rim, a mile east of the Dagobas borough. We'll transport Rinoa over there ourselves, and Squall and another person can ride with her on one of our shuttles to the space station. Ellone and the President are on that space station, and you can talk with them there. It'll take five hours to transport her, run a few tests on her and then gear up the shuttle to take you all there."

"Three people only?"

"That's all there's room for. We could send up more shuttles, but I can see Mr. Squall is in an impatient mood," he said with a chuckle.

Squall didn't really hear, he was too concentrated on the doctor's roaming eyes. Angelo was feeling the same way, and he gave low growls at the doctor's bad taste of clothing.

"So you vill leave the girl vith us theen?" Odine said to Squall with a slight gleam in his eye.

Squall knew right away that the doctor had figure out Rinoa's problem, but he was growing exhausted with the whole process. It didn't help to have Edea come over to him and whisper that the process was "of course" okay. He grunted and nodded his head.

"Good!!" Odine bellowed. "Now get out and let me do my job."

"You sonofa--"

"Enough, Squall," Edea chuckled in his ear and then jabbed him in the side.

"Squall," Don said, "it's a ten-minute trip to Dagobas by car and a half-hour trip across the rugged terrain by car to the Lunar Gate. Once you're there at the Gate, you can just board on. In the meantime, have fun in the city for a few hours. Granted, that's not near enough time to enjoy the city--"

"--Un--der--statement!!" Selphie giggled.

Don chuckled. "Indeed. Go to the shopping mall. Some of you could use some upgraded weapons."

Zell hit his fists together. "_These_ are my weapons."

"Don't do that, baby," Mila said.

"Thank you," Irvine said.

Squall pointed a finger at Odine. "Don't try anything funny with her, doc."

Odine chuckled nervously and then eschewed Rinoa away. Squall grunted furiously and followed his companions out of the Palace.

* * *

"Wo-------ow!!!" Selphie cooed.

The shopping mall was tremendous in size, and hundreds of thousands of people milled about. Each floor had varying degrees of shoppes all surrounding a large food court and amusement park. The park had three water slides, a roller coaster, a bungee jump platform and dozens of carnival games. The food court had each world country's menu up for purchase. The floor the group was on contained a weapons store, a magic store, an item store, a pet store, a book store, a music store, an adult store and various other knick-knack stores. Irvine was heading for the adult store, when Selphie physically pulled him away and headed into the magic store to stock up on orbs. Edea and Quistis went to get some books, and Zell and Mila went to the food court. Squall had Angelo with him, and he was having a hard time keeping the mutt from sniffing oither dog's butts. There were plenty of four-legged beasts walking around, and Angelo just couldn't help himself. Squall's mind was lost in thought, and he rummaged around the item store buying a few health potions and rememdy vials. He had a feeling he would need these soon enough. The bank balance on his SeeD account had remained steady at 95,000 gil, and he was looking forward to a new amount being secured by his Level 30 status as Commander. Rinoa was still on his mind, so he couldn't appreciate the finer things in life.

Selphie loaded up on all the elementals, and Irvine got all the support. He then stopped dead in his tracks and started drooling. Selphie was about to smack him, but then she noticed it was a gun. A particularly sleek, white gun with a long double barrel and a silver chamber. "What is it?" she asked.

"The Exeter," he breathed, almost panting in pleasure.

"Oh geez," she sighed. "Is there anything you think about other than girls and guns?"

"Sex," he answered innocently.

"That goes with the first one."

"Nah, that goes with myself."

She flinched a bit and walked off, shaking her head. He laughed and checked out the Exeter's scope. A fine piece of weaponry, he thought. The safety button was located at the top of the receiver, so if he was drunk he would have to be a fool to miss it. The action locklever was to the rear of the trigger guard, and the trigger itself had an extra squeeze padding and sensor to immediately shut off if the barrel became disattached. Maintenance was even easier than his Bismarck: one click downwards on the chamber broke it away from the main piece, and each shotgun part could be easily cleaned without the slightest bit of worry. He was most amazed at the ammo, which was silver-tipped shells. The silver was linked with succubus energy and AP dynamite. AP dynamite acted almost like a grenade upon impact on the body, and it created a saucer-sized hole in your enemy. His eyes looked very greedy, and he thought the twenty thousand gil price was an underestimate.

He noticed that Selphie had become distracted (quite an easy feat!) by a piece of weaponry herself. She was almost as awestruck and dumbfounded as he was with his. It was a nunchaku, of course, with alotted slots for magical orbs. The Estharian dealers called it the Strange Vision, and it was indeed strange. It was a three-foot long adamantine coil with two sharp curse spikes on both ends. The curse spikes were fused together by three star fragments each. The star fragments were imbued with AP dynamite and succubus energy, so each impact she would make would unleash a catastrophic punch to the enemy. It was like having two rocket launchers for the price of one. The price was quite hefty, a solid fourteen thousand gil, but she happily swiped her Level 25 card and greedily latched it to her belt. She daintily walked back to her man and didn't seem so concerned about his love affair with his gun.

"Listen, boy boy," she said, "I'm hungry, so buy that damn gun and let's get something to eat."

"Down at the'Y'?" he asked slyly.

"Ha, ha, ha. Bad news for you, they actually have a restaurant here named that."

Irvine craned his neck to look out the window at the food court. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's some kind of Trabian cuisine. Some fatties are working the grill."

"Oh," he said in a low voice, dropping his gaze from the window.

"Oh really, so if _I _was fat, you wouldn't--"

"--Of course I would, deary, of course I would." He hurriedly bought the shotgun and went arm-in-arm with her to the food court, muttering something unintelligible.

As they walked out, Quistis walked in. Edea waited outside, for she didn't really care for weapons too much. Being a Sorceress had pretty much drained her of her tastes for fighting capabilities. She reckoned she still had some moves she could utilize, but she had lost quite the heart and stomach to utilize them. Her mind was absorbed by the book she had bought anyway-- a history of the Estharian kingdom before Adel had surfaced to power-- and she waited for Quistis outside.

The former instructor was literally beside herself. She had never seen a city of this size and magnitude before, and it was almost unsettling for her. And here she thought that the Garden lifestyle was a hectic hangover! There were maybe, what, a few hundred people there and millions here. She had been shaking her head slowly so much, that she wondered if people thought her somewhat odd. Of course there were quite a bit of odd characters running around here: strange robotic creatures with succubus energy powering their limbs, animal-like creatures that acted either feline or canine depending on their gender, ten-foot tall blue alien-like peoples, and humanoids with two heads, as well as the generic human species. The city of Esthar had closed itself off from the rest of the world so much, but it had kept in constant contact economically, politically and socially. Newspapers and magazines were more up-to-date on current events than even Timber Maniacs was. Every foreign policy and domestic fortitude discussed at each of the main power council meetings was discussed in full editorial page within these premises. The book store she and Edea had just departed from was three stories tall and loaded with more books than the library at Deling City. It was such a damn pain that they only had five hours of free time, if that much.

She walked through the aisles of guns, swords, gunblades( and she wondered why Squall wasn't in this aisle) and knives until she came across the bladed whips. Yes, they literally had row upon row of bladed whips. Small ones, large ones, crazily-shaped ones with Susie Q's and Lazy Eyes stuck inside them. Her mind was spinning, but she found one that immediately sucked all of her attention onto it. "Save... the Queen," she read the label slowly. "Ooh... such a nice ring to it." She suddenly had visions of a brave and handsome knight coming to sweep her off her feet, and she almost barfed at that idea. So not her style.

Save the Queen was a simple brown oak holster with a four-foot Malboro tentacle attached to it. The tentacle was strong as iron, and it was bladed with a sharp spike that could cut through metal. The tentacle was also outfitted with four energy crystals that gave the sharp spike four times the brutal impact of a regular bladed whip. It no doubt affected the price, a hefty eighteen thousand gil, but she didn't care. It was so awesome to look at. She scooped it up, paid for it, and rushed out to meet a surprised Edea.

"_That_ looks like it could hurt," she said.

Quistis fingered the energy crystals. "_My_ kind of weapon."

Edea smiled. "You always were attracted to the quaint and simple looks that dealt a hefty punishment to those who weren't paying attention."

Quistis smiled at that and sat down next to her. For a while, they did nothing but people-watching. Esthar was mostly a happening place where people conducted business politely and efficiently, but there were always bad apples. To alleivate that, there was always a hefty force of police and greenie soldiers running around to control it. The two women saw three instances almost in a row of two shoplifters and one guy holding up somebody with a knife. One of the shoplifters was brutally suppressed by the person he shoplifted, and the other two were almost immediately nabbed by the cops.

"I'm getting dizzy just being here," Quistis sighed.

"It takes quite a getting used to," Edea agreed.

"Esthar was really closed off all these years.... because of you?"

"Yes and no. Donald there was sort of exaggerating a bit. In truth, I didn't get fully integrated into my powers until over a decade after Adel was vanquished and jettisoned into space. The people of Esthar quickly metastisized after the resistance cordoned Adel over at Tear's Pointe, and they quickly elected a man to become the city's first President. Almost immediately after that, they divided the city to-- at that time-- thirteen districts with two Senators a piece and ten Congressmen a piece. About a week or two later, they realized that they wanted to expand and explore the earth around them a bit. Really, Quisty, the decision to remain mysterious was primarily an economic worry."

Quistis looked at Edea curiously. "Really? An economic worry?"

"Yes. This continent is rich, rich, rich. In soil, in energy, in food. I guess... there is some truth to the Guardian Forces after all."

"What do you mean?"

"Bahamut lives here. The modern-day Estharians didn't realize it until a year after expelling Adel. The wyvern Himself appeared out of his cave and wondered why the sorceress energy wasn't filtering as much into the earth as it had done. He noticed that Adel was gone and he was about to fry the people of Esthar as a result of it. Strangely, though, the President was as charismatic with creatures as he was with people, and his compromise with Bahamut earned him a second term as President. The Estharians took pains to keep Esthar a secret location on the world map so that they could learn from Bahamut how to properly harvest the earth of its minerals and resources. By doing so, the city grew exponentially from seven million at the start to over thirty million today. The President has thus earned a third term by controlling the growth of the city. In doing that, he established boroughs, five in total, and dispersed the population out in key clusters on movable discs. That way, like crop rotation in this city's farming capability, the human population does not abuse the earth too much."

"That is very odd, but fascinating all the more."

"Isn't it? Most governments around the world had an inkling about how this city worked, but they didn't know the fullest extent. I am quite curious now, because now the city has been revealed."

Quistis gasped. "You're right. Will that cause problems?"

"I'm sure it will. I want to know personally why the President did that. It kind of burns me that he's up in space at a time like this. Burns me more that Squall only wants to send one shuttle up there to see him, too."

Quistis muttered. "That's what Rinoa does to people."

Edea lightly hit her shoulder. "Oh, don't pick on her now."

"I'm not picking on her."

"Well, don't let your cheeks get so flushed," Edea giggled.

Quistis sat bolt upright. "My cheeks aren't flushed."

"You look like a tomato."

"Matron!"

Edea continued to giggle, and Quistis slowly began to as well.

Way down on the other side of the mall, Zell and Mila were drying off from the log flume they had just rode. She was alright, but he was soaked to the brim. "Damn rides. Defective, I say!"

"Of course they are, honey," she laughed, handing him a towel from a nearby vendor.

He rubbed it all over his face, and made a raspberry at her.

"This is such a cool city," she said, looking all around the mall. Part of the area they were at had a glass ceiling that revealed a large portion of the city for viewing. One highway stretched across the view, and air speeders, motor cars and truckers were hauling back and forth. Down below it, sidewalks were crowded with people, and above it in brightly colored tubes were taxi saucers that carried people to and fro to wherever they cared to be. Both of them became sucked into an ice cream vendor, and Zell bought two cones and they went to sit at a bench.

"Ya telling me. Sucks to just take a quick glane at it, though."

"Yeah, hopefully we can come back here soon and check out more of it. I'd like to see a ballgame over at that stadium."

"A ballgame? How boring."

"Oh?" she asked him, "where would _you_ like to go then?"

Zell thought and then looked at her slyly.

"Oh geez, you are so silly."

"Hey, it's been a while."

"It's been a week."

"Shit. It's been a lifetime," he joked.

She smiled and shook her head. "What do you think is wrong with Rinoa?"

"She's konked out."

"Uh, duh."

"She's taking a nap, pretty much."

"Taking a nap that she can't wake up from."

"I bet she's dreaming of Squall." Zell snickered, as he put an arm around her and quickly ate the bottom of the cone

"A prince and his princess. Kinda wish the prince wasn't such an asshole sometimes."

"Girl, you are _so_ behind on the curve right now."

"Wasn't he your roommate at one time?"

"Yup, for like eight years, until we became SeeD. Seifer was our roommate at one point, too."

"The guy that became Edea's Knight?"

"That's the one."

"Whew," she shivered. "How'd you survive?"

"What? With Seifer?"

"With both."

"Ah, Squall's not that bad. He's easy to read."

"Easy to read, but hard to like. Rinoa must see something in him that I never did. I mean, he rescued us during the Garden faction strifes, but he had his head up his ass for so long."

"I think she's changed him a bit, though. Plus....hmph.. I dunno. I think he _wants_ to change, but just like me and the others, he didn't have a mother and father that lived to see him grow up. I think that kinda affected him more than us."

Mila thought about that and then looked off into the city. She had always had her parents until she was fifteen. While at Balamb, a sailing accident tore her father's body in half. Three months later, her mother suffered a fatal heart attack. At the time, she was so distraught and out of it that not even the razor blade she had held to her wrist gave her the spirit to slit with. Somehow, she had stomached the pain and moved on. That she felt was what Squall must be doing, and his stubbornness and coldness were only those effects leaking off from not having any parents for the bulk of his life. "He is... pretty strong."

Zell nodded. "Who's stronger? Me or him?"

She hit him upside the head. "You, of course."

His tongue stuck to the inside of his cheek, and he nodded in agreement, knowing how stupid that sounded. _He_ better than _Squall_? Only in Dreamland, of course.

"Who's better? Him or Seifer?"

Mila raised her eyebrows. "I don't know, but I wouldn't want to see them fight again."

"You and me both. Although, I don't think they will. I think Seifer may actually be dead this time."

"I wonder where he went."

"I know. It sucks. All the times he made my life miserable, and I don't get the pleasure of beating his glass jaw."

"Baby, let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Gotcha, Mila, gotcha."

Squall was up a floor above everyone else, with Angelo by his faithful side. Really, he was both Rinoa's dog and his dog. He never really had a dog, or a cat, or a fish, or a ferret.... or anything. It felt kind of good to have a furry creature running along beside him all the time. He found himself subconciously rubbing his ears as he looked out at Zell and Milena eating cones and talking with each other, Selphie and Irvine playing carnival games and Edea and Quistis reading books together. He hadn't done much except rub Angelo and think about Rinoa. Always thinking about Rinoa.

He did **not** like that filthy fucking doctor "observing" her. "What the fuck kind of research is that?" he said, unexpectedly loud.

He noticed some people around him look at him scornfully for his language. He acknowledged an apology to them and lowered his voice to Angelo. "Didn't mean to say that."

The dog shook his head and resumed panting.

The Commander had a small chuckle and then start to remember Rinoa again. He sounded like such a teenager, pining away at a love that he couldn't fully explain and for a love that was almost as dead as a doornail. Her skin was cold and almost blue, her pulse was ever so slight, and she just could not wake the fuck up.

He checked his watch. An hour left of play, an hour too much in his book.

He rubbed Angelo's ear. "It's time to go, boy."

* * *

The rest of his team had not been too eager to leave early, but Squall had drowned their inquiries out. Angelo had helped with a few controlling barks of his own, and they all were in a car heading through the Dagobas borough and heading for the westernmost exit gates to the Outer Edge.

They noticed a gradual reduction in the quality of the city as the Dagobas borough and district consumed them from the main city. As well, numerous shrines of the dark deity Bahamut loomed everywhere as well as smaller shrines of Eden. Crime seemed rampant here, as various government buildings and schools were vandalized with gang symbols and there were motley people roaming around in distinctly-colored garbs. They passed at least two shooting sprees, one dealing with gang-on-gang and the other with robbers and police, before a docking station loomed in front of them. A massive military airstation was nearby, and they saw a fighter jet coasting into the takeoff section, as another one was coming in from the southside of the city. The planes were doing regular reconnaisance missions, and as the car's driver had said earlier target practice for preparation against a possible skirmish with a southernmost continental city. Esthar had regular quarrels with Shaft, a mining town near the southern tip-- the land of the two-headed people. There had been three small wars since Adel's time, and the last war had gone in Esthar's favor earning the metropolis its fifth and last borough, the Merchata district to the extreme south of its perimeter.

The car docked at the station, and they entered a new and larger car that had some scientific equipment in it to transport to the Lunar Gate. Immediately, the station reworked the car onto a conveyor belt and slid it further eastward and out into the wild frontier.

Their mouths dropped in amazement, as their eyes took in a sea of orange.

"Wicked cool," Zell drooled.

The sand of the earth was a thin frosting over a rockbed rich in minerals that powered all the components of the metropolis, so the ground was fine for vehicles to drive across. The large transporter made its way onto a long and winding two-lane road meant for supply trucks and lab station vans. They passed several on their way across the Outer Edge, but their gazes were distracted by the numbers of wildlife roaming around.

Strange cattle that moved with the speed and agility of horses pranced across the sand, gorging on small bushy clumps of brown grass that dotted several areas north of the winding road. The cattle had two thatched horns and a small pointed tail, and they seemed to congregate in herds of nine with a dominant alpha male leading the pack. Small hyena-like dogs trailed them, in an effort to pick up any scraps from the bushes left behind. There were no Malboros left anymore, nor were there any Chimeras. Those creatures had been destroyed almost entirely since the renowned Purge seventeen years ago. What few had been left had shacked themselves up with Adel and a few Iron Giants and had been blasted up into space, presumably to be killed off there.

The minerals in the sand were slowly being extricated away, but with the government's plan of fertile rotation there was enough assurance that the land would still be rich for many centuries to come-- assuming the violent stages of Mankind would let it remain so.

A lagoon was to the south of the road, and the drive around the stumpy foothills revealed it to be a sparkling water mass. Light from the Sun shimmered off the sheen, and fish could be seen jumping across it in waves of two or three at a time. Fishermen were down in droves, and Squall could not help but wonder if that Master Fisherman from FH had done his training here. It certainly reminded him of the peaceful interludes in that ocean city. Except without the windmills around.

Ahead, the thing called the Lunar Gate came closer. The Lunar Gate, though, seemed a kind of pointless name for it; the building was quite small, and the launching pad on top of it was three times the size of the actual building. The pad was designed to propel something off the back end up a rapid and steep incline at the top. Presumably, enough force would launch the object straight up into space. "Shit," Squall said out loud, "you'll need enough energy to do that."

"You talking about launching shuttles into space?" Edea asked, startling him.

"Uh... yeah."

"I've never seen it done before, but that is how they do it. They use a chemical fertilzer to ignite the shuttle and send it roaring across the pad."

"Wise not to stand behind it," Zell noted.

"Uh, duh," Irvine said.

Squall didn't hear the rest of the bickering. He was just yards away from a device that would send him to the solution to his problems. He just hoped that it would solve his problems, that is.

The large transporter sped into a garage and came to a shaky halt, unnerving them a bit. Squall and Angelo were the first ones out and storming across the lot to the entrance. Even though he had never been here before, Squall acted like he knew where he was going. The dog didn't care, he'd go wherever Squall would tread. Zell and Irvine expended all their energy to catch up to him and tug at his collar.

"Wait, Mr. Leader," Irvine said.

"Yeah, dude. Gotta wait for the girls to catch up."

"Why? You're already here," Squall said.

Zell widened his eyes, and Irvine slapped his knee. "Ho---ly shit, that was good, Leonhart."

"There's no time to waste," Squall reiterated.

"We know that," Zell muttered, "but she's already here. No need to worry."

_No need to worry, eh?_ Squall sighed and shook his head. "Sure."

"Damn, Squall," Quistis muttered, panting as she finally caught up to the boys.

Selphie and Mila came up behind her, panting even more, and Edea was just calmly walking up to them, enjoying the breeze.

"Well, Squall," the former Sorceress asked, "are you ready?"

Squall couldn't answer right away. The large expanse of the shuttle pad caught his attention quickly. He had visions of being incinerated by the takeoff price. "....Yeah. I'm ready." He looked at each of them, one in turn. "Let's go."

* * *

"Ahhhh..." a warm and chuckling laugh greeted them, "welcome to the Lunar Gate Edea Kramer and Squall Leonhart. We have been expecting you." A young girl in a scientist's robe greeted them with a clipboard in her hand and a pencil behind her ear. Typical scientist nerd. "This way please," she gestured to a large, glass-paned room.

Suddenly, the atmosphere seemed to fall still, and Squall felt like wandering through that dense Choco forest back on the continent of Trabia looking for that damned Chocobo that had eluded him for nearly half an hour. She was behind those dark panes, and another girl was located several miles above him. He wasn't the only one feeling the jitters. He noticed unsure looks on his teammates, but the biggest surprise came from Angelo. It seemed the dog realized that he could not go up in space. Esthar, even in its advanced state, had not perfected space shuttles capable of sending animals into space--except those it wanted dead.

Squall looked into the dog's face, which seemed to sadden by the second. The furry mutt pawed his pant leg and made a little whimper. The gunblader bent down to ruffle him long between the ears. Not until Squall got Angelo's tail to make a small and repeated thump on the floor did he look up at Selphie and Mila. "He's in you two's hands."

"No need to worry, Squallie," Selphie giggled.

_Oh shit_, he thought. He gave the dog one last look and then entered the main facility.

As he entered, more scientists looked up and expressed nasally gestures of hello. The head scientist, who wore a bright yellow smock to distinguish himself, stepped forward. "Ah, good to see you, Mr. Leonhart. The girl has been loaded up onto the shuttle already, so that makes one down. With you that makes two. Who will be the third to go up?"

Squall leaned back. "You don't waste any time?"

"Time? What is time but an anomaly for a scientist?"

Squall shrugged. "A variable thing?"

"Precisely. So who's the third?"

Squall sighed and looked at his team. Edea was out, because she had already told Squall that having two sorceresses up in space would not be a wise decision. Selphie and Mila were going to be taking care of the dog, so that left three. Irvine and Zell were looking antsy. _Too antsy_. He noticed Quistis.

"You," he said to her.

"Me?" she asked.

"Ah, no fair," Zell said.

"Yeah, that bites, dude," Irvine added.

"No, it doesn't," Squall said sternly. He pointed at Quistis. "You always keep me in check. I'll need you around if I go stupid up there."

Zell and Irvine looked at her.

"It's the whole teacher-student relationship, you know," she said, smiling at them.

"Squall, Squall, Squall," Irvine laughed, "surrounded by so many women and not knowing what to do with them."

Squall looked at him funny and then pointed to Zell. "I'll give you one chance to team up with him to escort Edea back to the Presidential Palace."

"Why not full leader?"

Irvine hit him. "C'mon, dude, not a bad plan if you think about it."

"I suppose," the brawler said, grudgingly.

Squall shook his head and looked back at the head scientist. "We're ready now."

"Splendid," the man answered nasally. "Let me give you a brief rundown of the process. First, you and she enter this capsule and strap yourselves. Miss Heartilly is being kept in a small chamber inside where more of Odine's tests are running on her. The coma she is in is being particularly monitored so as to preserve her during the takeoff process. You two'll be going through a similar thing called 'cold-sleep'. Essentially, you'll be in a temporary coma same as her, except not the same as her. The shuttle ride will take about half an hour to reach the space station, so you'll have a small pleasant nap before you arrive." He gave a short nasally laugh that he was disappointed with after, because Squall didn't think it was funny. "We'll handle the takeoff, and once the 'cold-sleep' process is completed, you all will be loaded onto the pad and the booster will ignite then. After that, you three will be soaring into space." He made a little motion with his hand to simulate the soaring. "Be there in no time. Sounds cool, right?"

"Will your people mind if they have to clean out my pants afterward?" Squall asked.

"I'm with him on this one," Quistis said, nodding her head.

"Nonsense, you two, it is perfectly painless."

Squall and Quistis exchanged looks.

"Well..." the head scientist muttered, "I won't say there's _any_ risk involved."

Squall shrugged. "Fuck it. I'll do whatever it takes."

The head scientist fixed his glasses. "Super. Let's strap you in now." He started giggling, thinking about his nerdy calculations he had to do, as he waddled his way over to the console deck.

Squall sighed and looked at Quistis. "You go first."

"A'ight," she said nervously and looked at her companions.

"We're rooting for you two," Selphie said.

"Y-Yeah," Quistis replied. She looked at all of them again and slowly walked into the transport, where the aides strapped her in and waited for Squall. He took his time as well, smiled at them all sincerely and entered the transport. They watched it close and shoot up the tube and into the large black space shuttle that would transport them off of this earth.

"Damn that must be a blast to be on right now," Irvine said with a twinkle in his eye.

Hardly anyone could stop Selphie from smacking his back.

The transport hooked itself into the shuttle and locked itself in. Squall and Quisis were firmly in their seats, staring at each other. Above them, hydraulics removed a panel and two blue squirt guns were released. They heard a synching sound, and a tiny trail of blue liquid gas spurted out.

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

"Truthfully....I've never been more nervous in all my life," he answered.

She could only smile for response before she lapsed into sleep, and he followed soon after.

* * *

Several scientists worked closely together, so that their voices could be heard over the loud machinery. Each button pressed moved the large shuttle ever closer to the booster. "All systems in proper working order, sir!" they shouted to the head scientist.

"Booster is fully powered, sir!"

"Capsule is sealed tight, sir!"

"Patients are fully cold-sleep, sir!"

"Launch error correction, plus two. Orbital correction, minus one and counting up. Minus two. Minus three. Minus four. All corrections complete, sir!"

The head scientist smiled at all the data and pointed to one specialist. "Charge the booster!"

"Booster charging, sir!" A louder sound began. Three seconds later, the specialist reported, "Booster charged, sir!"

"Fire the shuttle!"

"Holy shit," Irvine said outside the compound. The rest of them expressed similar concerns. The booster at the back of the launch pad fired off three cylinders onto the track and ignited a large fireball behind the shuttle that careened it across the track's bottom and up the ramp. Side winders split off the shuttle, and a second boost propelled it off the ramp and into the air. A third round split off the back and jettisoned the shuttle into space.

"Booyaka!!" Selphie cheered.

"Booyaka indeed," Edea said.


	32. Super Guard

SUPER GUARD

As the large shuttle coasted farther into the sky, the group grew a little disheartened, but Zell was in charge now with escorting Edea back-- with Irvine's help of course. While the humans talked a little to shoulder off the absence of Squall, Rinoa and Quistis, Angelo picked something up.

Something fishy.

He was able to sneak past both Selphie and Milena, and he walked over to the far edge of the Lunar Gate platform and sniffed. He sniffed a good bit before giving a disgruntled bark.

"Hey, what is he..." Irvine said but didn't finish.

The others looked over at the mutt, but Angelo was becoming deeply disturbed. Something bad had struck his nose in the air, and he didn't like it one bit. He growled as nasty as he could, and he then he gave one loud howl that sent shivers down his human friend's spines.

"He's indicating the city," Edea said looking out at the skyscrapers across the horizon. Nothing seemed wrong from their position. "I can't tell what's gotten into him."

They all looked toward the city which dotted the eastern horizon for miles north to south along the coast of the Central Ocean. From this vantage point, all the details of the city looked completely intact against the setting Sun. Lights had begun to turn on within all the high-risers, and the city was about to shine in its brilliant crystalline state that was to be seen only at night. A scene that would rival the beauty of a nighttime Deling City.

As far as they could tell, nothing was wrong, but the damn dog was now trotting in circles around them and barking at them. Selphie managed to snag his tail and then corral him by her leg.

"Hmmm..." Edea muttered, caressing her chin. Her eyes narrowed a bit.

"What's wrong, Matron?" Zell asked.

Edea said nothing. She only continued to stroke her chin.

Irvine and Zell exchanged looks, as did Selphie and Mila. The air became quite still, and it didn't help that nobody was out on the parking lot nor on the tarmac of the Lunar Gate. Barely any trucks were on the road, as well.

The former Sorceress took a few steps forward and then remembered a little trick that was still with her. Since her defeat within Galbadia Garden, almost all of her former power had been surprisingly wiped clean from her, but she was able to maintain a little bit of Hyne's energy within her. She stood very still and concentrated on a fixed point within the city of Esthar and studied it for several minutes.

"What is she doing?" Selphie whispered.

"Dunno," Zell replied.

"I think she's looking for something," Irvine suggested.

A few more minutes passed, and then Edea snorted. "He has every right to fret," she acknowledged. "Hurry. Get in the car."

"Wh-What's wrong?" Mila asked.

"One very, very bad thing if I am right," Edea said sorrowfully. "Hurry! No time to waste here."

Still unsure, they nevertheless complied, and Angelo followed them with his tail between his legs. If he could speak he would've told them exactly how he felt at that moment: sheer fear. Even if he conveyed it quite easily by his barks.

Selphie shoved Irvine aside and manned the wheel. The cowboy told everyone to hang on, and the little spunky SeeD whipped the car around so fast that everyone bumped their head against the side. She peeled out and burned rubber on the orange and golden earth and made haste to the Dagobas borough. No one talked on the return trip, for they seemed to feel a slight grip sieze their nerves. An unseen presence was slowly tapping into them. Edea had almost zoned out completely, even though her eyes were fully open. Her irises had receded to an almost opaque stance, and she seemed to be as virtually dead to the world as Rinoa had been earlier.

The minutes were cut in half, as Selphie blew by cruising truckers and around all the bends and turns. The city grew larger and larger, and they realized that something _was_ up.

The Sun was setting, and all the city lights were on. However, they were flickering on and off. They were having stability problems. In some areas, entire blocks lost power momentarily before coming back on. This happened in a set pattern over and over that no doubt were driving citizens nuts. The interstates were visible from their position on the road, and they could just make out traffic stopped at a standstill.

Selphie drove the vehicle into the westernmost gates to the city and immediately slowed to a stop. The borough was jammed with stalled cars and loads of people. The light spectacle continued, and everybody was getting pissed. Citizens of Dagobas were bickering and quarreling, and several fights were breaking out between rival districts who blamed the happenings on each other. Police and military units were being deployed all over the city, and a riot was breaking out over in the Chupwas borough north of Dagobas. Irvine pointed to the Presidential Palace, visible from all angles of the city. The entire building was shut off of power, and each of the balconies were flooded with heads of people all shouting and pointing and doing wild things.

"The fuck is going on here?" Irvine asked.

"It's a mad house in here!" Mila gasped looking at everything.

"Matron!" Zell shouted.

Edea snapped out of her reverie and looked for a free and open route. "We need to hit the main artery that connects all these boroughs to the main city proper. Come on, children!" She wasted no time explaining and took off, and they hastily followed.

Every street was flooded with people, and unrest was breaking out. A fine time for the President to be away, but all his Congressmen were out on the streets they represented. Most people took kindly to that, but several areas ignited the unrest into violence, and already seven people were dead. Businesses were losing money, and the nightime stock exchange closed down. The mall closed down as well, and a flurry of angry shoppers hit the streets to protest. Still the lights continued to flicker, and faster they did. Now, however, a growing vibration was slowly infecting the city, and it seemed to be coming from the sky. Edea knew what it was, and several multitudes of Estharians seemed to figure it out as well. Edea led her children out of the borough and into the main avenue of the city and looked up at the sky, as did most everyone else.

Zell, Irvine, Selphie, and Mila quickly noticed a strange outline visible in the sky above the ocean that was rapidly advancing towards the city. From their positon on the main interstate, they could see between the skyscrapers the expanse of the sea and what appeared to be a few colored dots floating high above it. A vibration was pulsating across the waves, making them excessively choppy as well affecting the infrastructure and utlilities of the city of Esthar itself. Whatever it was, it was a hideous entity and a very massive one at that.

The former Sorceress remembered something suddenly and reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. She searched for a number and then went to a nearby empty phone booth. The group hustled to catch up to her, and they were getting antsy to find out what this intruder was. Edea phoned the number and got a busy signal. She cursed and smacked the side of the booth and searched for another number. She dialed that one, found it free, and waited for seven rings before an answering machine picked it up. She hung the phone up and dialed a third number and found it dead. She angrily placed the phone back and looked quite frustrated.

"I can't believe this," she said out-of-hand, but before her group could inquire the phone rang loudly and she immediately siezed it. "Donald?"

"_Edea?_" came the caller.

"Yes, Great Eden, I didn't think you'd still be there."

"_And I can't believe _you're_ still here. Edea, we are royally fucked right now._"

She sighed into the receiver. "Don't... please don't tell me--"

"_It is what you and I and all these people in this city know of--_"

"God damn it," she cursed, alarming the group. "Who is piloting that thing?"

_"Edea, I have no idea. You need to see Odine immediately."_

"Where is that foolish man?"

"_In his lab... not far from your position._"

Edea looked around her. To the east there was nothing, same with the west. She looked north and saw a ten-story building crudely shaped like an "O". "Is it that der Wasser building?"

"_That's the one. Quickly, my dear, there is no time to lose."_

"I read you. I'll speak with you later," and she hung up the phone.

"What is going on?" Selphie asked.

Edea opened her mouth to speak, but screams alarmed her.

"What in the name of Hell is that?" shouted a man nearest them.

"You know what that is!" yelled another.

Zell, Irvine, Selphie and Mila looked back at the sky and widened their eyes.

The dots floating above the sea all shone brightly in unison, and a thin stretch of solid yellow light formed from a base in the center and ran out the edge and then connected all the dots together at the bottom. A similar solid yellow light formed near the very top, some three hundred stories above, and did the same pattern to those lights. Then four solid green lights stretched all the way down from the top to the base, forming a tall parallelogram in the sky. Slowly but surely, strange arcane symbols flickerd to life all throughout the amorphous shape and green and purple Sorceress colors filled in the rest to form a most gigantic shiny structure in the sky. The sight was unmistakable.

It was the Lunatic Pandora.

"Holy fucking shit," Zell gasped, breathing heavily. Irvine opened his mouth to speak but could utter no words, and the girls made the same expressions. Edea silently wept as all around her millions of people cried out in terror. The younger generation even did the same as their parents and grandparents vehemently cursed the monstrosity heading towards them.

It was several miles off shore, but it was closing fast. A massive turbine engine was on its underbelly and propelling it forward as hastily as it could and churning the waves furiously underneath so hard that it was beaching whales to the south of the city. Hundreds of dead fish lined the coasts of Esthar's eastern beaches, and pollution from the leaking pipes on the Pandora were emptying into the ocean and distorting the color of the water greatly. Already, the military was lining up to attack the beast of their dreads, but there was hardly any time. Whomever was piloting the craft had expertly disguised the behemoth from any view the Estharians had had. Only a Sorceress-created entity could defy the most powerful scopes any man of the earth could possibly create. Eden hardly played a role in shaping human affairs, but Hyne most certainly had a prominent role in shaping Sorceress affairs. Everyone in the city knew where the structure was cruising to, and there was no way to stop it from getting to Tear's Pointe except without one hell of a fight.

Zell and his team were astonished by the sudden diminishment of Estharian-on-Estharian fighting. Citizens made room for the police and military to hit the frontlines, while they hastily went for their weapons as well to take up the rear fighting. Everyone knew how to fight but not to lead, and everywhere the eye could see was nervousness, anxiousness and bewilderment. They needed the Presidential Palace to be the foremost authority now to guide them here. Except the leadership was out of town at the moment.

Edea snapped them out of their reveries. "Quickly, children! We need to see the doctor at once!"

* * *

High above the city, and above the entire earth's civilizations if one thought about it long enough, Seifer, Raijin and Fujin looked out below them. Two were fidgeting quite a bit, but one of them was having the time of his life. He had a glass of gin, he was making target practice with flocks of birds and he was ready to let the Super Guard reluctantly sink their teeth into more flesh and blood. The Lunatization process was still underway and only about a third of the way complete.

Seifer cracked his back and announced over the loudspeaker. "Time for a little _Shock and Awe_, ladies and gentlemen!"

The Lunatic Pandora had three miles left to the shoreline.

* * *

It was divided into three layers that each supported some five dozen gun rigs and an equal number of predator drones for each gun rig. On command, the layers opened to their full attack potential, and the gun rigs snapped into place and the drones flew out towards the city. The latest in Galbadian technology, the drones had two large spikes pentrating their top and bottom designs, each equipped with five bombs a piece. They were the fastest and most agile weaponry on the planet, and they made quick haste across the waters and across the Great Salt Lake. The first line scissored across the sky and unleashed all of their bombs into the southernmost borough and the western edge of the main city proper. The top ten penthouse suite floors of a high-rise condominium crushed in pieces over the interstate, toppling cars, bicyclists and pedestrians off to the roads below. One spiked bomb hit a large section of pavement and blew chunks of concrete into a bank, lawyer's office and welfare center shattering each of the walls apart. Several dozen houses and small buisness shops crumpled underneath into dust, and at least a hundred people died from the succession of blasts. The frontline of drones scissored back to the hulking behemoth approaching the city, and the second and third lines stopped their flights and hovered around the westernmost edge of the great metropolis, watching and waiting for the Pandora to approach as well as the retaliatory moves of the Estharian military.

It had been over a decade of peace, but the multitudes of citizens had taken pride in their young city's torrent history, and they seemed to shed the dangerous rip current with ease. Thousands descended on the fallen and injured and hauled them to safety, while the defense forces opened hatches in the streets and produced sleek-oiled cannons and laser rifles. Out of the inside of a bank, a massive rocket launcher was hauled out and aimed squarely at the broadside of the Lunatic Pandora. Policemen, officer corps and sneaky armed citizens took up positions on all corners of the streets. Business ground swiftly to a halt in the majority of the city, while branches of the stock exchange operated under limited conditions in the northern boroughs. The economy had been short-shrifted anyway from the impending upheavals transpiring on the western continent; now it looked to grow even more erratic as the events furthered.

The line of defenders waited for the drones to answer a second call, but the agile weapons merely waited for the behemoth to approach. And it did so slowly. It churned up the sea beneath it into a deadly froth that sent small tidal waves crashing into the beachfront homes and all of the piers docking the western seaboard. Expensive schooners in the northern end capsized and splintered into pieces. The Great Salt Lake's western deposits mixed incongrously with seawater and damaged reserves several hundred yards within it. Down in the south end of the city, an entire neighborhood was flooded. The Lunatic Pandora reached within half a mile, and the Estharians unloaded prematurely. Rockets and gatling fire blew the front line of drones away, exploding their frames into metallic fireballs. Laser rifles and a big ultima bomb cracked chunks into the broad hide of the hulking vessel. A small lurch stalled the Pandora, but a resounding spurt of one of its gun cannons silenced the bank launcher in one fell swoop.

The people of the city did one of two things, but the majority stood their ground. A few desperate handfuls panicked and fled to the far eastern expanse, which was silly because that was where the Pandora was driving towards. Edea successfully led her orphanage children into Odine's laboratory, and she was relieved to find the arrogant prick scientist stuck on the ground floor in the middle of a frantic and heated conversation with several deputies. They immediately dropped their conversation upon her appearance and scowled at her gloomily.

Suddenly, before the group could utter a word, the doctor burst out laughing, and the gloominess left his eyes. They weren't quite sure, but the group thought they saw a twinkle flash across them. "Thees eez ze most amazeeng thing zat has happened!"

"Amazing?" Irvine, Selphie and Milena said at the same time.

"Bullshit!" Zell cursed. "The hell is wrong with you? Already at least a dozen people are dead, and one of this city's biggest banks has been flattened!"

Edea nodded her head. "I concur with their sentiments."

"Ah, fuck eet all!" Odine gesticulated. "None of zat iz of any concern."

Zell lightly brushed Edea's shoulder. "Permission to beat his ass."

"No, no, no," Edea answered shaking her head. However, she gave a look that signalled she was appreciative of Zell's suggestion. She walked over to the doctor, and his aides shrivelled back. Even as a "normal" human now, Edea still carried a certain amount of weight around. "Odine, this is a very serious issue."

"Of course it is, princess!" Odine snapped, surprising her. "Why eez the Lunatic Pandora here? Zat is the big question!" He slapped his forehead to indicate to them a "Duh" moment. "Someone iz driving zat thing, and it is someone that's not necessarily a good person, nor someone incredibly skilled in that vessel's history."

"Sir! Sir!" burst an outcry of a fellow scientist, as the aged man almost smacked his face in the plexiglass door.

The girls giggled, and Irvine failed to hide a smirk, as Odine turned angrily to his assistant. "Vhat the hell is wrong vith you?"

"It's the Super Guard, sir!"

"Ze Super Guard? Vhat the hell is that?"

"What?" his assistant asked. "Er... no mean to be insubordinate, sir, but that's been all over the news for the past three weeks."

Odine scratched the back of his head.

"They are impressed Galbadian and Deling citizens, with a handful of Dolletians left after the destruction of their city."

"Destruction?" Zell asked, instantly worried. Selphie, Irvine and Mila voiced the same concerns.

Edea frowned heavily. "So they got to Haydyn that quickly."

"Doctor," the assistant continued, "the Galbadian military unearthed the Pandora in Centra utilizing the eastern Centran populations and the southern Estharian populations as slaves. As many as four million of them were used, and almost half a million died in the process. After the brief war on Centra crushed the almighty Galbadian military, including their Garden, an alliance was built with the Deling Guard to further impress a draconian slavery among the citizens. Now the so-called Premiere of Deling City merged with a puppet leader of Galbadia, and they now command an army of roughly six million fighters composing of nearly two-thirds of the entire western continent."

"And they're all on that Pandora?" Edea asked.

"Not all of them, my lady, but a good number of them. It is impossible to tell, because the engineers used a special Sorceress technology to conceal the Pandora from all radar-- a sort of 'invisibility' technique. Information is capitulating off the charts and pouring in like wildfire. We guesstimate about a million fighting men and women onboard the vessel with an equal number of... this is very hard to explain..._mutated_ species onboard as well."

"Mutated?" Odine asked.

"We don't know what that means. All we know is there is a high concentration of succubus energy floating in a large portion of the southern end. It's a pretty strong current."

"Shit, this is bad!" Zell said, stamping his foot. "Real bad!"

"Our coarse friend is right, doctor!" the assistant said. "The military's on alert, but the Lunatic Pandora has disrupted most of our high-frequency signals and devices for our aircraft. Besides, most of it hasn't been ginned up yet for takeoff. The citizenry are beginning to take matters into their own hands. We need to not just alert but calm the people down, too."

"Vhat am I? The fucking President!" Odine snapped.

"Goddamn sonofa--" Zell started, before being jerked back by Milena.

"Ze city is not ze target, that much is clear!" Odine explained.

"What do you mean?" Irvine asked. "It's flooded the entire southwestern portion and destroyed a couple key buildings here. It's not too far from the shore either, and it's ruining the Great Salt Lake!"

"Zat lake needs to be destroyed. Ugly salt quagmire, if you ask me," Odine snorted. "Ze vessel is heading for Tear's Pointe. It is expecting a 'present' from ze sky. Ze pilot at least knows that much."

"What present?" Selphie asked.

"You're not talking about Adel?" Edea asked sternly.

Odine whirled around on her. "Vhat? Such an irreperable cause zat vould be, he he!"

Edea cringed.

"None of this is exciting, amazing or anything like that!" Zell yelled, stamping his foot hard again and scaring the piss out of the doc. "Those Galbadian assholes, doing that to their people and all, _I_ can't sit back here and watch them cruise to this Tear's Pointe thing unabated and all."

"Aww, zat's cute, but its been a long time since I've seen the Pandora. I am glad whoever dug it up kept it in such great condition."

Irvine snorted, and Zell grit his teeth. "What the hell is that Pandora?"

Odine laughed and smacked one of his aides. "Zhis iz vhat the Gardens graduate." He got a rile of laughter out of that one, however everybody saw the lights within the facility dim rapidly and an ominous power gripped their nerves. They all looked at Edea who had a nasty frown etching across her face, and they knew what she had done. "Right, right," Odine corrected himself. "Let me tell you my story for a quick sec."

"I don't need a story!" Zell shouted. " I need an answer to stop that thing!"

"Ooh go Zell!" Selphie whispered approvingly.

"Stop ze Pandora?" Odine shouted in surprise, his words echoed by his aides.

"Don't make me repeat myself!" Zell warned.

"Stop ze Pandora, eh? You can't stop it!"

"Bullshit," Irvine said for the brawler.

"Make the plan short and sweet," Zell pressed, "that's the only way I understand things around here."

"Short... and sweet?" Odine asked.

"Yes."

"Eek. Zat iz too bad. Ze only way you could do that vould be to infiltrate it. Hehe, infiltrating a vessel two-thirds of a mile in height and half a mile wide with virtually no access panel except a controlled latch in ze base and an entry point in ze starboard side, also heavilly controlled.... good luck, hehe."

"Worth a try, don't you think, doctor?" Edea said curtly.

Odine thought for a few seconds and then slowly nodded his head. "Bring down zat map," he spoke to an aide.

The aide complied and revealed a geographical map of Esthar. It showed the entire eastern continent and all the features that made up both the city and the land surrounding it. Someone fashioned a crude holographic image of the Pandora via satellite imagery. The vessel was within a quarter of a mile from landing. A half dozen drones were also shown spiralling around it. There also were about four dozen blips representing concentrated military redoubts poised primarily along the far western side of the city to present a weak defense against the Pandora.

"As ve have said," the doctor continued, "since our President is not currently here, our guard is down. Ve've desired to be a peaceful city, and the only large-scale buildup occurs under his presence. So, we are at a disadvantage in might numbers. Even so, as I have said, ve vill survive this little incident, even if they send the Super Guard. Although vith the extent of that, no one knows at this point. Zat's up to who ever is piloting that vessel. The Pandora iz expected to take an eastern-southeastern track to the Pointe. It will undoubtedly cross over ze city."

Odine snapped his fingers at the aide. "Zoom in ze map."

The aide complied, and the large map downsized to a greater illustration of Esthar Proper-- the main thoroughfare. "There are three large highways zat serve as skylines for ze city's traffic. They vill most likely be used as military zones. Zhere are four stretches of inner skylines-- colored tubes zat direct citizens to and fro without ze use of automobiles. You can use these to get from point to point rather easily. Ze Lunatic Pandora will hit ze western shore and travel due east south of the Presidential Palace and cut across the main commercial district. It will pass over this lab four blocks south and then head for ze shopping mall and zhen finally to ze the Dagobas borough. At its current speed, it vill take roughly twenty minutes to cross the city's width."

Everybody analyzed the map a bit, before Odine continued, rubbing his chin. "I believe you have three chances to board zhis vessel. One is at the direct center of Esthar Proper. At zhat point, the Pandora will have arrive zhere within five minutes of breaching the city. You can get there by going south from here, but zhat vill put you in the path of the military, and zhey might not take too kindly too zhat."

"The fuck? This is a serious mission!" Zell shouted.

"Duh, my spiky-haired friend. However, zhis is the military's city. I am sure you vould act the same way if it vas your Garden!"

Zell grudgingly admitted that and gritted his teeth some more.

"If you all can get to zat point, you are golden. You'll be directly underneath ze Pandora, and I'm sure you all can figure it out from zhere."

Selphie and Mila looked at each other, concerned.

"Ze second point of entry can occur at a strange place. Strange, I know, because it is where two of ze highways cross paths. It is a very strategic spot, and that's vhere the military units have concentrated a bulk of their force at. My guess is zhat will be vhere zhey vill try to board the vessel. Ze Pandora vill be there within ten minutes.

"There iz a third point, unprotected by the military but hard to get to. North of ze shopping mall is a train depot. If you ascent that depot, you can board it easily from there. Take the inner city skylines to reach it. Ze Pandora should be there within fifteen minutes. Zhat is all."

"What kind of a guarantee do we have that this will work?" Irvine asked.

"The only one that I'll take at this moment!" Zell butted in.

"Zell, honey!" Mila cautioned. "We can't screw this up!"

"She's right, Zell," Edea said. "This is something we would have to get right on the first try. It is very difficult to cross this city on foot in a relatively short period of time."

"All the more to hustle butt, I say!" Zell replied.

The others laughed at his enthusiasm, and Angelo barked his approval. However, to his disappointment, Mila kneeled down and rubbed his ears and said, "_You_ should probably stay here, though."

"Yeah, that is probably a good idea," Selphie acknowledged. She looked at one of Odine's aides. "Will he be safe here?"

"Absolutely. We will take good care of him, don't you worry."

The dog looked at Selphie as if to say _What gives?_ Selphie rubbed his ears and cooed. "It'll be alright, boy."

"Come on guys," Zell shouted, "let's take this crackpot scientist's plan and get the hell onto that Pandora. We'll find out what's going on inside it, and maybe even stop it too!"

"Crackpot scientist?" Odine said in a low voice.

"Come on!" Zell ordered and left the facility before they could even reply.

They followed him out and paid no attention to Odine's last words: "Ze Pandora is not ze only thing to worry about in this scenario."

* * *

The Lunatic Pandora hit the shores of Esthar amid a barrage of railgun and laser fire from the redoubts mounted on the highways and atop the Presidential Palace and the shopping mall. A line of skyscrapers manned a facade along the beachfront, and the Pandora instantly smashed through the tops of ten of them as it poured its way into the city. It hovered briefly over the beginning of the highway system and then opened its base. The Estharians ceased their weapons, as Galbadian soldiers appeared in armored humvees onto the highway. They were followed by three large platoons of Galbadian, Delinger and Dolletian citizenry.

What was peculiar was that the people were wearing crowns on their heads. Crowns sewn into their foreheads with bright shiny red buttons on them. Wires traced out of the crowns onto large cylinders on their backs, and their hands gripped tightly the projection of a nozzle and funnel. The Estharians correctly pointed out that the citizenry were the Super Guard, and that they carried flamethrowers on their persons.

Roughly ten thousand impressed citizens emptied out onto the highway, and the Lunatic Pandora continued on its merry way eastward across the city-- the Estharian weaponry barely making nickel-sized dents into its armor.

The two armies were a football-field distance away from each other, buildings and city features aside. The ten thousand-strong army against an Estharian unit three times the size was led by roughly three hundred hard-traine Galbadian and Delinger soldiers fully souped up with tough weaponry. Drones also hovered in the air. On the note of the commanding officer, a colonel, someone turned on a switch. The impressed citizenry were awake and alive, but extremely depressed. The click of the switch changed them immediately. The red buttons lit up to a ferocious light, and their eyes glowed bright ruby. A smell of electrified flesh imbued the entire city, and while the Galbadian soldiers wore face masks to protect their noses, the Estharians smelled the horrible smell instantly and quavered from the blow. The Super Guard readied their flamethrowers and marched hurriedly to the people of Esthar, torching any obstacle that got in their way: trees, benches, cars, animals, passersby, even buildings.

It was a most painful sight and an even more painful decision. The armed and unarmed civilians, the police and the military all looked at their government officials standing by and the commanding officers on the field for a decision. The Galbadian officers stayed in the background, and the Super Guard continued to move forward. For a full breathless minute, nothing was done. The army moved within striking distance of the fire, and then the order was given. Gatling fire mowed down the front line of impressed citizens, and the flamethrowers ignited as well.

* * *

Zell's corps left Odine's laboratory and witnessed the first strike by ground forces of the Lunatic Pandora. Zell couldn't stop himself from unleashing a barrage of curses. The Pandora had dispatched ten thousand impressed citizens of the western continent, and they were hooked up to a horrible flamethrow pack as well as a mindbending scrambulation device, as only the Galbadians could perfect so wickedly. The Estharians had no choice but to put them down, for the source of the imprisonment of these men and women was not visible on the offset.

"Shit. That vessel is travelling at a much faster clip than the doctor thought," Irvine judged.

The Pandora's base contained three large generator and three large thruster that poured sludge and waste all over the buildings and streets, staining blue metal green. It crashed through more skyscrapers, sending building parts and people down to the ground. The ground forces were being led by savage Galbadian soldiers that rode in armored humvees near the rear of the advancing flamethrow-equipped citizenry. Some of the citizens were fighting their imprisonment-- those with stronger hearts than the others-- and the soldiers were cajoling them with cattle prods to continue the advancement.

"We should blow a hole in that Pandora," Selphie said excitedly, "with a rocket launcher or something!"

"Getting excited again, girl!" Irvine yelled.

"We've got to save those citizens first," Zell suggested. "They call them the 'Super Guard'. I don't know what the fuck that means, but we need to stop the process that's gonna eventually kill them all."

"Quite right, Zell, but we don't have much time!" Edea warned.

Without warning, the brawler ran across the street and hustled up like a monkey onto a traffic post. His girlfriend cried out in shock, but Irvine actually gave a sound of approval. Zell scoured the city from his position, which opened up the scenery to a greater extent. The Pandora was edging closer to the center of the city, and the Estharian military opened a barrage of rockets on the hide of the monolith, causing less than stellar damage to it.

"Fucking idiots," Zell mused. "The base is vulnerable." That gave him an idea. He yelled down toward Selphie and Irvine. "Obtain a rocket launcher or something!"

"What've you got, Zelly?" Selphie asked, her eyes alit.

"Head to the mall afterwards and blow up one of the thrusters on the base of this thing. That should slow it down and open up something on its hide!"

"Growing smarter by the day, Zell," Irvine said, tapping his head. Selphie hauled him by the arm, and they raced off down the main thoroughfare to "borrow" a heavy-duty weapon.

"While they're doing that..." Zell started, turning back to the panoramic view. He grunted in disgust, as the Pandora unleashed a second wave of impressed citizenry, this time behind the main flank of the Estharian military. Now the greenies were being pincered on both sides by over twenty thousand people. The Estharian civilians were rightfully adverse to firing on their contemporaries, and they heeded the calls of their government officials to retreat to the eastern edges of the city. The military was likewise reluctant, and some of them paid the price in burning flesh. The entire scene was one of wayward confusion, with mostly the Galbadian officers causing all the damage.

Suddenly, Zell's eye caught a small structure located within the Galbadian ranks. "There it is!" he shouted. "Ugly piece of shit, too."

"What is it?" Edea asked.

"It's a tripod-mecha. It looks easy to dismantle, too."

"That's what is causing the civilians to act militant?" Milena asked.

"I'm positive," the brawler replied jumping down to the ground. He smiled at his girl's awed complexion and then smacked his fists together. "Time to roll. You two got anything to fight with?"

Mila produced her scepter, and Edea showed off a little bit of electrical energy pulsating from her fingertips.

"Good enough with me," Zell cheered. "Let's go!"

* * *

A city of thirty million people can never truly be a content society. Indeed there are some factions of the city that run against the interests of the majority, the government and the military in some form of fashion. The so-called Tyrannical Leaders were one of these factions, the most vocal faction, and their ideologies stemmed from a longing to return back to the age of Adel. Their prior leaders had gained her favor and received subsequential perks from her staid. For them the terror that was the Adellian reign hardly affected their economic prospects. The President's current itinerary did not provide their adequate tastes or pleasures well enough as Adel had done, and the Tyrannicals were quite displeased with the manner in which Adel had been outcast.

So, for the short run, the Tyrannicals looked upon the approach of the Lunatic Pandora as a gracious sign from Hyne that Adel was coming back. The Super Guard, as the carriers of the Pandora called them, were only tools to be used in dragging the Pandora across the city. However, as their scouts reported back, the Tyrannicals were unsure that the Super Guard were doing their job correctly. They needed a little "prodding" that the Galbadians were failing to do correctly.

In droves, sharpshooters descended upon the center of the city as the Super Guard and the Estharians reluctantly battled each other and started picking off both sides with expert aim. This third conflict embroiled the battle into an all-out assault. The Estharian military became enraged and started firing large volleys into the impressed citizenry, as well as launching rockets into the Tyrannical strongholds. The Super Guard split in half: one went waywardly in extreme confusion and duress and the other fired with blazing inaccuracy anything that moved, including themselves. The Galbadians tried to restore order, but they became caught in the crossfire on numerous occasions.

The distraction inadvertently aided Selphie and Irvine. A main redoubt was crushed by a drone bomb, and the men manning it scattered like cockroaches. Selphie found a large grenade launcher, but it was way too heavy. Irvine patted her shoulder and showed a lighter one that actually had a more deadly accurate scope. She thanked him with a kiss and started to expertly craft the gun back together with six ready cylinder shots. Irvine pulled himself together, heaved up the heavy grenade launcher and loaded six shots of his own.

A Tyrannical located the two SeeDs and fired off a shot that smacked hard into Irvine's shoulder. He grunted out in pain and dropped to his knees to miss the second shot that would have pushed his brains out the back of his head. Selphie, pissed as almighty Hell, ducked around out of the sharpshooter's sight, pulled out into the open and fired a cylinder that exploded the nest the Tyrannical and six of his buddies were hiding behind. The blast rocketed them into the air and killed three instantly, including the one who shot her man. The other three had various body parts blown off of them, and they were out of commission for the fight. The explosion caused a new ire to envelop the fighting forces. The Pandora's pilot decided to advance a bit faster than it had done previously, more Super Guardsmen panicked, and the Galbadians realized that they were dealing with SeeDs once again. Selphie pulled Irvine to the side and administered what little aid she had.

"Girl, what are you doing?" he asked playfully.

"You're bleeding like a stuck pig."

"Nothing but a scratch, dearie."

She stuck her finger into his shoulder, and he cried out sharply. "I don't take kindly to liars."

"Ah, geez," he snorted. A dead soldier next to him had a vial of medicinal liquid that was probably an illegal drug. That only meant it healed wounds faster. He opened it up and stuck the five-inch needle into his skin, wincing only slightly then getting up afterwards. "See...nothing...to it," he managed to say.

She only shook her head.

"I think lying's the best thing I can do right now. We've got to get to the shopping mall!"

"Right," she said uneasily. She nevertheless happily strapped her launcher onto her back and hauled him up to his feet.

Tyrannicals, Galbadians, Estharians and the Super Guard were now slaughtering each other all over the streets. Pollution from the Pandora's bottom instantly melted the skin off whatever flesh it came in contact with. A large urban section of the city was damaged, burning or marked with unrest, and at least four hundred people were presumed dead, injured or missing. That number was steadily climbing as more and more people entered the crosshairs of various weapons.

Zell, Mila and Edea used the inner skyline to hover over most of the carnage before a drone attack destroyed a large section of the skyline yards away from their transport.

"Oh shit," Zell managed to say, before all three of them emptied out of the red tube line and fell onto an overturned semi. Mila and Edea managed to stay, suffering bruises to their arms and back, but Zell crashed all the way out hit the hood of the semi and landed on the street. A second transport that had been behind them flew out the skyline and crashed into a skyscraper, killing the riders instantly. "Damn it all!" the brawler yelled. "Where are these people's traits of common courtesy?"

"You expect a blugu to answer that?" Mila asked seriously.

"Uh... yeah you got a point there."

"Zell," Edea asked, hopping down from the semi, "how far are we from the mecha?"

"A couple blocks to the east of it. We don't have much time." A ground-level transport linking the highways together and in a direct linkage to where the mecha was slowly patrolling around the city was in sight at the end of the boulevard. Zell dashed to it, but a rocket from the Pandora smacked hard into a skyscraper above it. Large chunks of flaming building material and asbestos rained down on the street, almost suffocating the trio. The transport was destroyed in the process.

"Ah, come on!" Zell yelled at the steadily moving behemoth. His eyes widened as the Estharians finally got their small military fliers going. The large airships were decommissioned at the moment, but the greenies had capable fighter jets and gun-rigged helis. A barrage of missiles took out all the drones, splattered to death several dozen Galbadian officers along with sadly a few impressed civilians, and even gorged out a huge chunk of the Pandora's hide. Several mounted cannons on the Pandora collapsed inward, but an entry point still did not surface-- leaving the Estharian military to become even more irate.

"Zelly, look!" Mila shouted, pointing to a procession moving across the street south of them. Multiple lines of Super Guard slowly proceeded against a routing Estharian line, commanded by sixty Galbadian officers. The mecha imprisoning the Guardsmen strolled in the center of the Galbadian pack, its sensory head darting a full 360 degrees around the city. It's scope caught the trio and sent a loud wave of klaxons. "Ah crap," the Library girl moaned. Edea moaned the same and pulled the two out of the path of the Galbadian's machine guns. Bullet fire distracted away from the greenies, and the Estharian military split into two sides: one to retrieve the SeeDs and the other to swarm around the back of the Galbadian line. Several lines of Super Guard broke off and dashed forward to Zell's group, flamethrowers heated up.

The Lunatic Pandora was gaining speed, passing the first checkpoint that could have been used to scale the monolith. The Estharians were in disarray, and the Tyrannical factions were swelling in number with the Estharian legislators desperately trying to reign everyone in.

"Enough is enough!" Zell spat. He felt the force in his mind, saw the thunder god speak in approval to him, and unleashed Quetzacotyl above the city. Even the Super Guard in their afflicted state paused to join the other processions in staring at the yellow-and -green tattooed Guardian Force. The bird straddled the side of the Lunatic Pandora, gathered all its strength of lightning energy on the tip of its beak and then soared down to the streets. Passing over Zell, Mila and Edea it released the thunderball and engulfed the Galbadians, Super Guard lines and even some of the Estharians in a hail of thunderous energy frying the skin off the hides of the men and women. The smell of burnt flesh permeated everything, and most people around the blast radius were unsure of how to respond. Quetzacotyl gave a squawking laugh and soared into disappearance within the clouds.

"Um," Edea said, "hardly the response I was looking for in that."

"It helped somewhat," Zell responded.

"Not really," Mila noted, "the mecha was protected."

Zell grunted in disappointment as the mecha had hid behind a barrier the Galbadians had put up. Most of the casualties were Galbadian and the first six lines of the Super Guard. Estharians nearest the trio motioned for them to get out of the way, but no sooner than they did that the Lunatic Pandora briefly opened its gates at the base and dropped another platoon of Super Guard. Nearly thirty thousand of them now swarmed the city. The helicopters were wary at first, but one managed to sneak a rocket into the hatch. The attack was more detrimental, however-- it killed fifty impressed citizens and only bent the hatch some. The port was able to close, but a postulation revealed that another direct hit could blow it open. However, a rain of blood and guts fell on the ground from the carcasses of the Super Guard.

"Well, I guess I'm off the hook for a little while," Zell tried to joke. However, he caught Mila and Edea's eye, and the scorn was too much.

A new line of Super Guard surprised the greenies manning the reconnaisance line for the helis as well as the mortar crews. Streams of fire rained on them from six different directions, and at least a hundred Estharian soldiers and police succumbed to a hellish death. A new counterwave erupted, and Estharians swarmed the Guardsmen line with bayonet-tipped rifles. Fire and blade met across three streets in the center of the city, dropping bodies by the barrel on both sides, and still the monolith and its escort crew stretched across the city. Zell pulled the girls to their feet, escaped a searing line of fire and forced himself to drop a few of the line of Super Guard. Some of the citizens he thought he recognized from Dollet and Fisherman's Horizon. A sickening thought hit him: whatever happened to Cid and Mayor Dobe? Could they be in this impressment force too? It was a thought he didn't want to delve too deeply in.

* * *

"Seifer," Raijin said solemnly. Fujin was by his side, too depressed to even think.

"What! Good god, man, can't you see I'm trying to enjoy my gin?" The gunblader was relaxed in his plush leather chair near the apex of the Pandora with a small panoramic view of the embattled metropolis before him. Watching all the missiles streak back and forth as well as numerous explosions affecting the central city proper made him all the more envious but deeply pleasured at witnessing the scene.

"Seifer, this is going too far, man, ya know? All those people are dying for nothing. Can't you call off the main assault, you know, and just fly over the city to the Pointe?"

Seifer frowned into his glass. "You fucking moron. Look what you've done, you made this taste like fucking dog piss!"

"Seifer, ya know!" Raijin pleaded.

The Knight threw his gin glass straight at Raijin's head, but the burly man ducked in time and the glass shattered the wall inches from his face. "_Their_ sacrifice is tantatmount to the plan at hand! Deal with it!"

"Sir Seifer," Premier Whigham called in the back. "The Lunitization Process has been completed, sir. Shall we send the Lunatics down?"

"Splendid, but no. Wait to see what that Squall bastard and this dumbass President do before you send them down. This little opposition is nowhere near the massive firepower this city has to offer. For some reason, the President is out of the country, and Squall has yet to rear his ugly head. The city is too massive to fully invade anyway. Wait for the Lunar Cry to happen. Then we'll raise hell," he added with a nasty grin that made Whigham pleased to see.

"With pleasure, sir," the Premier replied.

"You two," Seifer said to Raijin and Fujin, returning a scowl to his face. "Get on with your duties and don't question again."

Raijin nodded and turned with her to go back. "Don't know for how long," he whispered under his breath.

* * *

"Shit!" Irvine cursed, setting the bulky grenade launcher down. "All the transports are out of commission. Of all the fucking times, too."

"Don't be such a baby, baby," Selphie answered. "Look! We're right next to the mall. And there's the third checkpoint position!"

"Where?"

"That radio tower. At least I think that's Odine was mentioning. Let's scale that, the military's nowhere near here!" A wild look was in her eyes.

The cowboy looked down at his weapon and gulped. It would be hell to lug that son of a bitch up there, but before she could see his concern over the issue he hauled the beast of a weapon up on his back and took to the ladder of the tower first. Explosions did not do good to calm his nerves, climbing up that ladder, but he managed. He scaled to the top and let out a shriek that he would later recall as being kind of girlish.

"The hell is wrong, Irvine?" Selphie asked from her position on the ladder.

"That fucking rig is closer than I thought. It's passing the second checkpoint already!"

"The point of the intersecting highways?"

"That's right." He winced as the monolith's base sawed of the guardrail on the highway and plummeted dozens of cars into buildings and strewn wreckage all over the lower streets. The Super Guard were being carried along with it by horrendous Galbadian soldiers.

"Great Eden," Selphie managed to say, tossing her launcher next to him and then fully scaling the ladder. It was windier up here, and her hair was blowing into her face. "Damn, I want to kick some Galbadian ass!"

"Just worry about that damn vessel," Irvine said. For a minute he was sure his keen eyesight saw Zell, Edea and Mila race across the streets. They were almost near that confounded mecha. "Squall's putting a lot of faith into that brawler. Let's hope his judgment is correct."

"Irvy," she snapped, slapping his back, "he's an orphanage buddy!"

"Don't get me wrong. I like Zell a lot, but he's an idiot sometimes." It was at that moment that Quetzacotyl unleashed itself in the center of the city. From their viewpoint, they saw the extent of the damage and the body count. "See?" the cowboy shrieked. "See what I mean?"

She slapped his back again, harder this time. "_You_ need to pay attention, look!" She pointed to the base. "The helicopters made a dent in the bottom hatch. Perfect shot from a grenade launcher!"

"Girl, you're crazy! The distance is too great, and that lousy scientist!" He spat hard at the side of the tower. "He misjudged the direction of the Pandora, look!" He pointed at the rig. "It'll pass us three blocks south! Dammit, why couldn't Laguna have killed that bastard all those years ago!"

Selphie thought a moment and then finally shook her head and crouched low into an aim.

"What are you doing?" Irvine asked.

"Having more balls than you, big boy," she replied. She sighted the scope onto the hatch with her grenade launcher and waited for the Pandora to get into a sizable line. When it was green, she hit the trigger and sent a devastating cylinder towards the rig. The grenade shell splattered at the very bottom of the Pandora, disrupting the flow of one of the thrusters and tearing apart half of one generator. The blast actually stumbled the Pandora a bit before it continued, but the hatch did not open fully. It merely jammed more inward. "Shit!" she cursed, almost dropping her weapon over the radio tower railing.

"Damn good shot," Irvine whistled. "I wish we were somewhere else at the moment," he added with a sly wink.

Zell blinked in surprise as the grenade cylinder had whistled over his head and smacked hard into the belly of the beast. Everyone on the ground with him, friend and foe alike, lay stupefied expressions at the sudden occurrence. The brawler indicated an opening to the mecha-- Selphie and Irvine had saved their butts. "This is it!" he yelled to Mila and Edea.

In his typical fashion, he stupidly hurled himself into the mix and surprisingly held his ground. With lightning quick reflexes learned from weeks of reading _Combat King_, he punched glass jaw punches into seven Galbadian officers and hurled seven more with kicks to the throat and gut. The mecha was in sight, but one Galbadian shot him in the shoulder and another kicked him in the crotch. Milena sprang through, jamming her scepter into soldier's throat and firing ice magic into three more. Edea retained some of her Sorceress powers and used the power of a force field to knock thirteen soldiers into the air and in the sides of the buildings. Zell recouperated from the graze of his flesh, but the Super Guard forced their attention off the greenies and doubled back on the trio. Flamethrowers whipped into quick order and nearly scorched Zell and Mila into an inferno if Edea had not used her magic to levitate the two away. The former Sorceress instituted the same power to the entire front line of the Super Guard and drilled them several feet into the air and several yards backwards, knocking them into the second and third lines.

Frantic shouts from the Galbadians called to execute Zell, Mila and Edea but the Estharians saved them from annihilation. Half the greenies pushed back the guerilla Tyrannicals and the other half quickly put down the bulk of the Galbadian officers. In the span of two minutes, the sizable Galbadian force was cut to a third, and the remainder fled the scene leaving the Super Guard to their fate. The mecha, clear and vulnerable, ground to a halt. Zell seized the opportuinity, jumped it, and beat it to a metallic pulp.

Instantly the hypnotic state dissipated, and the Galbadian, Delinger and Dolleitan citizenry immediately stopped advancing and looked at their weapons in absolute fright. They smelled the smell of death and beheld the sight of a great city being charred and riddled with signs of war. Everywhere the Super Guard cried in fear, but the Estharian military rushed to calm them down. Greater panics of fear erupted still when the Tyrannicals kept up their terrorism, but that only lasted for a short time. The greenies immediately routed the pesky factions, yet the Lunatic Pandora continued to escalate on. It did not drop anymore Super Guard, but the ones on the ground were being immediately cared for in typical Estharian hospitality.

The main generals and the presiding Congressmen noticed Zell, Mila and Edea and publicly congratulated, before Zell remembered the duty. "Sorry, guys, we gotta run!"

The crowd rejoiced in the SeeD's presence, and the trio made haste to get to the third checkpoint.

By now, the Pandora was almost there.

The vessel was an ugly sight to Irvine's eyes, and he spat once again at it. He had lost count of how many times he had done that. What pleased him the most was the fine work Zell had done. He ignored Selphie's "I told you so" remark and took note that the trio was heading for their position. The Lunatic Pandora was just in range for a second shot, and he saw Selphie make a move to avenge herself.

He held her back gently. "Easy girl."

"Now hold just a minute here--"

"_I_ am a sharpshooter."

"So sharp your shoot, then," she teased.

"You kid, but have I ever failed before?"

"How 'bout on top of the clocktower in Deling City?"

Irvine shook his head. "I knew who Edea was, though."

"Yes. Yes you did. Proceed."

Irvine sighed and took aim. Now at this moment, it was much different than taking that sniper shot at the former Sorceress. _This_ time they would stop a rig in its tracks. Or so that was the plan-- at least a point of entry. The Pandora came into the green, but he hesitated slightly. He wanted more of that belly. It showed itself, and he exhaled once and squeezed the trigger. That extra spurt allowed the cylinder to penetrate directly atop the hatch. The hatch completely detached, and one generator and two thrusters completely exploded. A massive hole revealed itself, and the Lunatic Pandora grounded to a screeching halt for minutes at a time. A blessing from Eden it had seemed-- it had stopped half a block from Zell's position, two blocks from theirs! Irvine dropped his launcher and hauled Selphie down the ladder. "No time to waste," he explained shortly with her.

* * *

Inside the Pandora, Premier Whigham was in a panic. He was so panicky that he shot two of his staffers at point blank range. Hundreds of his workers desperately tried to implement evasive manuevers, but there was no way to close that hull. They opted instead to increase the remaining thruster to optimum capacity and monitor it closely in case of a meltdown which would rupture the Pandora in two. Whigham was furious and demanded to know who caused the damage.

Seifer knew immediately. He was looking right at the culprit on his telescreen.

"Damn good shot, cowboy," he grinned.

* * *

Zell motioned like mad to Selphie and Irvine who quickly caught up to the three. They were surrounded by Esthariand and freed-up Super Guardsmen. All of them wanted to know what to do next, but luckily for them Edea and the Presidential Aide Donald calmed the group down. The Pandora could be heard firing up its final thruster again, so they talked in hurried paces.

"We SeeDs," Edea started, "shall scale the Pandora and see if we can damage it along the plains. There might be a way to stop it from going to Tear's Pointe and having that madness commence!"

The Estharian generals agreed with a round of huzzas to that. Edea ignored the concerned looks on Zell, Irvine, Selphie and Mila. Donald concurred with the former Sorceress. "While Matron is busy getting that underway, ladies and gentlemen, we have a duty to make. I have been in contact with the President. He is on his way back as we speak and he wishes for the Tyrannicals and the Kabuls to be put under house arrest and for the Super Guard to be properly taken care of. He will address the city as soon as he gets back. Let us hurry and address these issues at once!"

The crowd responded heartilly and quickly moved to suppress the outlier factions and subsequently aid the impressed citizens. Donald turned to Edea and her children and gave a wish of good luck to them.

Zell smacked his fists together and noticed the Pandora lurching forward. "Last one in is a rotton egg!" He somersaulted into the open hatch, followed quickly by an equally impressive somersault by Milena. Irvine's strength was able to hurl both Edea and Selphie into the rig, and then he somersaulted himself in and cleared the gap.

* * *

Instantly, flashbacks hit Selphie, Zell and Irvine of Laguna, Kiros and Ward travelling like three stooges through the Lunatic Pandora from its excavation in the Centran Plains. They were facing a stepped incline at first, but the wall were a kaledioscope of colors and shifting in their color scheme at the drop of a hat. It was cold inside this layer of the rig; a vibrant and droning sound bellowed throughout the cavernous vessel. Mila bundled up next to Zell and Selphie did the same to Irvine. Edea used a limited heat spell to temporarily warm herself, but that didn't ease her too much.

"Matron," Selphie asked, and the caring woman looked at her. "What 'madness' is about to commence?"

"Yeah, what is that about?" Mila asked.

The guys gave her looks, too.

Edea sighed, knowing the burden she was about to tell. "From your studies at Garden, you have heard of the Lunar Cry?"

"Long ago," Irvine said, "there was a Sorceress that lived on this earth--"

"--Tyra, yes," Edea said, nodding.

"--she was able to summon monsters from the Moon to aid her in conquering a civilization on the northern continent. I'm not sure how she did it, though."

"She used a force-induced pinnacle made of crystal and laced with Malboro juice. You see, Malboros and Iron Giants are a powerful Sorceress's stellar fighters. A Sorceress will always have her Knights, the most powerful men on the planet, but Malboros harness the succubus energy we Sorceresses are imbued with and the Iron Giants are our rooks that crush anything they come in contact with. Sort of like whipping boys that do all the dirty work while the Knights sit back and wait for the perfect opportunity to assassinate. Tyra had slaughtered willingly a bunch of Malboro and harnessed their blood in a crystal found on the northern continent. She wanted the city of Tortuga badly, because that was where the main government that made all the worldly decisions was held at. It is no different to this day: Adel and I wanted Esthar, because Esthar unlike Galbadia controls _everything_. Galbadia was like an Iron Giant, a whipping boy. Easy to deceive and utilize. Esthar, of course, has all the riches of the world and owns a particular spot that is imbued greatly with Malboro energy: Tear's Pointe.

"The Lunatic Pandora, thanks to that bastard Odine, is the new 'crystal' of the age. Once directly overhead of the Pointe, Adel's tomb can be triggered once again, and the Lunar Cry can be subsequently triggered. The howls of the Moon will coincide with the howls of the sepuchural creatures embattled in the mausoleums of Tear's Pointe. If we can't stop the Pandora from reaching there along these high plains, I fear for the safety of us all. Not even... Squall Leonhart or a resuscitated Seifer Almasy could save us in that instant."

"Matron!" Zell said.

"Yeah!" Selphie concurred. "You're doubting all of us in one fell swoop?"

"Children!" Edea said sternly, catching them all by surprise. "Believe me when I speak of such things. I carried this burden for thirteen years. To think that it shall be let out in the open is... is... is unspeakable! This is truly a time of madness in our history. A once in a succession of ages, so to speak."

"When....when was the last time?" Irvine asked.

"Five hundred years ago."

".....What happened then?"

"It wiped out all human life on the earth for a hundred years, before Eden and Hyne and the rest of the Guardian Forces came to a certain agreement. The threat of Sorcerey was never fully resolved, and Hyne was not to be trusted on that notion."

The four young warriors were silent for a good long while. A very heavy, uneven silence amid precious time being wasted.

"Will there always be Sorceresses?" Mila asked.

Edea thought about that. "You would have to ask Hyne about that."

Silence again. Zell finally broke it. "We need to stop this vessel at once!"

Edea mournfully nodded, depleting Zell's enthusiasm. "Let us go."

They ascended the incline in silence and came across a large platform rigged by a frosty guardrail. Three large elevators led straight up against a colorful crystal-clear wall that changed from splotchy red to spattered yellow to speckled green and then back to splotchy red in an interval of five seconds a piece. Somewhere in the depths of the Pandora, bellowing sounds of men shouting orders, grinding machinery and other noises fluttered all around them. There were hundreds of security cameras lined all around them, and every camera followed their every movement.

It wouldn't be too long.

And yet, no one came.

"Which elevator?" Irvine asked.

"I don't think it will matter," Zell said.

All of them painfully acknowledge that and they chose the one labelled "01." They all boarded it, and the cameras whirled after their every action. The heavy doors closed, and a slightly melacholy tune started playing within their space as the elevator smoothly raced upward into the hallows of the Lunatic Pandora. Mila clutched at her scepter, Irvine held the butt of Exeter, Selphie played with the handles of Crescent Wish and Zell shifted his weight from one boot to the next. He wondered if the pilots of this vessel had control over the Guardian Forces in here. Would the GFs be able to be unleashed amid all of Hyne's work in here?

It was a long way up, and the song was becoming even more melancholy. Suddenly, the music ceased, and their eyes were given a "treat" of horrible proportions. Their stomachs became sick almost immediately. The elevator's glass wall gave a glimpse of a process they would come to know as "Lunitization". At first they couldn't believe what they had seen, and it didn't settle quickly at first-- that would come later. They saw hundreds, maybe thousand, of Super Guardsmen who had lost all complexions of human form. Blackened skin. Pus-covered appendages. Daggers fused to the elbow. A constant shrieking. Emaciated and tattered bodies. That was all they could detect. Even Edea had never seen anything like it before.

It was over in an instant, and the music started playing again.

Irvine was so scared he nearly pissed his pants. Zell and Mila clutched each other so tight their knuckles became as white as snow. Selphie was short of breath. Edea stood motionless and was completely lost of thought. They didn't hear the music cease again, but this time the elevator ground to a halt as well and the doors opened.

Premier Oliver Whigham greeted them with a smile. "The bountiful SeeD makes its presence known once again." He broke out into a menacing laugh that chilled them to the bone.

Irvine was about to pull out the Exeter and blow the motherfucker's head off, but Whigham was surrounded by three dozen Galbadian soldiers, and an incredibly large mecha with three gatling guns, a rocket launcher and a grenade launcher hovered above the ground behind him threatening to destroy everyone in one fell swoop if SeeD decided to make an all-out assault. Irvine reluctantly and begrudgingly sheathed his gun and held a trembling Selphie close to him.

"My dear Edea Kramer," Whigham continued, eyeing the former Sorceress lustily, "you have some nerve associating with these cretins. The very ilk that tried to kill you at one point."

Edea pursed his lips. "I think _you_ were one of the main fronts opposed to Seifer and the Galbadians at one point, am I correct?"

"Ah, yes. Indeed. Human interactions are always a strange bedfellow-like way, aren't they?" He gave another chilling life. "I am so glad to see that intolerable fool leader of yours, the so-called Commander of Balamb Garden, is not in our presence at this very moment. The proceedings from here should be simple enough."

"Are you going to kill us?" Edea asked.

"I wish. But my boss wishes not as of this moment."

"Who is your boss?"

"A man both familiar and unfamiliar to you. You all would recognize him instantly. But then again you might not. He has changed a lot in these past few weeks since the disaster."

The group knew immediately who he was talking about, and he laughed wholeheartedly at their expressions. "It is _always_ a pleasure to see the look of innocence get drowned by the tumults of reality." He let out another chilling laugh. "Well, you all had a good run, but the Knight wishes you all a good trek back to the city. We are almost to the east of the great lake now, and Tear's Pointe is within sight. You blew up two-thirds of our power source, but we have all the energy we need to make it there regardless."

Aides of his immediately grabbed the group roughly and shoved them toward a large hatch.

"Think of this as going down a slide. Watch out for the bump at the end," he added with another nasty laugh. The hatch opened, and the aides shoved the five down a long chute that deposited out the broken hatch Irvine had made for them earlier.

They landed hard on the Estharian soil, and the Lunatic Pandora raced on towards that infalliable tomb Tear's Pointe.

Zell beat the ground with his fist, yelling a string of curses that were echoed by his girlfriend and Irvine as well. Selphie just sat on the ground and could not get the Lunatics out of her mind. Edea watched the Pandora move ever closer and could not stop the tears from streaming down her face.


	33. Awakening

_While carnage below,_

_Visions of a dream up high_

_Cresting space station_

The Earth is a hapless orbiting sphere, gently resting in the palm of Eden's hand- or so the legends have it, since none have reportedly ever seen the Guardian Force. However, the Earth is a pretty object to behold from the paned patented space-glass windows of the _Excalibur_, Esthar's and the planet's only space station. Seven miles long, yet only a quarter of a mile contained a livable space. The ship was designed to look like a Y-shaped scrap of metal, fused together with a combination of succubus energy and molded materials from Esthar's plentiful minerals and resources. The two protruding arms contained both the transmission of feed and communication down on the planet as well as the entrapment of space satellites and shuttles coming to and from the _Excalibur_ and the planet.

There it sat a beacon roughly a mile away from the Moon- and the dreaded tomb that encapsulated that ancient Succubus herself.

"Hmm..." stirred the controller with his face glued to the monitor.

"What's the matter?" asked the other, his feet propped on the table and his body reclined way back in the chair. The vast expansive sea of stars illuminated their view outside the pane-glass windows. Some were larger than others and different colors, yet all of them shimmered like coins in a well. There were at least a dozen monitors on the panel before them, half devoted to the stability of the ship and the other half to the stability of Adel's tomb.

"A large transport shuttle is approaching at five hundred knots."

The reclining controller quickly shuffled closer to the monitor, almost spilling his coffee. "Shall we recover them?"

"Of course. What do you expect?"

Both controllers turned behind them, surprised that the President was still here and not on his routine check on the tomb. As usual, the main man was drinking a hard liquor and tea at the same time- a frightful combination that made him extremely loopy at times.

"A-Aye, sir," affirmed the first controller.

"Are these the special personnel we were briefed on earlier, sir?" asked the other.

"Should be," confirmed the President. "One of them is strangely comatose, the scientists at the Lunar Gate are in the process of sending up the reports. The other two are Balamb Garden SeeDs, and the male is the Commander of the unit."

"A Commander of SeeD?" exclaimed the controller, with an astonished look in his eye.

"Oh yes, a very distinguished young man. I am surprised myself. He has demonstrated great skills at the expense of great costs on Centra and in uniting a previously neutral and reluctant Fisherman's Horizon. He is something else."

"Hmm... SeeD," pondered the second controller, "be any problems, you think?"

"We better put some troops on standby, just in case," nodded the first.

The President chuckled. "I have a feeling we won't need to."

"Oh brother, _that_ reassurance is lovely. We'd better station them all the more."

The President dribbled gin on his chin. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys."

The two controllers giggled and tried to hide their smirking faces.

The President shook his head and set his cup down. "I'm gonna go check up on Adel. My Vice and State will entertain you two shortly. Take care of the rest, will you?"

"Yes, sir," said the controllers in unison.

"Recovery team," ordered the first through his mic, "manuever into positon."

* * *

A dozen astronauts of the Recovery unit ventured out of the lower docking port of the _Excalibur_ and manueverd their jetpacks in a crescent moon shape around the portside arm. The shuttle was in range to be picked up by the sensitivity magnet at the tip of the arm. Upon signal, a thick green beam ejected out the pincer-like grip at the end and entangled the shuttle in its tractor beam. Immediately, the shuttle slowed to four hundred then three hundred then two hundred knots in three seconds. The sudden contraction of speed burst the farthest portions of the beam apart, as it was meant to do. The beam was broken up into nine partitions, and each broken partition forced the shuttle and its cargo to come to a desirable level of handle. Near the fifth partition it was down to moving at sixty knots, and the metallic hide instantly cooled down to a touchable grip- coming out of the earth's atmosphere would have otherwise burned the shuttle to a crisp had not the Estharians perfected titanium liquid to become pure metal.

The shuttle hit the eighth partition and came to a floating halt, where the ninth partition stabilized it into a horizontal position, and the astronauts surrounded it on all sides. A durable handle ridge coated three sides of it, and the twelve men grabbed a steady hold and propelled their jetbacks for the docking bay. A safe and speedy process.

Several dozen more workers were busy unloading cargo into the ship's central storage unit, while several dozen more were busy sending crates back to the earth. However, the bay was quite big enough to store the shuttle, and the astronauts propelled in an L-shape around several of the bigger vessels and crates and inserted the shuttle into an available slot. Controllers in the command center immediately grabbed a hold of the shuttle and slowly cashed it in. The astronauts went back to help with the unloading of other crates, and specialty technicians took over for cutting off the "cold-sleep" belying Squall, Quistis and Rinoa.

The "thawing" process, as they called it, transpired at the same time as the shuttle coasted its way along a smooth converyor belt through the ship and to its final storage space. Two of the three occupants came out of the sleep in a groggy manner. They heard a technician say in a joking manner, "This is gonna feel a bit itchy."

Squall's lips were numb to move, but he managed to say, "_Itchy?"_ before crying out in a short irritated pain. His skin had become blueish-green from the "cold-sleep" and now whatever process they were using to "thaw" him was zapping up all the embedded ice that had covered his body and frozen the hairs on his and neck together. It was a strange, er, itchy process.

He heard Quistis moan beside him. "...The.. hell is going on here?"

"It looks like we made it," he answered her. He noticed Rinoa still there across from him, strapped in her bed. Odine and the other scientists had refused to relay the results of his tests on her, and Squall was beyond irritated with the whole matter. And this process in the spacestation was taking way too fucking long for him to be fully at ease. At least Quistis was here as the sole reason for keeping him sane.

"We... finally made it-ow, dammit!" Quistis started to say but shouted, along with Squall, as the technicians made one more final adjustment to their stats.

Then, suddenly, the surroundings became lighter, and the "thawing" ceased. "There we go," said one of the technicians. "All is done."

"Thank Eden," Quistis said.

"You don't like itchy feelings?" Squall asked.

"_You_ can roll around in the ant piles if you want to, but I'll just watch if that's okay."

"Suit yourself," he managed to chuckle, bringing a relieved smile to her face. She was sick of seeing him frowning and depressing all the time.

A loud succession of sounds alerted their attention, and Rinoa was unstrapped from her bed. The ceiling of the shuttle above them unhooked, and quite unexpectedly the three of them lost their gravitational pull. Quistis let out a short cry and Squall even grunted as they and Rinoa were lifted up into the air. They rose above the shuttle and took note of the cramped room they had entered. It was a sideways glance that almost made them throw up- that and the combination of suddenly losing their gravity for the first time in their life.

"Lock on to A, B and C's body vector," ordered a droning technician.

"A Locked on," responded one, and Squall felt his body tug to the southeast.

"B Locked on," responded another and Rinoa went to the opposite way.

"And C is locked on." Quistis came sharply down the middle and landed on succinctly on her two feet. At the same time, she yakked and felt really embarrassed.

Squall felt the same way but he somehow held it in.

The sideways angle reversed itself through the process, and Squall had to refocus his alignment in his brain. When he did that, the door to the room opened and what looked like the head technician entered. His smock was white but had golden trimming running down the side of his pants. He had a bowl-shaped haircut that was strawberry blonde, and he had very defined jowls. An aide of his in traditional Estharian elitest colors of sky blue with checkered patterns of dark blue woven in scooted past the two of them and went straight for Rinoa.

Squall kept a steady eye on him, but he managed to shrug off such overly protective thoughts and addressed the head technician. "I'm sure you already know, but my name is Squall Leonhart, Commander of Balamb Garden. This is my head advisor and State diplomat, Quistis Trepe. I have a letter of agreement with the President of Esthar's ambassador, Mr. Donald Wise, who has agreed for me to speak with Ellone."

"Indeed I know both you and Miss Trepe, Mr. Squall," the head technician said politely with a genuine smile on his face. "My name is Piet." He reached out to shake Squall's hand. "Welcome to the _Excalibur_."

Squall warmly shook it, and Quistis did the same.

"Hmmm.." said Piet's aide, and Squall and Quistis looked at him.

"She's quite young, what like seventeen, eighteen? Is she dead?"

"Motherfucker!" Squall shouted unexpectedly, startling the aide who backed up immediately into a wall. Squall still had his Punishment blade on his hip, and the aide had read glowing newspaper stories about the Commander's exploits in SeeD well enough to realize who he was dealing with. Piet registered calm with Squall's outburst and even smiled at the young man's enthusiasm. "I don't think you should be touching her," Squall added.

Quistis tapped him on the shoulder. "Take it easy. Nothing's going to happen to her here."

"Even so," he uttered.

"Even so," she said to him sternly.

"I understand the situation perfectly, Mr. Squall," Piet said in his polite manner. "Let's have you take her to the Med lab, and we'll talk more about it there."

"Sounds good," Squall said, and he moved immediately to scoop her up in his arms, and the group left together and followed Piet down the winding hallways to the Med lab. It was a short walk, and the scenery wasn't all that pretty to look at for the start. The Med lab, however, opened up the view a lot and introduced more people-workers, astronauts, sightseers, billionaires-all mingling together and conversing about useless topics. Most paid no heed to the SeeDs and the unconscious Rinoa, but several remarked about the exquisiteness of Squall's gunblade and Quistis's perky breasts.

Piet and his aide escorted them into the lab and motioned for one of the sentries inside to open up the main lab room. After some keystrokes, they entered the room which was almost a 360 view of open space. Parts of the Moon were visible as well as some large octagonal shape standing out in front of it. Quistis was immediately drawn to the vast black expanse twinkled everywhere with sharp white pinpricks of stars, and she continued to ooh and ahh for minutes on end. Squall, however, could hardly care less. The sentry and Piet watched with some degree of cluelessness as the Commander gently placed Rinoa on the lab table, which resembled another bed. It even had a pillow for her pretty raven-haired head. Once again, Squall Leonhart fell into a passionate stupor: he looked her up and down and again was consumed by her beauty and the coldness her body radiated from the strange coma she was plagued with. Oh, how he wanted to tell her how he felt about her. How he wanted to express it!

"The crew is bound by duty to see that she is properly watched over, Mr. Squall," Piet reassured. He placed a hand on Squall's shoulder. "Everything will be alright. Come, let us go to the control center."

Squall nodded his head after a few more moments and rose to his feet. The bed underneath Rinoa had a sliding mechanism that slid all the way to within half a foot from her chin. A plexiglass shield came down slowly to cover her face, and a green light flashed on a panel of the bed to indicate that all systems were "clean". Quistis patted Squall's shoulder and hurried after Piet.

Squall took one more long look at Rinny and then noticed the sentry. Something odd about him unnerved Squall. He slowly walked up to him and jabbed his finger to within an inch of the sentry's face, to which the man made a delayed reaction. "Mark my words," Squall said, "if anything happens to her, it is _your _ass."

The sentry reluctantly nodded, and Squall reluctantly left the room.

He found Piet and Quistis waiting for him, and Piet had her Shooting Star in his hands. "The girl in blue had this on her when the shuttle came aboard. What would you like me to do with this?"

Squall stood motionless for a bit staring at the dart gun. He had to kick himself for remembering every single detail about her. "I'll take it. For safekeeping."

"Very well then," Piet said, handing it to him. "Follow me, you two. The control room's just up ahead."

Squall fastened the dart gun neatly into one of his belts and followed with heavy legs after Quistis and Piet and through the throng of mingling people milling about the _Excalibur_. A few armed troops surveyed the crowd and kept watch against any unruly behavior, but the crowd paid little attention. Piet led them through the main room and then past another room with a staircase leading up to the second floor observatory deck and then finally into the control room. Some of the workers there were busy running around checking out the monitors and yelling different pieces of jargon to and fro. However, the thing that arrested all their attention was the presence of the Moon. The large pane-glass windows revealed the gray Moon clear as crystal, and it was enough to make Quistis go ecstatic with craziness.

She ran a few steps forward toward one of the panes, exclaiming, "What a beautiful sight! Look, Squall, what do you think?"

Even through his inner depression, he expressed an awestruck curiousity of the sight. He was lost for words.

"Unfortunately," said one of the controllers, with his eyes glued to one particular screen, "this is no time to get excited."

"Why not?" Quistis asked.

The controller motioned for her with his finger. "Check out this monitor here."

Squall followed her to the computer screen, and at first they were confused. The image was of the Moon's surface- a certain part, roughly around its southwest sphere. Three large craters were distinct markings strafing across the image.

"I don't understand," said Quistis.

"Oh yeah?" replied the controller. "Let's zoom in." He fiddled the knob to the right and left, and the image zoomed in once. It cut off one of the craters and focused on the valley between the other two. He fiddled the knob again, and the image focused heavily on the southern portion of the topmost crater. A thin strange filament of reddish color came in stark contrast against the gray. He fiddled a third time, and the image focused solely on the base of the crater and the red goo. Strange thing was, though, that the goo seemed to be moving.

"The fuck is that?" Squall asked.

"My thoughts exactly," Quistis said.

"You two are SeeD, right?" the controller asked, raising an eyebrow.

Squall and Quistis looked at him sharply, and the controller receded back from his arrogant stance.

"It looks like a monster cloud," Quistis analyzed. "The shape of the goo-like color and the contours of the reddish color are too striking to be anything else."

The controller fixed his position in his chair. "It _is_ monsters. The lunar world is full of it. They inhabit the craters after travelling on asteroids flowing throughout the worlds of the universe, and they make their homes within the core of the Moon. Lately, however, within the past hour or two they have been congregating in this one spot. This is... an unseemly sight."

"Could this mean...?" Quistis started to say.

"I think you assume correctly, Miss Trepe. History is about to repeat itself again. The Vice President and the Secretary of State of Esthar have been dispatched back to Esthar to get ready for security."

"What?" Squall asked.

"Remember from studies, Squall?" Quistis said.

"What, about the administrations of Esthar?"

"No," she said, conking him on the head, "about the Lunar Cry."

He sighed irritably, "Yes, but right now I'm not in a sane mood."

"No kidding," the controller said, "nothing is going to be sane in a very short time from now. The Lunar Cry is starting."

"But how?" Quistis asked.

The controller looked at her funny.

"Believe me, sir, I am more familiar about the processes than my Commander here. Mostly because I'm a book junkie. But I don't understand how all of a sudden it could be happening again."

"The Lunatic Pandora has arisen," Piet said suddenly. He was looking at the Moon with a severe distasteful expression. Several of the workers around him recoiled from the mentioning of the word before reluctantly going back to work.

Squall and Quistis looked at him and said in unison, "The Lunatic Pandora?"

"Yes. Someone got that thing salvaged again. It's the only explanation as to why the monsters are congregating. Our data analyses on the Sorceress Adel's tomb are reading off the charts, too. It sounds like someone on the earth is trying to revive her once again."

"That cannot happen," Squall said.

"Damn fucking right," Piet said, against staff protocol. "That would be a nightmare scenario. I lived through the war two decades ago. Don't want to see a second one come to pass."

Squall took a step towards him. "Piet. Why is Rinoa in a coma?"

"Odine has refused to let us disclose the test results." He said it as straitlaced as humanly possible, so much so as to deflate most of Squall's buildup of irritated energy.

As a result, the Commander gave a heavy defeated sigh. "I expected as much."

He could tell Piet gave an internal sigh of relief, but he could not fight it anymore. Squall very reluctantly nodded and cursed Odine's existence.

"I can tell you right now, though, Mr. Squall that Rinoa Heartilly is in a dire strait, but we are working overtime to make sure she turns out fine."

That was unsettling to Squall, but he noticed a few armed guards come into the control center. He knew when things were shitty, but on the President's ship he couldn't risk such a manuever. He again reluctantly nodded.

Piet unfolded Don Wise's letter and read it. "So, you want to see Ellone?"

Squall jerked his head up: a faint sign of hope.

"She's upstairs in the observatory deck."

_Thank fucking Eden... if he exists that is_. "Thank you, Piet."

"No problem. Spend as much time as you like. If you need anything to eat or drink, we have plenty of it."

"Mm.. food," Quistis said, closing her eyes and rubbing her stomach.

Piet laughed. "Yeah, there's a pub in the main room, where all the revelers-or the dancing Balamb fish as we call them here- are mingling around. We serve a whole bunch of stuff, to meet a variety of tastes. Help yourselves out." He winked at Squall. "Heavy amounts of gin and vodka, too."

That made him feel a little better. Squall could always go for some gin.

But first, Ellone.

Against Quistis's moans, he pursued on over to the staircase leading up to the second floor. However, she made quite a fuss, so he told her to find a seat in the pub and he would bring Elle back down to see her to which Quistis agreed. Squall sighed a relief and made his way up the ladder past Moon-admiring revelers abound. Thankfully for them, they could not see yet the growing danger consuming a portion of the crater-strewn lunar field. Squall had a sickening thought: the Estharians were keeping the revelers in the dark for as long as possible while they worked on a feeble containment strategy. "All governments are the fucking same," he muttered to himself.

There were more people up on the observation deck than down below, but one woman stood out from the rest. She found him almost immediately as he found her. In a stunning white dress, Ellone shone out above all the other females in attendance. She wore a pearl necklace that glinted in the Moonlight and white sandals laced with three rubies in each. Her hair was braided in the back, and she looked like a princess herself- a very stunning image to the plainness he had come to remember her by. He was ashamed at himself for thinking that she gave Rinoa a run for the money.

He met her before she could stand up to greet him, but she did anyway and gave him a long hug. "Squall, it's been a long time."

"It has, Elle, it has."

They held each other a little longer and slowly parted. He could feel some jealous eyes on him, and he quickly pulled himself together. "Quistis is here, too."

"She is!" Ellone exclaimed. "Wonderful. But where?"

"Oh, she said she was hungry."

"Hungry?"

"I know. The nerve right?"

"Well, I kinda am myself."

"I told her to reserve us a table at the pub. We should meet her there."

"Well," she giggled at his sincereness, "lead the way, Mr. Commander."

"Com-How did you know that?"

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "We get _all_ the newspapers in Esthar. After the Estharian navy fended off the Galbadians over in Centra, the President made me a loyal advisor and secretary to him and I started reading every bit of news you got yourself into." She turned to admire him a bit. "You are definitely something else, I say."

He nervously chuckled and looked at the floor.

"Well, come on, Mr. Commander, don't be so shy now."

"Right, right," he laughed. "It's just been so long, ya know." He flinched a little at the Raijin influence.

She giggled some more and pushed him along through the crowd.

* * *

Both girls squealed when they met each other, and they hugged each other for about as long Squall had done. Then all three of them had sat down at the table. For some reason, Quistis had remembered what kind of food Ellone loved to eat so much: grouper and mashed potatoes with gravy.

"Quisty! How did you remember that?" Ellone exclaimed with joy.

"Unlike some people," she said, indicating a certain male of the trio, "I remember _every_thing."

Ellone laughed at Squall, who shook his head and started eating his grouper, which incidentally was his favorite dish as well. An old familiar delicacy he and Elle always ate together back at the orphanage. Quistis had a juicy tenderloin that Squall kept trying to steal a bit of, but was met with constant fork smacks.

"Oh, look there's the President!" Ellone said, noticing his astronaut-clad shape near the tomb of Adel.

"What's he doing?" Quistis asked.

"Making sure the Sorceress is still asleep in her tomb."

"Didn't Laguna kill her?" Squall asked.

"What you saw in that flashback was a very severe blow he gave her. She was able to retreat, but she was so gravely wounded that her bodyguards could not protect her fully. The Estharian resistance eventually slaughtered her protection and jettisoned her up into space to keep a close eye."

"They couldn't totally kill her?"

"No. I never fully asked, but Adel for some reason could not be wholly killed off. I think you would have to ask the President that sometime back in the city."

After a few minutes of eating, Ellone cleared her throat and asked, "So what brings you two up here?"

"I, er, _we_ are in need of your help," Squall replied.

Quistis giggled at his correction.

"Oh-hoh, in need of my help, eh?" Ellone laughed. "Oh, Squall, you kid all the time. You and Quisty, and while we're at it Irvy, Sephie and Zelly have all been helps, big helps, for me."

"How so?" Quistis asked.

"I saw a whole different world from the propaganda I had heard regarding Laguna, Kiros and Ward. Their defection from the Galbadian military and the subsequent slander they got from the villagers of Winhill were too obscure for me to take as truth. By having you all as vicarious bodies, I was able to see just how much of a hero those three men were. Especially for Laguna- that last act he made against Adel. Raine would have loved to see that."

Squall and Quistis stopped eating. "Is..." Squall started. "Is Laguna dead?"

Ellone slowly ate her food and did not answer immediately. "He... He is in a different world now."

Quistis stopped her eating all together, and Squall stared off into space. Not that he minded the bumbling klutz any heed, but there was something just plain wrong at that statement that bothered him to no end.

Ellone sensed the sudden weight. "I meant that in a good way." She noticed that didn't seem to cheer them up at all. "Actually, if you knew what I meant, you wouldn't be so down at all."

They looked at her for a ready explanation, but she hastened to skip it. "I hope the experiences I put you five through didn't upset you in anyway. I apologize for the piercing sounds that split your ears a bit. And the sudden whiteness of light that affected your eyes."

"That was crazy for the first time," Quistis acknowledged.

"Isn't it? The first time I made that transition, my body felt all itchy afterwards like a whole bunch of mosquitos started biting me all at once. Then, after a while , I sort of got used to it, but I tell you that first time was un-real."

"Oh, let me tell you," Quistis smiled, "we were at the forest surrounding Galbadia Garden when I went through it the first time. I was Ward that time, and it was the time when he got his throat slit by the Estharians. It actually felt like _I_ had gotten my throat slit! Oh, that was the weirdest feeling in the world, Elle. I never experienced anything so strange."

"I can imagine. When I saw what happened to him, and to Kiros and Laguna too, I wept. They had fought so brilliantly that I could do nothing else other than weep. They were strange, cavorting men, but they were heroes all three of them and greatly admired by many people that they came in contact with."

"Except the Galbadians."

"Heh, yeah, except for them. Probably still to this day."

"And the Winhillians?"

"Oh... I dunno. Raine had a lot to do with settling their ease. She's gone, sadly, too."

"Raine's gone?"

"Yeah, she died through childbirth."

"Chil-She and Laguna?"

"Yep," Ellone said with a big smile on her face. A little too big, Squall thought.

"Oh! Boy or girl?"

"Boy."

"What happened to him?"

Ellone hesitated. "Without a mother or father, he grew isolated, depressed and sort of sank away from reality. Nobody knows what happened to him."

Again, Quistis stopped eating her food, although she was almost done with it. "Damn, Elle, why all the depressing stuff, huh?"

"Oh, Quisty, no need to be glum. Who knows? Maybe that boy can have a proper good ending some day."

"Hopefully so."

Squall grunted.

"Why you being quiet over there, Squally?" Ellone teased.

"Ellone, we need your help," he responded.

"You said that once before."

"I know. It's about Rinoa."

"Rinoa?"

"Oh, yeah, our other passenger in the shuttle."

"Oh. The one who is in a coma?"

"Yes. You told me at one time ago that people cannot change the past."

Ellone wiped her lips from the grouper. "Right. However, you can find out things about the past that you never knew. That is why you five were such a great help to me. I was able to find out not just how much of a hero Laguna was but for how much that I was loved and cared for so much. I was really a special part of his life. With that knowledge, you can discern certain things about the present that could be of some aid to you. You're the one changes ultimately. Not the past."

Squall frowned. "Hmph. There's no way to change the past?"

"I'm afraid not," she answered sadly.

"No. I have to find out for myself."

Quistis widened her eyes.

"Take me to Rinoa's past," Squall said suddenly, startling Ellone. "I need to see the past through Rinoa's eyes and find out what exactly happened to her back at Galbadia Garden all those weeks ago."

"Do..." Ellone started, but couldn't finish. Such a direct order.

"I need to warn her- or tell her- or...something!"

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "You want to save her."

He gulped. That was the word.

"You don't want to lose her, do you?"

"No. Not at all."

Ellone sucked in breath and looked pained. Her eyes sadly bore the remark that Squall did not want to hear, but he had to force himself to accept.

"Squall, I can't. I don't know who she is."

Squall averted his eyes.

"I told you. I can only send people I know in the present back into people I knew in the past."

"There has to be a way," he said to a wall.

Ellone and Quistis looked at him shuffling ideas around in his head.

He snapped his head back to her. "She's resting in the Med lab." He saw her sigh, but he pressed further. "Please, you have to see her at least. Maybe something will pop in there?"

Ellone sighed deeper again. "You were always as persistent as Quisty."

He only looked at her.

"All right, Squall. I'll come with you."

"Thank you."

* * *

The Lunatic Pandora crested above the tombs of aged monsters that once roamed the great plains of Esthar: Malboros, Imps, Chimeras, Blood Drains, Ezekiels, Iron Giants. Thousands of them encased in granite slabs encircled a seven-headed shrine of an ancient Sorceress in the dead center. Over each tomb, a faint yello light lit up as soon as the Pandora's shadow crossed its breadth. Faint howlings and excessive monster shrieks emanated fiercely from inside the tombs. Cracks appeared in the seven-headed shrine as the Pandora drew near. A ray of mist enveloped from the base of the shrine and wrapped the site in a welcoming mist. A tinge of crimson blood plagued the mist with fury.

Zell, Milena, Irvine and Selphie watched with horrible fascination while Edea slumped to her knees and started praying incantations to Hyne to stop the madness. She threw in good words to Eden, but she knew it was all in vain.

"Oh, people, it might be best to get out of here...at once," Zell weakly said. His legs were like jelly, and Mila was clawing his arm so badly he was afraid she was going to tear it off.

The Lunatic Pandora finally halted directly above the shrine and a morbid light shone on both ends of its massive shaft.

* * *

In the Med lab, the sentry was being naughty. As soon as Squall had left, he had meandered his way over to the comatose Rinoa all stealthily and scruffily. Since he couldn't undo the bed mechanism, he resorted to pressing his face against the glass and kissing the portion right above her lips. Her body was covered up, but he had a wild imagination, and he had plenty of memories of what she looked like stored inside her head. So, after he was thrice done with his "duty", he walked back to his station and thought happy thoughts.

Until, that is, when he saw the green light shift to red. The glass shield protecting her face lifted up, and the bed blanket pulled away. Steam rolled up slowly and a very ominous mist and light enveloped the girl's skin. He could almost hear the faint tinneys of a chior playing somewhere in the back of his head. A beautiful melody, he thought.

The girl's leg moved!

"Whoa, what the fu-" He stopped speaking.

The girl slowly sat up. She was sweating, her clothes were rumpled, her breasts were halfway showing, her raven hair was plastered on her face covering her features. It was a dream come true!

Slowly, her hair parted and she lifted her face towards him.

His pleasure quickly changed to terror, and he rushed to alert the authorities. He managed to slam his fist into the alarm, but that was all he could do.

* * *

The party atmosphere ceased to an immediate halt. Klaxons rang out in every hall, and the jubilant ceiling lights even started flashing red warning flares. A mechanical voice screeched incessantly: "_Emergency at Med Station, emergency at Med Station. All hands proceed towards containment, immediately. All hands proceed towards containment, immeidately._"

Squall had violently stood up from the dinner table, knocking his chair into someone seated behind him. However through the din of the turmoil, the man paid Squall no lip for the act. Estharian soldiers and sentries ran past confused patrons and travellers towards the medical bay to stop this mysterious foe, and the Balamb Garden Commander and his top assistant were deftly afraid of what was going on.

"God damn it all," Squall cursed aloud. "Rinoa's in that medical bay!"

"What do you suppose it is?" Quistis asked.

Squall held Rinoa's weapon steady by his hip, and he pulled out his weapon to the ready. "I don't know, but it hasn't met me pissed yet," he said confidently and made a beeline past the large stunned crowd. He turned his head sharply back to them. "Quistis, watch Ellone!"

"Dammit, Squall," Quistis muttered, "always so heady."

He heard several officers point and yell at him to get back in cover, but Squall produced his authoritative badge and SeeD card and they reluctantly let him pass. There was a grand cacophany of yelling among the troops advancing toward the medical bay, but with each advancing step there was a considerably increasing new sound echoing and reverberating off the space ship's walls. An inhuman, fiendish growl combined with the shredding sounds of a lumber yard were growing intense from within the Med Station, and the Estharian troops were growing weary. They were amazed, however, at Squall's reckless forward motions. He too could hear the strange noises, but the woman he cared so much for was lying in repose back there, and he'd be damned to let her be wasted like that.

He was a yard away from the doors when they were blown apart and the walls of the corridor cracked wide in three places. The entire spaceship gave a belching lurch shutting off the electricity momentarily and ceasing the incessant klaxon noise. Dead bodies of the sentries that had guarded Rinoa were flung like dolls into the opposite wall, their heads missing and their torsos severely burned and slashed with deep claw marks and teeth marks. Blood could be seen in a mirror's reflection scraped over almost every single part in the Med room. Squall froze in his tracks and so did the rest of the squad. All of them held their rifles up, and Squall held his gunblade up in a rigid pose.

The beast that stood inside the room finally walked out. And Squall about shit his pants.

The slender, 5'3" beauty with raven hair calmly walked out of the medical room and shone utmost radiance and luminence that immediately lowered the weapons of every person in that corridor. Her head was down with the shoulder-length hair completely concealing her face. The pendant around her neck holding the Griffin ring of Squall's highest possession and splendor sparkled radiantly in the red hall light. A thrilling and magnificent woman-corrupted by a sadistic and perverted rage.

Rinoa lifted her face for all to see. Her normal snow-white face, tinged with the familiar and lovely pinkish tone, was hideously disfigured and bloodies. Her eyes were gouged out in a mask-like appearance. It was a magical spell, but one of haunting reverberations that signalled she was under a deep stress and imbued with a severely destructive power. That was indeed her blood from her eyes streaming down her cheeks and down the sides of her neck and in between the valley of her breasts- causing her deep and visible pain. She made herky-jerky moves with her arms and lower back. She emitted a constant, child-like giggle that froze the blood of all the men gathered around her. Her lips formed a deep and wide smile that went from ear down to the other and looked ready to cut off the lower part of her jaw.

Even though her eyes were erased for the moment, she seemed to lock onto Squall and encapsulate him in a mesmerizing stance- almost as if she was "shielding" him. The others around him did not feel the lock, and they after a brief moment of bedazzlement ordered a salvo of bullets to penetrate her skin. That was a wrong move. She made a hideous giggle and jerked her head sharply to the side as the fifteen guns sounded off. The barrage of bullets swept around Squall and came to within an inch of her body, but they halted. The men watched in horror, as she giggled some more and blew a cold blue breath over all the bullets. The little death marks turned around 180 degrees and then with a snap of her finger flew back into their hosts and splattered all fifteen men into shredded corpses.

Squall dropped his gunblade and remained standing, horrifyingly awestruck by this creature who was not the quaint Rinoa Heartilly that he knew.

The she-creature stood motionless in the bloody hallway, daintily swishing her arms back and forth and humming a frightening tune that sounded eerily similar to the choruses playing around Edea when she was a Sorceress.

"Rinoa," he said weakly.

She stopped humming immediately and jerked her head towards him. He gulped, as it looked like a tiny spark of fire rose in both of her eyes. In quick succession, she moved in several hyperkinetic stages up to a position right in front of his face. It was like she was a ghost in her movement, fading in and out of sight and changing the hallway temperature from stifling hot to desperately cold in a matter of seconds. Everything went haywire in the _Excalibur_: the light dimmed, the hallways seemed to narrow then widen sharply, and Squall grew very dizzy. He blinked a bit and there she was, looking at him really closely.

Again, he managed weakly, "Rinoa."

She gave a scoffing sound and placed her hand on his chest. It was all very quick. A sharp pain appeared on his abdomen and then he lost gravity again. The next thing he knew, some of his flesh was being peeled off his stomach and a sharp pain hit his upper back. He lost consciousness for a minute and then awoke to a distant sound of yelling. Rinoa was gone, but the shouts determined her location for him.

However, he found himself several yards down the hallway doubled up like a corkscrew and blood dripping out on his front and his back. From his position he could tell that more people had met the same fate as those fifteen soldiers, and he could see people huddling near the edges of the ship in tight bunches, looks of terror etched into their faces. Gritting his teeth to the point of grinding them into mush, he hauled himself to his feet and painted little droplets of blood all over the deck. He went to retrieve the Punishment and painfully made his way out of the corridor and into the pub and reveller deck.

The tables had been overturned. About twenty more people, men and women alike, had been either decapitated, maimed with bullets, knives or other objects or had suffered sharp gut wounds to which they were now suffering a long and painful death. The surviving ones looked to Squall pleadingly for help, yet he hadn't the slightest damn clue of what to do. Rinoa was not herself.

She was fucking possessed!

The trail of blood and carnage went to the control room. Ellone and Quistis were not in plain sight. Cursing from his own wounds and to that fact, he hobbled his way into the center and found a strange sight.

Piet had suffered a similar wound that he had suffered. The two head controllers were both dead. Several aides hid underneath counters and tables. Ellone and Quistis remained untouched but very unnerved. Ellone came immediately to Squall's side and gave him a bitter-tasting Potion that started to heal his open wounds.

"Squall..." Quistis said, weakly and frightened. "What is she-how-what-" She sputtered a few incoherent sentences, but she couldn't connect them all.

Rinoa stood motionless in the center of the command center, in between the main panel of machinery and monitors and the half-dead, half-paralyzed crew and SeeD members. In her abnormal state, she could almost turn her head completely around in a circle. She had resumed her singing now that most of her body was coated in the blood of the people she had murdered in the ship. She rolled her head sickly over at Squall and with that eyeless face studied him vigourously up and down and laughed some more.

An equally disturbing sound seem to occur outside the spaceship in the murkiness of space-from the monolithic tomb of Adel. Rinoa snapped her head around to the pane-glass panel and stopped her singing. For a moment she did nothing, then she advanced quickly to the panel and studied the monitor.

Squall wanted to do something, but the Potion had a numbing effect, brief as it was, and he couldn't do anything.

"Sonofabitch," Piet grumbled, causing Squall, Ellone and Quistis to look at him. "She's looking at the device that deactivates the perimeter seal around Adel's tomb."

"What do you mean?" Squall demanded.

"I mean," Piet grunted as he reached a sitting position, "she is going to attempt to release Adel."

"No!" Squall, Ellone and Quistis shouted in unison.

Rinoa snapped her head back to them and hissed like a cat. A thick force drove all three to the ground and constricted their muscles. A heaviness beset them, and they felt crushed by an unseen weight. Rinoa studied her handiwork and laughed some more before returning back to the panel. She slowly held out her hand, not touching the equipment, and closed her eyes. Instantly the panel electrified and burst into short spate of flames. The monitors unlocked the first seal of Adel's barrier and opened the way for the second barrier to be unlocked. She opened her eyes and felt the powerful Succubus calling her out to meet her. She nodded to the tomb and turned around. There was a special room with her a suit just for her in the back of the ship. She looked at the three people writhing on the ground and released the suppressing hold. They stopped writing and looked at her cautiously. She kept a coy eye on them, despite her wretched face, as she walked jerkily moved past them and out of the command center.

Squall struggled violently to get up and managed to cough up blood in the process. He turned to follow her, but Quistis let out a horrified gasp. "Squall! You can see it from here!"

Ellone made a shout, too, and Squall turned around to see. He let out one himself.

The Moon was overflowing with monsters. In such short of a time, the Lunar Cry had congregated swarms of creatures through three-quarters of the Moon's surface. A sea of red and yellow coated the gray craterous surface of the Lunar World. Around the tomb housing that despicable Witch, an icy sheen of succubus energy was connecting it to the vacuum encompassing the Moon. An aura of light was also piericing out of the atmosphere of the earth, snaking its way towards the hideous action. The Lunatic Pandora must have been at the vital location.

"It's finally starting," Piet said, weakly standing up.

"The Lunar Cry," Squall said, his voice ringing hollow.

"We are mightily short on time, Mr. Squall. We need to stop her at all costs. She is hell-bent on freeing Adel. In order for her to do so, she needs to go outside of this space station."

"Out there to free here?"

"Correct, Squall. The Level Two Seal is directly located on Adel's tomb to prevent a terrorist-type action from any Tyrannical or dispirted faction in the city of Esthar."

"Holy shit!" yelled several people at once from further in the pub area.

Piet, Squall, Ellone and Quistis said the same thing as they looked outside in the vast expanse of space. The light from the earth had penetrated the center of the Moon's red blob. A dark blue orb of light had undulated and was now rising off the Moon's surface, its exponential growth fueled by the rising tide of monsters ravaging around its base. So dynamic, so powerful, so penetrating the forces of the earth's light and the Moon's darkness collided and broke free. Intense heat added the spark, and a devastating stream of energy spewed towards the earth. Monster after monster, hundreds of dozens of them, rode along the succubus energy train toward the unknowing earth. All four continents and all its many islands were about to be hit by a tsunami of the world's most terrible nightmares.

And Rinoa was about to free the Queen of them all.

"Motherfucker," Squall muttered. He repeated that several times as he ran past the other three and down towards the gear and logistics station. Everyone in the space ship now was frightened beyond all measure. Intense and livid conversations heated up immensely. Statements that Squall loathed intensely were out of his control- some people called for the execution of Rinoa on the spot, despite her state of being. He was determined to free her no matter the cost. He also wanted to know where this fucking President was. He didn't like the fact that this bumbling stooge was out lollygagging in space while thirty-five of his crew were killed and possibly many more on the earth after the tsunami hit. He feared for the livlihoods of many that would be crushed in the next twenty minutes- at least he figured that's how long it would take for the plume to get there.

He found the gear room and stepped inside to find more blood and horror awaiting him. The three men huddled up after their excursion out in space had had their bodies dismembered and flung about the room. _What the hell is wrong with here?_ he routinely berated inside his head. He heard the giggling, muffled this time a bit, and looked up. Behind a panel, she stood swaying from side to side all decked up in an astronaut garb.

"Damn it! Rinoa!"

She shook her head, released a panel behind her and let herself get swept up in the vacuum current to take her through the chute and out into the final frontier.

He felt the recoil as well and he hastened to shut out the valve, lest he was sucked into space to a quick and humiliating death.

"Son of a fucking bitch!" he shouted, slamming his fist into the side of the wall.

To his pure luck, his little fit of anger released a locker door on the side with a astronaut uniform conviently his size. At that moment, he had a feeling that there was a higher power. But then he realize that he was fooling himself, and it was just the right place at the right time. He hastened back up and went to suit himself up. He secured both of the weapons tightly on his hips, which caused precious minutes to be wasted securing the suit in the process, and he cursed himself over and over and over. Tight in the crotch, the helmet too bulky and the shoes too cumbersome he nevertheless became a rookie astronaut and proceeded to the chute that she had gone up in.

He found her near the top, and cursed himself again. The astronaut suit was linked up to speech communication with other astronaut suits, and after fine-tuning the cords he was able to hook up to her suit.

"Rinoa! Stop what you're doing at once!" he yelled vainly.

She only responded with more singing, which only infuriated him more- all the even more infuriating, since she did have a pretty voice under all that horrific beast-like mannerism.

The top of the chute opened unexpectedly, revealing the deep valley of space, and the President himself finally appeared! Accompanied by three aides. Squall heard his distinct chatter, but for some reason he kept his ears tuned to Rinoa's playful laughter. The President recognized that something was indeed wrong, and he was having an irate conversation with his aides.

"The flood of monsters is going to devastate the countryside, sir!" said one of the aides.

"Adel's tomb is going to be swallowed up!" said the second.

"Then what?" said the third.

"Bastard!" yelled the first. "Adel will be dropped again on Esthar."

"You're making too big a deal on _that_ notion," the President refuted. "We've got to remain calm here."

"Remain calm?" exclaimed the first.

"Mr. President," cautioned the second, "we need to alert, not be calm."

"Oh, why is everything happening all at once," the President complained, "and-hey, what's this girl doing over here?"

The four of them had caught sight of Rinoa leaving the space station.

"Mr. President," said the first, "we have to close this chute and get you back down to earth, immediately."

"I agree!" said the third. "We cannot waste anymore time here."

"Shit, no!" Squall shouted, as the aides closed the chute and sealed off Rinoa from his view. "God-fucking-dammit!"

The President and his aides heard Squall's racket and looked at him trying desperately to get through the chute, almost as if he was willing to ram himself through the gate.

"We're sorry sir, but the gates will not open. We jammed them," said the second aide.

Squall looked at them like they were fucking mad.

"This poor ship is going to be destroyed in that plume. Everyone must get to the escape pod at once!" said the third.

"Not without her!" Squall fired back.

"Then stay her then!" shouted the first aide. "Come on, Mr. President!"

The President gave a long look at Squall, but Squall couldn't see his face for a glare from the chute's lighting obscured it. The aides finally tugged him back downward, but not before the commander-in-chief told Squall very pointedly, "Look after Ellone for me."

_That voice_, Squall thought. He watched the four men disappear back into the station and ran that sound through the gamut of his memory bank. What was it so familar? However, his brain was meshed-up. Rinoa was going to die!

"Shit," he cursed defeatedly.

* * *

Piet sat in his chair with his hands rubbing furiously his face as he watched all the monitors reading on Adel's tomb go haywire. He wished for a bottle of strong rum at this moment. Squall came through the door, still in his spacesuit, and lifted the visor to see Ellone's and Quistis's worried faces.

"She made it to space," he said sadly.

"She's made it to the tomb," Ellone said, even more sadly.

Squall forced himself to look at both the viewfinder and out the pane-glass windows.

_

* * *

Fithos_

_ Lusec_

_ Wecos_

_ Vinosec_

That deep guttural sound had not been heard for years in the Estharian heartland. It had been heard for merely a year on the Galbadian continent when Ultimecia had possessed Edea. Now it echoed with every stroke Rinoa made to that infalliable and incorrigiable prison that housed the most vicious Sorceress that ever roamed the earth: the Sorceress Adel.

The tomb was a spade-shaped grotto with a perpetual "cold-sleep" capsule penetrating the Sorceress's skin, completely pacifying her for what the Estharians hoped would be an eternity. It seems the greenies committed the sin of wishful thinking just the same rate as every other inhabitant of the earth. The grotto was ringed by a golden arch that depicted the symbols of the barrier device that controlled her. The ancient symbols were imbued with energy that would make sure the Witch would stay locked up for eternity. So impressive was it that it was hinted the symbols were the language spoken by Ultimecia herself. Dark blue crystals projected out of both ends of the golden arch and were now drawing energy from the exploding Moon and being pulled ever so closely into the frothing plume descending upon the earth.

Rinoa Heartilly made her way carefully to the side of the giant tomb, and Adel now started becoming "alive". The golden arch seemed to react to Rinoa's presence, and the two giant crystals started spinning around in a circle. Something also seemed to happen to Rinoa, too. A power play. A fit of reluctance grappled the young girl, immediately swarmed by a fit of persistence that won the day and propelled her forward to one of the crystals on the side of Adel's tomb. She reached out her hand and shot a sudden bolt of energy into the mass. The symbols on the tomb intensified into a bright orange and green color-the hated symbol of Adel's reign.

That's when all hell broke loose.

The glass casing of Adel's grotto broke in millions of pieces that lay suspended in space and gradually drifted into nonexistence. Steam erupted and flowed waywardly in the space expanse. Rinoa regained her normal composure, and her eyes, skin and face reverted back to her lovely and beautiful countenance. The coldness of her skin heated up to her fiery persona, but her heart clenched with fear at the face she now beheld. The Sorceress Adel was now alive and very much in a heated and passionate loathing fury. Her eyes were bloodshot red, and her skin intensified into a purplish-orangish glow. She slowly tilted her head to Rinoa and grinned hideously.

Through the two woman's minds, Adel spoke to Rinoa, "Thank you, my dear. Unfortunately, your task is complete. And so are you." With a nod of her head, Adel force-pushed Rinoa far off into space.

Rinoa's heart leapt to her throat, and she screamed with fright into her comlink as she was tossed end over end further and further into the depths of space.

Adel sighed contentedly and closed her eyes as the tomb she resided in drifted further and further into the plume. Only when the tomb was within reach of the frothing monster pool did she open her eyes and whisper graciously, "Thank you, Ultimecia."

The tomb sank within the plume, and the Lunar Cry took on a garguantuan stake. The plume turned bright yellow and glowed like the fires of Hell. The Moon emptied all of its reserves and rushed the devastation at full speed. The plume hit the atmosphere, and every person alive and about on the earth looked up at the horror that could be seen from all points of the globe.

* * *

"Holy shit!" Irvine yelled, pointing at the sky.

Selphie, Zell, Mila, and Edea stood shell-shocked as a gigantic plume of red toxic death, brimming with monsters of all shapes and sizes descended like a rocket straight into the heart of the Lunatic Pandora.

The impact was like an Ultima bomb, and the five humans barely had time to hit cover on the plateau. An intense bombardment of light and a shockwave of immense proportions deafened and blinded them for several minutes. Their bodies were covered in dirt and grime and a slick oily coating from millions of monster hide that had just collapsed upon the face of the earth.

From within the Lunatic Pandora, Seifer, Raijin, Fujin, Whigham, all the soldiers and afflicted Super Guardsmen and all the Lunatics looked up to see streams of monsters pouring in from all angles. From the depths of the plume came the despicable and foul Sorceress Adel in her infalliable tomb. The crystals broke off upon impact with the Pandora, and the grotto cleaved in two from its hard landing on the Pandora's floor.

With a sickening and hideous cry of triumph, the Sorceress Adel stepped out of her prison she had resided in for seventeen years and she cracked her back with a loud and resounding joy. Flinging her arms to the side as wide as she could, she roared triumphantly for several minutes echoed by the wailings of the Lunatics, the mighty yells of her Iron Giant protectors who immediately swarmed around her as her bodyguards, and of Seifer Almasy's own cruel laughter. Indeed, Adel singled him out the first one and gave a gentle bow in his direction.

"To the honorable Knight of his Majesty, I am humble to your services," she said with an appreciative grin.

The other humans were dumbfounded and frightened beyond all relief.

Seifer addressed their attention. "Oh, how you all doubted me in the past. Now, look at you!" He started to laugh broadly. "LOOK AT YOU! Look upon her! Look upon the Sorceress Adel!"

Adel roared much louder and much fiercely and sprouted wings of gold and blood that had a span of thirty feet from tip to tip. A thunderous crack split their ears, and a slimy sheen coated the walls as she took to flight. She rose above monster brethren and soared out of the Lunatic Pandora. She played around in the wind of the Estharian plains, a land she was so happy to finally return to all these years. She cracked the wind vibrantly with her body for several minutes, while the bulk of her monster brethren corralled around the Lunatic Pandora and the tombs of Tear's Pointe, before she finally rested on one of the monolith's perches.

"I...AM FREE!" she yelled above the earth. The entire monster corps celebrated in their own coherent cacophany. She cracked the wind again with her wings. "Go my lovelies. Go and repopulate the earth with my design," she yelled and laughed triumphantly.

And the monsters went to all corners of the earth, and Hell and Hyne truly poured its sinful beauty upon the land and the sea.

The four young humans were frozen stiff. Edea wailed in agony and cried in despair. She beat the earth with her hands and repeated vain prayers of solace to any GF that would listen until finally Zell snapped out of his reverie and violently hauled his four companions to his feet.

"We have _got_ to get the fuck out of here now!"

The others nodded furiously, and the five of them fled in a panic for the city of Esthar.


	34. Midnight Cowboy

_Amid the red plume_

_The pretty Angel awaits_

_The safety of Him_

Squall slammed his fist against the panel, inadvertently breaking some sort of blinking device on it. "Rinoa," he originally meant to shout, yet his voice peetered out into a whimper.

"Oh shit, oh shit," Piet repeated, his arms flailing around like a puppet. "This is it, ladies and gentlemen. The big one. We've got to get the hell out of here, NOW!"

"To where?" Quistis asked.

"There's an escape pod in the back of the facility. No time to waste! Let's go!" And he was off and running.

"Oh dear," Quistis moaned, as she slowly managed to drag her legs after him. All sorts of crazy ideas were running through her head, about Zell, Irvine, Selphie, Mila, and Edea on the ground far, far below; about the Lunar Cry and its manifestations on the earth; and, of course, on Rinoa, who was surely a lost cause. How could this have happened? she repeatedly scolded herself. How could they have easily lost a dear friend? She stole a glance back at Squall out of pure instinct and was horrified to see him not budging.

Ellone was there, though, and she prodded him. "Squall, we have to leave!"

He wouldn't move an inch.

Ellone look to Quistis for help, and the former instructor actually halted and proceeded back towards him, but Piet stopped her. "No, Miss Trepe, you're going the wrong way!"

"Squall's not moving!"

"Squall!" Piet yelled, "This rig is about to be consumed in the plume and will inevitably disentigrate, the poor hunk of shit. We need to get out of here, NOW!"

"Then go!" Squall yelled, surprising them and forcing Piet to take a step back. Squall cleared his head and turned to a perplexed Ellone. "I need you, Elle." He saw her recoil a bit. "I need you now more than anything."

"Squall, I told you, I can't-"

"I know, Elle."

"I don't know her, I don't-"

"Come _on_!" yelled Piet. "We haven't got much time!"

"I don't know, Squall," Ellone whispered as she ran past him.

"Dammit," the Commander grunted. The ship gave a lurch as the first round of escape pods jettisoned back down toward the earth. The red plume was visible out of the corner of his eye. Squall hesitated for another second before wheeling around and following the other three down the shaft. Piet and Quistis had already used the elevator and they could be seen down below suiting up in one of the large escape pods. Another round of pods jettisoned and those in the space station who wanted to leave had already jettisoned. Ellone waited for him at the elevator, and his presence descended the rig.

"I can hear her voice calling for you."

He looked at her, stunned. "You can?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice far off but serious. "You are the only thing that is on her mind."

"She's not possessed or anything?"

"No," she replied, as the elevator stopped descending. "She needs you now."

Those words rocked him, and as she ran into the pod he stayed for a second. Then he stepped, and his feet felt weighed down by cement. Each step exerted so much force and energy for him, and his heart seemed to sink deeper and deeper.

_What am I supposed to do?_ he berated himself over and over. _This isn't something seventeen-year olds have to deal with all the time!_

He forced himself into the escape pod.

Quistis was already strapped in. "Squall, hurry!"

"There isn't much time left," Piet reiterated. "I'd say- seconds!"

"God almighty, Ellone!" Squall shouted, melodramatically. His outburst startled all three of them, as well as his refusal to immediately strap in. Piet closed the door behind them anyway and started the process of decoupling. "Rinoa is gonna die! I can't take this shit any longer! Ellone, please!"

"Hurry, get in!" Piet repeated.

"Hold on!" Squall shouted, thrusting his finger in Piet's direction. He gave Ellone that look that she remembered so well back at the orphanage. "I've never felt this way before in my life. For anyone."

Quistis took in a shocked breath, and Ellone nodded her understanding. "Okay."

Squall blinked in surprise.

"It may not work," Ellone cautioned, "but I think I can allow you to see the past. _Her_ past."

His relief was visible, yet he could not reply.

"Please!" Piet pleaded. "We _need to go!"_

"Right," Squall said, jumping instantly to his hold and strapping in. Once settled, Piet released the switch.

The pod jettisoned and escaped down the belly of the beautiful _Excalibur_. Not ten seconds later through the pane-glass ceiling window, they saw the Y-shaped vessel consume entirely within the plume. The thick belching cloud swelled to an immense proportion followed by rapid spurts of electricity and an orange fire that sent an increased flow of monsters down upon the earth. The pod was rickety and bumpy, and Quistis and Piet held their breath that it could hold. Ellone, however, was busy channeling major events. Squall was stuck in a bizarre trance. That old familiar buzzing sound split his senses, but a softer tranquility glossed it over, and he was keenly aware of suspended animation.

It wasn't his body that was being invaded. It was that of Rinoa's.

And he saw her once again.

However...

_

* * *

Selphie managed a slightly nervous giggle. "What's the matter, girl, you nervous?"_

_"You're n-not?"_

_The scuttling happened again, this time closer. "N-No, I'm not."_

_Rinoa clasped her hands around the ice gems and remembered the incantation Selphie had told moments ago: a simple Azule veramboso would unleash a bright crystalline shard of ice. The trick was to pronounce it right in a confident voice, or else it wouldn't work. The scuttling occurred again, and she licked her lips nervously. She was glad Angelo was not here with her at the moment, she wouldn't be able to keep track of him._

_Selphie thought she saw a flash of red from a hole in the wall, but her light shined on nothing. When she took it away, it occurred again, and she hurled it back onto two pairs of yellow beady eyes. Each pair contained eight separate golden orbs, and the creatures emerged quick as ever. Their fat bulbous bellies smelled terribly awful, and a sickly green mist enveloped around their egg sacs. Their legs were long and bristly, and their fangs were dripping with poisonous saliva. Rinoa yelped and shouted some form of gibberish that did not release her magic spell as she hoped. The spider crashed into her, and she did all she could to avoid the nasty maw._

_The damn eight-legged monstrosities were as big as them and disgusting to the smell. Selphie dodged the second charging arachnid and dragged her lit end of the torch across its back, unsheathing the Morning Star in the process. The blazing spider let out a nasty squeal that sounded like a drowning animal, and it sputtered in its own immolation. Rinoa was forced on her back, swatting the creature away with her Cardinal, a bolt from the beak embedding itself into the belly of the advancing spider. The spider snarled in slight pain and moved its mandibles in glee. Selphie ran forward and slashed sharply at the spider's head with her Morning Star. The blow took half of its head clean off, and the arachnid sank on the floor dead as a doornail._

_The burning spider ignored its engulfing state and advanced toward Selphie ready to poison her in the back. Rinoa stood up sharply and cried Azule veramboso! The spider stopped, sensing externalities around it, and its eight eyes at once saw a thick circle of ice form out of the blue. A large knife-shaped block of ice formed in the center of the circle and then caved downwards. The whole formation impaled the spider to the ground and immediately chilled its innards and its life to below-zero temperatures, killing it instantly._

_Selphie's torch blew out from the magical spell, plunging them in total darkness. She fumbled for Ifrit's gem in her pocket and thanked his name for shining so brightly red and lit the end of the torch again with his everlasting heat. The room lit up again, and the two shocked girls noticed more pairs of yellow beady eyes eyeing them from the same hole. A sound occurred behind them, and a new hole caved in with three pairs of eyes slowly eyeing them over. On cue, eight spiders slowly descended from their hiding places well aware of the viciousness of their intruders._

_Selphie felt a sudden cool blast behind them and heard as well the faint trickle of water running. She immediately thought of an underground well, and she figured there might be a way to lose the heat there. The spiders were advancing now more quickly, and she saw Rinoa had seemed to forget the incantation once again. There was no time to spare! She twirled the Morning Star in her hand, focused her energy, and spewed out a large fireball from her mouth. Courtesy of Ifrit, she felt his presence within her and two of her enemies melted away from the blast. The quickness of the action angered the spiders and brought Rinoa back to her senses. She saw Selphie indicate for her to run, but she managed to sneak in a deadly strike straight into the brain of a spider with a bolt from her Cardinal._

_The five spiders pursued them down the corridor, and Selphie was right in her intuition. Beyond her torchlight, she saw the glowing paleness of glistening water, she felt the air cooling rapidly, and she saw at last a large lake with a tower in the center. The open room was a massive carved-out space underground and plenty of room to summon a GF. She tossed the torch into the lake, able to see her surroundings now and pushed Rinoa to the side. The five spiders were scampering now, and one leapt up in the air. Rinoa shot its belly and socketed it down on the dirt floor, and she hastily tried to attach a new bolt to her gun. Selphie pulled out Ifrit's gem and squeezed it tight. A loud roar flowed throughout the room, and the four remaining spiders stopped in their tracks. The great horned demon materialized out of a fiery ball that hovered above Selphie. Dropping gently beside her, he eyed the four startled arachnids and then instantly melted them with a fist slammed against the ground. The impact sent a fire ripple that consumed them instantly without any effort. Turning back to Selphie, he gave a twinkle with his eye and vanished as quickly as he came._

_"W-Wow!" Rinoa breathed sharply. "That's my second time seeing one of those!"_

_Selphie gave a shy smile. "Cool, huh?"_

_"This is a lot more dangerous than I thought it would be."_

_"Yeah, I know, but this is a battle arena, Rinoa! You've gotta be prepared for anything!"_

_Rinoa felt goosebumps pop up on her skin and a strong aura enveloping around her. She rubbed her shoulders. "Something doesn't feel right."_

_"It's the power of the Guardian Forces. Their presence in battle always consumes time, being that they have to transcend it to get to our world."_

_"I know, I felt it when Squall summoned the one I'm carrying right now. Is that... is that a good thing?"_

_"What dya mean?"_

_"For our safety. It seems rather detrimental."_

_Selphie shrugged. "I remember my first experience with the GFs. It was a harrowing time at first, being that they're so unpredictable sometimes. Yet, even though it exhumes a lot of energy from you, it really does make you pretty powerful in the end."_

_"How are you feeling right now?"_

_"Well, how did you feel after you finally brought on that blizzard spell?"_

_"Tired."_

_"Same here, although I'm more used to it now. GFs are stronger, but I've learned to control it better."_

_Rinoa doubted the sincerity of that, but she wanted to get back to the others. She mentally derided fate: _Why did it have to be spiders? I hate spiders!

_Selphie looked back at the lake. She could see three other openings in the walls of the room, and she took in that the large room was square-shaped. "It seems as if this place is a large maze that isn't too difficult to get lost." She was musing to herself, and she didn't hear Rinoa question her. Instead, her thoughts turned toward a bridge on the western side of the lake. It looked like it could be brought down by some pulleys somewhere._

_Rinoa tapped her shoulder. "What are you thinking?"_

_Selphie pointed to the tower. "I think the King resides there."_

_"Or what's left of him?"_

_"Exactly. That bridge over there leads to him. Whoever took the western side might find the pulley if that's the case." She looked back to where they were and noticed that a ring of dirt enveloped the entire circle of the lake. "Let's see if we can walk over there and find it, Rinoa!"_

_

* * *

Quistis ate but a simple bowl of soup at dinner. The Centran continent was to show its redness tomorrow morning, and she was glad. Three days at sea was getting her ill in the stomach, so Doctor Kadowaki and the Headmaster decided to cook her up an interesting concoction. It was a standard baseline broccoli and cheese broth, but they had added in extra things to spice up her vitality: salmon chunks, okra, onions, and mushrooms. It tasted...obscure, but it certainly did wonders to her insides._

_She had asked for some crackers to liven the dish, and she was having a hard time suppressing a smile at the appalled look on Rinoa's face. The young princess was eyeballing the concoction like one looks at the scene of bloody accident- morbid curiousity._

_Even at this late hour, Selphie's and Irvine's deputies were still training the men and women for combat outside the cafeteria on the great circle's causeways. The Balamb SeeDs and students were allowed to rest a bit, but most of them stayed drilling away with the Balambian citizens who were swiftly perfecting their magicka skills. Their loud uproarious chants echoed loudly in the empty cafeteria, so both girls had to sit pretty close together to talk to each other._

_Rinoa had two dishes in front of her, but one was barely eaten. She was currently chowing down on some chicken. The hotdog tray only had one small bite out of it. Whatever had leaked out both ends of the weiner scared the hell out of her._

_Quistis watched her, studied her a bit, as she ate. She still retained an irritating jealousy, although there was really nothing she could do about it. It seemed out of her hands. "How are you feeling?" she asked abruptly, slightly jarring herself in the empty mess hall._

_Rinoa wiped her lips and had to gather herself together. "Well...uh.. sort of good. I guess I'm... ready for anything that comes our way."_

_"That's more than what I could say," the former instructor replied, making a slight nervous giggle._

_"Oh come on now. Don't be coy."_

_"Coy?"_

_"Yes, coy. You don't strike me as an image of uncertainty. You strike me as a type of girl that takes matters into her own hands. Never troubled by anything."_

_Quistis looked at her soup, feeling as if a heavy weight suddenly dropped on her back. "Most... cases."_

_"You got a soft spot somewhere?"_

_Quistis laughed and shook her head._

_"For a guy, no doubt. Pretty girl like a girl of your stature should attract a whole bunch of them."_

_"Stature?"_

_Rinoa wiped her lips again and pointed at her body from head to toe. "Strawberry blonde hair, all these silly boys around here crave girls with blonde hair. Full lips, you know what boys around here say about that. A curvy figure same as mine." Both of them took some time to view that. "Yeah, same as mine. That one's self-explanatory. Plus... the best thing of all is your whip."_

_"My whip?"_

_"Oh come on. You know what a whip is used for right?"_

_"I hardly think that-"_

_"Don't be so coy. What's that group I've heard about on campus here? You know, the one that's practically a sausage fest. Something like a 5 to 1 ratio, ya know?"_

_Quistis began to flush a little bit. "The Trepies."_

_"See?"_

_"I never really thought about it that way, but none of those fanboys aren't really at all interested in anything long-term. I knew that a long time ago. No, there's..." Her eyes drifted to the side, and she was aware of the perky raven-haired picking that up. "There's really only two guys on this campus I admired...and... I thought would lead to more."_

_Rinoa's eyes revealed what she was thinking, Quistis knew that enough. She wanted to get off this subject, but Rinoa was the type of girl that stuck to things like glue. "Is one of them leading us into this battle tomorrow?"_

_The former instructor's eyes snapped onto hers with an icy glare that rattled Rinoa's nerves a bit. For a moment, it seemed a nasty spit of words would ensue, and both girls became slowly aware of it. Both flushed and felt an uncomfortable warmth envelop off them, and they hurried to down some water._

_Quistis broke first. "He's... a difficult person to get along with... but that doesn't mean someone in this world can get along with him."_

_Rinoa watched her every move._

_"I tried for the longest time. Subconciously at first, you know, indirectly. We were in the same training group here when we were nine or ten or something like that. He was the adjutant and excelled at his gunblading and martial arts skills. I...unknowingly...well..willfully strived to keep up with him. Headm- Cid- liked my progress and enrolled me for instructorship training. He seemed to recognize my wants, so he placed me with Squall. Most of the time, anyway._

_"Ooh. I tried several times. It really got bad when the Exam season kicked off. Being an instructor, I had already completed my field and survey tests, so I was way ahead of the game. A standout the Guardians called me. Squall and this other boy were in a league of their own, and their interaction caused me to immerse myself within them._

_"Maybe Squall knew about it, but I doubt it. I'll keep this little...crush...er..stuck in me all my life. Hope for the next thing that comes around."_

_"Oh, Quistis, that's never good."_

_"It's what gotten me here this far. You're better for him anyway."_

_Rinoa averted her eyes back to the chicken and simply looked at it._

_"Your personality is better for him, anyway," Quistis clarified. "It's funny. I've never seen him be compassionate before, or resemble anything short of a cornucopia of emotions."_

_"Oh," Rinoa replied, nervous giggling, "I've never caused that to happen."_

_"Now, you're being coy."_

_"All I did was just be myself. It's how I alway was with people. With complete strangers."_

_"Maybe so. Maybe so."_

_The raven-haired girl echoed those two words in her mind and thought about him hard just then. Her skin must have flushed for she heard Quistis chuckling once more. "I'd love to see you two as a couple. That would make me feel more complete."_

_"Quistis."_

_"I'm serious. I don't want to seem exploiting or anything. Or living vicariously through someone. Being with you, though, in this short little time, has made you almost a baby sister to me. Seeing you and Squall interact together made me both... jealous... and excited at the same time."_

_She opened her mouth to reply, but Rinoa could find no words._

_"These things take time, but you know, I do wish he hurried the hell up."_

_Both of them laughed, took their glasses, klinked them together and drank all its contents._

_

* * *

"Fine time to show up, Kinneas! I suppose _he_ had some strings on this." She winced suddenly as the head guard unclasped her wrists and pushed her away. She whirled on him and flicked him off, before sending a hawking loogey his way. He ducked from the aim and giggled some more before venturing back into the bloody depths of the D-District Prison._

_Rinoa clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, and then she faced the cowboy._

_Irvine Kinneas did not look good at all. In fact, he was downright despondent. Even when she walked fast toward him and slapped his face hard, he did not make much of an expression._

_"Talk, damn you! Why are you here?"_

_He merely shrugged his shoulders. "I've come to get you out."_

_"And them?" She asked, pointing up and behind her._

_After a long while, he answered, "No."_

_"You're full of shit."_

_"The plan was supposed to be botched from the beginning. There was no way it should've succeeded."_

_"You already knew that well before we started this mission."_

_"Of course I did. Your father came and talked to both me and Martine at Galbadia Garden."_

_"And you did not tell Squall about this?"_

_"I knew what he would've said."_

_"He would've stuck his gunblade into your throat!"_

_"I would've gladly welcomed it."_

_Her eyes exploded into a bright green and she lunged at him. She punched his chest several times, and he allowed it. When she brought her claws up to his face, though, he had to react for the nails were sharp. "Rinoa! I have to spring you out of here."_

_She brought a fist behind her, aimed at his jaw, but he caught it and spun her around, confusing her. "This is your father's orders!"_

_"Fuck that two-timing bastard!"_

_"He is a two-timing bastard."_

_"Then why are you doing this?"_

_"He kept a part of the plan secret from me."_

_She calmed her breathing down and released pressure from her limbs. He let her go, and she turned to face him. "What are you saying?" she asked._

_"Your father already had a deal with Edea to kill off Vinzer Deling."_

_"What?"_

_"I swear it. However, he found out that he wasn't getting the promotion that he so wanted. So, he ordered the hit on her, supposedly, to make you all the culprits."_

_"That cannot be true."_

_"That's as far as I know. Now, he didn't want you to get involved. But, you are pretty stubborn, and you interfered in his wishes."_

_"And you? You're the go-to stubborn bitch of the process?"_

_"Geez, where did this foul mouth come from y-"_

_"My friends are being tortued in there, you prick! Squall's being electrified right now."_

_"I know. I've been hearing him from down here."_

_"Then what are-" she couldn't finish. It hurt too much._

_This time, his fist clenched up. "I don't want to be the bad guy here! The short time I've spent with Squall and the others has been a damn fun time, alright! You are not supposed to be here. Your dad has made an agreement with the Sorceress herself to let you and only you out of here! Is that clear?"_

_"W-Why?"_

_"Squall is the most valuable asset here, and Edea has ordered him to be ... eh... extrapolated for information."_

_"Extrapolated?"_

_"That's a nice way of saying tortued first and then eliminated. He's the main anomaly for her, and she wants him to suffer a horrible fate." He turned to leave._

_However, anger had flown through her again, and she was able to find his Bismarck before he did. She got it, found it cocked, locked, and ready to rock and shoved it in the back of his skull. "You cannot do this, Irvine Kinneas!"_

_"Great Eden," he yelped, throwing his hands up, "you don't know how to use that thing!"_

_"Oh, damn, cowboy! I'm just a simple-minded girl, huh? Can't handle myself in a tough situation!"_

_"I didn't say that. That gun is extremely touchy, though. I've nearly blown my fingers off just by touching that thing."_

_"Well, you're just letting Squall die here!" Her ire had eclipsed her judgment._

_Irvine caught her bluff, whipped around, and knocked the gun away and into his grasp. He quickly steadied her shoulder with his arm. "I'm not!"_

_"What?"_

_"Rinoa, you make too much noise!"_

_"F-"_

_"No cursing, either. Did you really think I was going to do this?"_

_She looked at him, confused._

_"I need you down here, because you know the layout of this facility better than I do. They confiscated all their weapons, although Squall's has been summarily destroyed. You know where exactly everything is, plus these guards here have got the hots for you."_

_"So, what are you planning? Me being your Siren, while you dispatch them and get the others freed?"_

_"It's as simple as that."_

_She folded her arms. "I still don't trust you, but I like the plan."_

_"That's all I'll ever ask for."_

_

* * *

Zell Dincht wasn't a strong man, but his lean body had a decent build of muscle due to his strong past of martial arts. His skin was tough, taut, and lean, and he actually retained a bronzed look besides being among the snowy peaks of the Balamb mountain range throughout most of his life. Scars from previous mishaps with quarterstaffs and bastard swords criss-crossed his chest and back, but he was more than thankful now that someone else of the opposite gender appreciated it._

_Milena Chabert never thought she would be in this position, but the past three hours had been an exhilirating and beautiful experience. It was the first time for both of them, and the warmth of their love had an effect so enrapturing neither of them could do anything except lay entangled in each other's arms with the covers of his bed jumbled in a wayward mess. Her ample chest rose and fell softly, her eyes were closed, and she lay in the crook of his elbow, her hair pushed to the side. She wasn't sleeping, but she was relaxed, and he knew it. He traced his finger lightly over every contour of her body and relished her scent. She was a magnificent, shy, and alluring girl; and fortunately for him, of legal age as of last week._

_He had noticed that criticism of him based on all his usual charades had successfully died away, except of course from Irvine and Squall, but that was to be expected and he didn't mind them at all. Having the sweet and vivacious library girl as one's lover and companion was enough to stop a bullet pretty much. If Seifer found out about this, he wouldn't have such a ready retort. Even though Seifer was an orphanage buddy same as him, Zell was still going to kick the bastard's motherfucking ass for all the shit he had done not just to him but to the Commander as well. Squall had confessed to practically coming close to being ass-raped in that federal prison, and Zell was practically enraged over that._

_Yet, for the time being, the afterglow of sex was stifling him, and he was very happy._

_The knock at the door, light and hesitant made him and Mila very curious indeed._

_"Who is it?" yelled Zell, groggily._

_"It's me, Rinoa." Her voice seemed reluctant._

_"Who's Rinoa?" Mila asked warily._

_"Part of our group. She was that resistance fighter." He saw her nod but still look a little wary. "By Eden," he muttered getting out of bed and clumsily putting on a bathrobe much to her amusement. He opened the door and was surprised to find Rinoa looking a bit discombobulated._

_The thought didn't hit her right away, but Angelo seemed to stir it up by creating a confused whimper. Rinoa looked at Zell's attire then slowly into the room. "Oh crap! I'm sorry," she gave a nervous laugh. "I didn't mean to disturb you two."_

_"No problem, Rin. You look a little down."_

_"Not down, really. I was just wondering about something."_

_"What is it?"_

_"Well," she hesitated. The thought of this was just insane to even think about it. She scratched the back of her leg with her other foot and noticed Mila getting irritated. "Do you know about Squall's ring?"_

_Zell raised an eyebrow. "Squall's ring?" He thought about that. "Oh yeah, it's pretty cool-looking. It's got some sort of monster-thing-I don't know what it is-on it. Some type of monster thing."_

_"I know. I had it as a pendant around my neck after he lost it at the prison. It was really cool...and...uh..."_

_Zell raised another eyebrow but had a look of confusion on his face, which was sort of typical for him. He didn't seem to register the implication._

_The thought of this was killing her. "Do you know where he got it?"_

_"Haven't the faintest clue. That guy doesn't socialize much, he could've got it from anywhere."_

_"Hm. Darn. It's really cool-looking."_

_"Yeah, I know."_

_"I would like to have one just like it." She forced it out suddenly, with a bit too much emphasis._

_Of course, he didn't register that. He also didn't register his girl's ever-growing irritated self behind him. He did scratch his chin, though, and looked at Rinoa thoughtfully. "I could make you one, if you'd like."_

_"Make me one?" Her eyes were wide, more out of surprise than anticipation._

_"Yeah! I do more than just martial arts, you know."_

_Rinoa looked behind him and couldn't believe that that was true. "You would really make me one?"_

_"Yeah. I skilled myself in metallurgy over at Balamb Port on my weekends off from study at Garden. I will need the real thing, though, to make a proper caste, as well as a measurement of your finger of course. We'll need to ask him to borrow it for a little while, if that dummy can part ways with it."_

_Her eyes had grown wide with joy, but now they fell to the ground. "Oh."_

_"What's wrong?"_

_"We can't do that. We can't ask him."_

_"Wh-Why not?"_

_She gave a nervous giggle, but he didn't understand. "It'd be kind of embarrassing. To ask him, I mean. People might...might get the wrong impression."_

_"The wrong impression?"_

_"Zell, honey," Mila called behind him, "the impression that they're going out."_

_Zell widened his eyes, more at the view of Rinoa's flushed cheeks than Mila's statement. "Nice," he said stubbornly._

_Rinoa gulped. "W-Well..er.. I'll leave y-you two... a-alone. C-Come on, Angelo." The dog gave a curious look at her and hesitantly followed her fast legs down the hallway._

_Zell chuckled and slowly closed the door and turned back to his girl. She had grown a small smile on his face. No words were spoken, but he knew what he had to do._

_After Round Two, of course._

* * *

"Hmmm..." Ellone said, smiling big. "I think I've got a good idea of her personality."

"Ellone."

She looked over at him and could tell that the goal hadn't been accomplished.

"That was too far back. Pleasant nonetheless, but too far back."

"I understand. I think, though, that I can get you at the proper moment now. Give me one sec."

Squall relaxed and took in the pleasure of those four memories once again. Memories that had not involved his presence but involved his feeling. The signs had been visible all along, but he in his stubbornness had shelved them all. Slowly, the buzzing sound came back in and he was immersed in a new dimension.

Bright white.

That was all that lay around him. A suffocating whiteness with no sound to deter the feeling away. Then, slowly, color formed in and that cavernous sepulcher of Galbadia Garden returned to his view.

"_What?_" Squall heard himself ask. "_Is this-Is this Edea's chambers?_"

"_Yes, Squall, it is."_ Ellone answered him.

"_Oh shit,_" Squall replied. "_This is the place."_

He saw his friends, beaten and bloodied from his Blasting Zone spell lying over in little heaps along Sorceress Edea's balcony. The Sorceress herself was slumped over her podium. And Seifer- that cruel bastard was face-down in a pool of his own blood. A pool created, Squall remembered, from the expert cuts of the Renzokuken gunblade.

As this was, nothing else happened for a bit. All was dead silent and eerily mournful.

_"What is going on-"_

Rinoa came into the picture. She walked with the same shaky movements she had walked under in the spaceship just minutes ago. A sheen of oily green paste covered her body with an irridescent glow. It seemed, Squall found this silly and a bit uneasy, that something-or someone- was inside her. From time to time, what looked like a crowned woman's face appeared briefly behind Rinoa's head.

Rinoa came to Seifer's side and knelt down beside him. She turned him over onto his back, and he opened his eyes all of a sudden.

"What?" Squall heard Seifer say. "Who is it?"

"It is I," Rinoa replied, in a voice dark, treacherous and very deep. "Ultimecia."

"_What?"_ Squall shouted.

"Ultimecia?" Seifer asked, staring wildly at Rinoa's face, which resembled the same terrifying look Squall had seen on her earlier. The eyes missing and bloodied, the face guant and bony.

"Yes, my Knight," and she reached down to his lips. "I have a task for you."

"A... t-task for me?"

"Yes. You are a loyal Knight, Seifer Almasy. Under great duress do you show your most gallant stride. I, the greatest and most powerful of all Sorceresses, am alive and well for the world to behold. There is much demand to be met."

"_Ultimecia is _inside_ Rinoa?"_ Squall shouted in desperation. _"The future Sorceress is inside Rinoa? Transferred... from.. Edea? Then...where's Rinoa!"_

"O my loyal knight."

"Yes, my Sorceress."

"Find the Lunatic Pandora. The greenies buried it somewhere in the land called Centra. Only then shall I grant you your highest dreams."

Seifer smiled. "As you wish, Ultimecia."

He rose, his destiny in his hands, and walked away into the abyss of Galbadia Garden. He managed to sneak away from the sight of all who lay outside the Garden. It was probably a trick Ultimecia had used for him.

Rinoa still knelt on the ground, but something was wrong.

Something kept coming in and out of focus behind her... and her face-her whole features were back to normal.

She was looking straight at him, at Squall. And she looked deathly frightened.

He heard her voice, "Squall! Help me, please." Her voice choked, and she saw she was crying. She looked cold.

The figure behind her stole his attention and froze his blood.

It was Ultimecia herself.

"Who disturbs my calling?" The Witch had a frightening voice, and her disembodied spirit propelled its way to view Squall's disembodied spirit. "Get out of here, you foolish boy," she demanded and unleashed a piercing shriek that rocketed him back through time.

He had to say something, anything.

"Rinoa!"

The pod was in his sight, and he heard a slump against the ground. Quistis gave a cry, and Squall saw that Ellone had slumped to the ground and was breathing heavily. Squall unstrapped himself and went to help her up. His space suit was incredibly bulky and he more than once bumped into her.

"Ellone?" he asked her.

"Did you see her?"

"I saw both her and Ultimecia."

"What?" Quistis asked.

"Ultimecia..." Ellone managed to say, "saw me as well. She'll stop at nothing to get a hold of me."

"I am so sorry, Sis," Squall apologized.

"No. Squall, this is something we had to do, and I am glad to have seen what has happened to this poor girl.

"I couldn't save her during that intermission, Elle. I couldn't do anything."

She looked up into his face and was glad he hadn't resealed the visor back on. "I remember those eyes."

"Hm?"

"Those innocent puppy dog eyes. You always gave them when you were down in the dumps. Little did you know that they were actually attractive."

He shook his head. "That's in the past."

"That's right. And that's what I finally have figured out. It all comes together in the end."

"What?"

"What is important in life is the present and what you do in it."

Squall breathed in and exhaled. "I have to help Rinoa now. That's the only thing I _can_ do now, right?"

"Yes. You must talk to her, Squall. Your voice may not reach her, but your heart and a little bit of my connection power will reach her." She got up out of her embrace and stood before him. "Are you ready?"

He nodded.

"I'm sending you to the nearest past. To the closest present to the future."

Squall immediately felt it, because he could feel Rinoa's presence already. Ellone smiled as the transition was easier than she thought.

* * *

Space.

The final frontier, and a massive pressure cooker.

Amid the sea of stars, one tiny suited figure hurled around in slow rolling circles clinging desperately to a faltering oxygen tank. The jets had long ceased working, the readings had malfunctioned and the life bar was slowly dying.

She was sweating inside, her eyes were dilating and she was growing cold and erratic.

Rinoa struggled to read the guage on the side of her suit. "Re-maining... life support system... fif..teen seconds." Her heart sank, and she started to cry. "Am... I gonna make.. it?" Her voice trembled and croaked. A strand of her raven hair fell in her eye and she wasted precious oxygen shooing it away. By the grace of Eden, or just a stroke of luck, it managed to slither to the side. _Make it? _ "How?" she asked her own thoughts. _Oh boy,_ she giggled slightly in her head, _I'm speaking to myself now. Acting like Squall._ The mention of his name brought her on the verge of more tears.

Her body continued to tumble end over end. _Drifting... endlessly._ "I'm helpless now."

She heard a loud beep and a depressed sound, like air being let out of a balloon. It seemed to get a little tighter in the suit. She slowly checked the guage. "Remaining life support is... zero?" she questioned, her voice choking completely.

"N-No."

Space was too big for her. It would have to consume her. And she would drift. But where? Where to? Would she become part of an asteroid field? It was... too big.

"That's..." She looked all around and saw her fate. "That's just... it... then. I'm gonna... I'm gonna die."

Her dad came into her mind. Her mom came as well. She was eight when her mother died, a direct hit by a drunk driver. She had been in the back seat when her mother's body was cleaved in two. She had suffered a concussion and had been rushed to the hospital, but while she had lived her mother was pronounced dead at the scene. It was a tumultous time for an elementary schoolgirl. It was too much for even her dad to handle, and that was when the split between them began to materialize.

It didn't help matters with the uncle who was a Senator in the Deling City chambers. Him and those groping hands. Her father just letting it happen, too. The Senator, the uncle, and his prodding hands and lecherous grin. She had stoled away and formed a coalition with a terrorist organization- or a peacekeeper group in her eyes- and fought her dad's army.

But, her dad. He met a tragic fate as well. A fate that she could've prevented. Now... she was going to join them. At least- that was the plan. _Who knows?_ she thought.

She floated helplessly end over end.

Nothing could halt the tears coming down her cheeks.

"Good-bye..."

She still had breath left.

"...S - Squall."

She wanted him. Touch him, feel him, rest in him. He was a cold-hearted jerk at times, but she knew him better. She had managed before the fall into darkness to resuscitate in him a longing. She bet all her money that while she was asleep he had protected her. Now... she would never get to see if that was true.

_"Rinoa! No, don't quit on me y-!"_

She blinked. There was interference in her thoughts. A vague shouting. Her hearing and her vision was growing deficient. The tightening of her suit and the shortness of her breaths were afflicting her severely. The whole world, the entire universe was spinning out of control and consuming her soul.

But it sounded like him!

"W-W-What?" she managed to say.

_"Plea- noa!"_ The interference sounded again. "_Can you-me? It's Sq-, noa!"_

_ Focus, focus, focus, foc-_Rinoa ceased to recognize all functions. Her vision blurred to obscurity. Her blood ran colder than ever. Her nerves loosened altogether. She tumbled further and further into the abyss. Her mind only raced headlong into the afterlife, and the tears that had streamed down her cheeks seemed to freeze to her skin.

"_Rin- there with you! -ten to me!"_

The interference still plagued her, but it was hollowing out completely.

But...her heart. It continued to beat.

And it connected to her mind something that was altogether familiar to her.

_But... wait... what the _hell_ is this?_

She floated end over end.

A tinkling like glass hitting metal sounded within the murky glow of her being. Something propelled her to open her right eye. Her left eye followed like the creaking opening of a coffin. It felt like a weight of dust on each eyelid. The Sun was in her view, and she flinched, but something moved in front of it. When she focused on it, she gave a croaking gasp.

_Griever_, she whispered.

The Griever necklace lay suspended in front of her. It wasn't a trick. It wasn't magic. It was _his_ ring and necklace. She greedily went for it and clutched it in her hands. In doing so, she realized

"I'm- I'm alive!"

Probing deeper into this colossal discovery, she finally warmed up inside her suit. She clutched the necklace against her heart and started crying tears of joy. "Squall."

The beeping sound on her suit told her that his presence was watching over her. Somehow, in some weird way, the man of her dreams was watching over her. She pressed the button on her suit and checked the guage. "Oxygen increased to half-level." All guages read the same as it did the first time she stepped into the final frontier.

"I don't know how, but I know it's you."

* * *

"It is me."

"Squall?"

"I know what I must do, Sis."

He got up off the floor and did not bother to check his guages. He only slid down his visor and hit the button on the wall to open the shaft to the exit chamber.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Piet demanded. "You are mad!"

"Mad as a goddamn fox!" Squall replied, his voice muffled under the helmet.

Ellone just smiled at him, and Quistis tried to do the same but at the same time she had a look of frightening worry on her face.

"There's no way you can get back, Mr. Squall, you are insane!" Piet declared.

Squall gave each of them one final look, with a wink to Quistis, and he was gone. They watched him ascend the ladder, hit the switch to the exit hatch and depart into the final frontier.

* * *

It was a glimpse so powerful that he had to behold it first before doing anything else. The infinite expanse of space and the red plume now rescinding from the Moon to the earth. Now, at last, the monsters had all been spirited away. Who knew how foul the earth looked at this moment?

But, alas! The princess was on a special lifeline. Given by him.

He scoured the sea of stars in a panic at first and saw nothing but twinkling lights. Such a stupor he was in that he could not discern anything remotely resembling a poor body tumbling end over end in the expanse. However...he heard her voice, her breathing, and the faint sound of a gasp reach his heart. The sounds came from his ten o clock, and he turned precisely there and squinted.

"There you are," he said, as he spotted her small frame. It was the size of a toothpick, visible in varying glints from the Sun's rays. He checked his guages momentarily and now realized Piet's worries- he was barely running a quarter of fuel left in the jetpack boosters, and his life support guage was thirty percent. "Fuck it," he said, "we'll perish together." He cranked the jets on high and charged a cumbersome and stilted path toward her frame. "Keep breathing," he told her and himself.

He could feel her presence now-_a factor contributed by the GFs?_ he asked himself. It was warm and nourishing, and the smell of a magnolia perfume mixed with her natural scent and sweat and overpowered his senses. He wished it were that easy for her body to be right next to him instead of a seemingly infinite distance apart. The tiny speck of her frame was slowly coming into view with each steady pace he made, yet he could hear the jets winding down to a burping close. Their intactness was a bothersome plague to him and rendered his consciousness hardly whole at all.

With enough time that could be his last remaining minutes of life, he thought back upon the four events of the past Ellone had shown him and came to realize Rinoa's strange and mesmerizing behavior. She had shown a marvellous talent on the quick in battle with Selphie, had a timid but revealing conversation with Quistis, had gotten hysterically protective over his safety with Irvine and finally had outright admitted her stance of attraction with him with Zell. The signs had been there all along for him to figure out, but he in his dumbass methods had failed to pinpoint the pattern only until this precise moment. Even in his haste and overprotectiveness during the time of her coma, he only reacted like that out of his hardened stance as a Balamb Garden SeeD operative. The military had damned his mind and his thinking.

That and the damning fact that he had no mother and no father.

Well- he did, but he had no memory of their appearance, voice or being. A virtual nonexistent state.

Here he was-yes, he finally faced it-in love with a woman who had physically seen her parents and lived with them fully until both of their tragic deaths. Both of them were in a similar boat, as was the four other members of the orphanage gang. They were truly a small and powerful family if they could get over their petty differences.

A guage made a noise that was disconcerting. He didn't want to check, but he was bound to anyway. Life support read at less than ten percent. The jet fuel monitor was on its dregs. He could feel the pace of his movement slow, but her frame was twice as big in his view than when he had started. She was coming close to him.

"Damn it all, just a little more gas," he said forcefully.

He cranked the jets up to their fullest, a death knell to any astronaut, but his mind was made up anyway. His death would be the final frontier, at least he would be with her. She had come to the same conclusion from her end. From her position, every time she tumbled in a certain direction she saw him approaching and her heart ached a bit when she tumbled out his view.

His Life support guage reached five percent, and he felt a tightening within his suit and the air within his mask begin to deplete. He didn't bother cursing, he only continued to press further.

Closer...

Closer...

Closer.

Like a dream, she rolled around in one complete circle with her back to him- like she was sitting in a chair- and he came right up and embraced her with his arms around her stomach.

She immediately clasped his hands and held on tight, and his body ceased her unnerving tumbling and together they drifted in the endless sea and listened quietly at first to both of their guages slowly depleting.

Finally, she broke the silence, and her voice over their intercoms was like the sweet rhythms of a harp. "Squall... thank you. I heard your voice over the din of my thoughts and of that of the silence."

_Damn these helmets_, he muttered in his head as he tried to caress the back of her head with his forehead. "I can't believe Ellone's powers worked so well."

"Are we going to make it?"

"Don't worry about that." He carefully spun her around, and nothing was said as they both looked into each other's eyes. It was the first time they had done in that in the whole of their relationship, and they were breathless. Squall couldn't think of anything to say- she was so beautiful, so kind, so gentle, so alluring. Rinoa couldn't think of anything to say either- he was so rugged, so daring, so dangerous, and the _good_ kind of reckless. Together, they were helplessly drifting along. Together, they were happily waltzing toward the Elysian Fields, content in their warm embrace. A glint of light, auspiciously bright hit both of their eyes.

Rinoa let out a gasp, and Squall turned to see what it was. Nothing at first looked out of place, but on closer inspection there looked to be a very large outline of a dragon-like thing floating around near them. Then the Sun's rays hit it again and a gigantic dragon-shaped airship with Estharian markings and painted bright red and orange with a green dragon's mane and yellow beady eyes near the cockpit was clearly seen.

"Now, _that's_ a pretty sight," Squall said, off-handedly. He noticed Rinoa look at him funny. "Not _the _prettiest sight out here, though."

She giggled at that.

"Hold on to me," he said as he checked his guages, "I have just enough fuel left. It might not get us all the way there, but we'll improvise then."

She nodded and held onto him tightly, as he fired up once again. The jetpack sputtered badly but propelled both of them forward at a snail's pace. The airship was a monster indeed. Easily a quarter mile long and equipped with four sets of powerful cannons and railguns. It badly needed some repairs done on it, but possibly looks were deceiving. It was Estharian-built after all.

The airship slowly tumbled over one time, and Squall and Rinoa positioned themselves near its head, the cockpit. The jetpacks sputtered out completely, and a small bit of panic clutched their hearts, but Squall held her closer and pressed further with the sheer weight of tumbling. They followed the path of the ship's course and ended up near the rear cargo hold. Squall reached out his hand along the ship's flank and caught a hold on one of the ridges. Holding firmly there, he studied the ship's exterior and found the hatch with a button depressor and opened the hatch up. A lot of force expelled out of the release, and they waited for the pressure to ease before sinking within the bowels of the mighty airship.

Squall closed the hatch shut and forcefully climbed down the wall to the control panel near the floor. He found the oxygen regulator panel and cranked it up to full capacity. There, the two of them waited for the room to fill up with O2 while the last of their guages depleted fully. An intense moment hit them, as the room slowly filled up with oxygen and their suits slowly depleted of oxygen. They started to sweat profusely, and their breathing unfortunately increased.

A full two minutes went by before Rinoa prodded him to check the panel. He did and felt satisfied that the room was at an adequate level. He started to go for his helmet, but he felt her arm.

She looked ecstatic. "Is the air safe to breathe?"

He hadn't thought of that. Who knew why this airship was up here in space unattended? He looked at her perplexed, and then he shrugged his shoulders and cupped his helmet. He slowly depressed the levers and unhooked the helmet and slowly took it off.

No sooner than he did that and he started convulsing. He dropped the helmet and held his throat, and she widened her eyes and started flailing her arms.

Then he laughed and looked at her slyly and took a big breath of fresh air from the room.

Her face soured up and she punched him hard in the chest, smiling slyly. He couldn't stop laughing, but his laughing died down to a sense of awe as she slowly took off her helmet and revealed her lovely, sweat-soaked face. She played with and did up her hair to something modestly respectable given the conditions and tried to dry up the wetness on the back of her neck. She dropped the helmet to the ground, satisfied that the air was now prevalent around her. She grasped the zipper on the front of her suit and slowly slid it down to her waist and shredded off the top half of it. Her beautiful hourglass body, stained with her sweat and scent clasped his attention. Her black tank top undershirt and her tan skirt were pasted to her pink-toned body and she ruffled it up as best as she could, accentuating some of the finer parts of her body in the process. She stepped out slowly, bending over, twisting this way and that until the finally the dreaded suit was off for good. She cracked her back, played with her hair some more and took note his extremely interested expressions.

"Listen, midnight cowboy, are you going to gawk all day in that suit? It is _so_ unflattering for you."

He gave a visible gulp and missed the zipper about four or five times before finally taking it off. She was a little more covert about admiring him than he was of her, but she couldn't help but notice that his white undershirt was practically stained the color of his skin and accentuated the fine abdominal and chest muscles he so elegantly had. The gunblade of his was, as always, strapped snugly to his confounded belt-oh, how good images came to her head with that!-and she was curious to see that it was a different model from the last time she saw him. However, she was surprised to find her weapon snug in his belt.

"Squall!"

He saw her look at the Shooting Star. "Yeah, I'd figured you want this safe and sound." He took it off and handed it to her, along with a fresh set of darts kept snugly in a nice purple pouch.

She gleefully took it and was glad to feel the old familiar weight in her hands.

Squall loved the way she looked at that weapon. She might have been truthfully a pacifist, but there was no doubt she had a guilty pleasure or two along the way. _I should probably start the air process for the entire airship_, he thought suddenly. He turned back to the panel and was surprised to see the process already underway. He studied the panel a bit more and nodded approvingly when he found out he could speed the process up. He switched it to that and saw the guages jump from five to ten to fifteen percent complete in a matter of seconds.

He heard her clear her throat, and he turned and blinked his eyes in surprise. She stood coyly and daintily with her hands behind her back, one foot playing with the other and a lock of hair over her right eye. Her beautiful green eyes glowed brightly in the dim light of the ship.

He gulped again and was at a loss for words.

She smiled big at him.

He scratched his head and gave his usual stoic expression.

Her eyes dropped to the floor. "Thank you, Squall." She looked at him deeper this time. "You rescued me again." She placed a hand on her chest, clutching the pendant that held his ring. "I can't thank you enough."

He looked away. "Don't worry about it. I just did what I wanted to do." Inside, his mind started beating at him, telling him to give in for once.

She smiled but didn't giggle. She only fixed her dress up and her hair once more and then held out her hands wide, in an embracing stance.

He blinked furiously. "Wh-What?"

"The space suit was in our way before," she said coyly. "I couldn't feel you properly."

He didn't make a move right away. She had the feeling he was unsure of what she wanted, which didn't surprise her.

"Give me a hug," she said.

He still didn't make a move, but she saw him loosen a bit.

"A real tight one!" she stressed, hugging her own self in the process. "I need to know that I'm still alive."

"I see you, so you're still alive."

She giggled and shook her head. "You are too silly sometimes."

"Well...uh..." he started to say, caught by her gaze. "L-Look at our situation right now." He saw her smirk at him. "W-We may be alive right now... b-but uh.. w-well, how about we go check out the ship a bit, huh?"

She lunged at him and embraced him hard. He had no choice but to react, and they held each other there in the room. The panel behind him dinged a successfully oxygenated ship, but he was oblivious to it. It was an awkward hug, but she didn't give a shit about that.

"Rin-Rinoa, I think we should-"

A horrible screech rocketed throughout the airship, and Rinoa gave a loud gasp. Squall tried to pull apart, but Rinoa now clutched him in fright. They heard a sound of nail-like feet scraping against the floorboards somewhere nearby. The door to the room had a glass-like shield, and something dark and scaly swept by the glass. Squall forced himself away and unsheathed the Punishment. He checked the chamber and was disappointed to only find three shells within it. The only three he had.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"I don't know, but it was definitely something unfriendly." He walked slowly towards the door and peered through the glass. He scanned the entire length that the window provided him but could find nothing. The room beyond the glass panel was something of a stairwell chamber connecting the rear of the ship to the front as well as to the first level. They were apparently on the second. "The oxygen release must have woken this thing up," he mused aloud.

"What if there's more than one?" she asked.

"Then there's multiple of them," he replied snidely with a small grin on his face. She smacked the back of his head, and he quietly chuckled as he put his hand on the door panel. The motion depressed the door's hydraulics and it swung open to a deafening silence. The chamber seemed to have a vacuum that made their ears pop unexpectedly.

Squall gritted his teeth, kept the Punishment at face level and ventured out onto the platform. A catwalk greeted him to the cockpit of the ship, and there were other branching rigs to separate rooms of the ship as well as a set of stairs leading down to the bottom level. Light was scarce, which was an unsettling thing. What little there was only small circular slits in the ceiling that offered little in the way of comforting vision. They both stood for a minute until a vague sense of surrounding aided them. It was deathly quiet.

Rinoa clutched her gun with intensity and stayed behind him as best as she could. Her eyes darted every which way for the source of the foul screech and nasty appearance. Squall breathed in once and started walking down the length of the catwalk, peering in all directions down at the first floor. Hardly any light reached down there, and he couldn't tell if the floor was moving around or not. Something seemed to be down there.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up to the sound of distant noises. The ambience was horrible, and he didn't know if those were his own noises.

The answer was given to him when an unexpected streak of purple skin jumped across his vision. In his panicked state, he wasted a shell from his gunblade that crushed into the side of one of the ship's walls. The brief flash of light revealed the shape of a wretched looking creature's flank. A bulbous purple hide with scarred scalings was briefly seen before darkness plunged around them again. The empty casing of his shell landed beside their feet, and he unleashed a string of curses inside his head.

"What is that thing?" Rinoa whispered.

"Looks like an alien," he replied.

A scurry of feet sounded to their left, but they turned and saw nothing. An outline of the creature seemed to move faster than lightning across the walls, but it faded into darkness. A moment later, the sound was behind them, and they saw only the flashes of a long tail. A moment later, there were two sounds to their right and one above them. Rinoa clutched his arm to the point of drawing blood. Squall kept his mind focused, but even he despite his SeeD training was losing control.

Finally, he predicted the moment of reveal, as his eyes had become accustomed to the full darkness. However, the creature surprise the both of them by smashing through the catwalk just two feet in front of them, knocking Rinoa onto her back. The nine-foot tall purple monster cackled feverishly at a clearly stunned Squall Leonhart and then leapt back a couple feet to show off itself. Squall was indeed stunned: it had four muscular legs that ended in cow hooves, short stubby arms with sharp pincers, a long scaly tail, a small head with a glowing bulbous feature containing three swiriling lights possibly for vision, and a thick and heavy snout with a hundred rows of teeth sharp as scissors. What the hell was it? Who the hell knew.

It roared fiercely against the chamber and then whipped around and slashed Squall's stomach with its tail. It didn't cut him, but it bruised his skin and shocked the hell out of him. He stumbled back, and the teeth-filled snout charged forward. Squall reacted quickly, sidestepped the charge and then split the creature in half with one slick swipe of his sword. The creature immediately died, split in half with thick gobs of purple slime staining the catwalk. A long, bloated gurgling sound escaped its lips.

Rinoa babbled in fright at the creature's bloated and pus-filled body leaking all over the place. Squall just looked at the creature and noted how incredibly weak it was. "One shot kill?" he pondered aloud.

"That's good, right?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at his seemingly unimpressed demeanor.

He himself raised an eyebrow and poked the creature with his gunblade. "I...guess..."

Another roar alerted him, but this time a door was smashed open near where they had entered the stairwell chamber, and a red type of the creatures stormed out mad as hell. Behind him, Squall heard another cacophany and turned to see a pissed-off yellow monstrosity barrel out of the cockpit. Yet, a _third_ roar erupted down below, and a green sonofabitch hurled its weight up onto the catwalk behind Rinoa, threatening to collapse the catwalk.

He caught her eye. "Alright. So there's different types, and they're all apparantly not friendly."

"Ya think?"

The green one was the closest bitch to fry, but the red one seemed to be the more aggressive one and the most defiant. It actually stormed past its green friend and kicked him to the side in order to bite Rinoa's head off. Squall somersaulted over Rinoa and slammed his sword down into the red creature's snout. The hit truncated the appendage, but the creature was more durable than its purple counterpart and it held his ground and fought Squall in close quarters combat. The green was still dazed from having its head smashed into the wall. The yellow charged Rinoa, although its countenance seemed to be one of waywardness mixed with a bit of drunk driving. It had a hard time walking in a straight line. Rinoa put a bolt into its chest and stumbled it to its knees. She stood up and kept the pace, peppering the creature with a round of ten bolts making in into a yellow pinata, before she reloaded. The yellow bastard let loose a string of shrieks, but its waywardness sent warbling echoes across the chamber that weren't directed at her in particular. The green one seemed to awaken, and it apparently was imbued with magic. It fired a Thundaga spell and sent her flying down to the bottom floor.

Squall cursed at the manuever, kicked the red hard in the stomach and spun around and decapitated the green creature. The green though survived the deadly assualt and sputtered around headless though silenced of its magical prowess. The red hit back with a claw swipe to his back, but Squall doubled back with a hacking off of all four of the red's legs and then a second chop to the head. The red in a pool of disgustingly foul red slime. The green stumbled to its feet, and Squall split it vertically down the middle. He turned to the yellow, but Rinoa's ten attacks finally did the bastard in and it died there on the catwalk. Purple, yellow, green and red slime covered the catwalk and part of his clothes. And the area stunk worse than a fucking stockyard.

He heard moan and rise to her feet and he hurried down to the first floor. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, you're a damn good fighter, y'know."

"I can never come out unscathed."

She felt his back and pulled her back to reveal a bit of blood.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, looking at her skin that was a bit turned up from the electrical spell.

"Nothing a little TLC could do."

"TLC?"

"Oh, come on, Squallie."

"You'll have to tell me about that some time. Right now, we need to see if the rest of the ship is safe to tread."

"Sure," she replied unsatisfactorily.

He nodded vaguely aware of her teasing smile and walked steadily across the bottom floor of the chamber. A control box was nearby on the wall, and he forcefully cranked it open appalled at the wetness of the dust that clung to the latch. The equipment inside looked like it hadn't been touched upon in years. There were sixteen switches, and he turned them all on. Slowly the lights all lit up within the ship, and he was amazed-apart from the four dead corpses- how beautiful the ship looked still in its decaying state. Lots of repair work needed to be done, but maybe just maybe the ship could still be able to fly if it reached the earth again. He had a wild thought that maybe it could fly in space, but then he realized that it couldn't because it would've been doing that already. He closed the box and decided to pick a door of one of the five readily available for choice and went through it, Rinoa on his faithful heels.

The door revealed a "commons" area, what looked to be a former mess hall. Dried blood stained parts of the floor and the walls. Food tables were overturned, and some of the chairs were broken. Articles of torn clothing were everywhere stained with blood and dust, and a decayed limb of a former human was stuck in an incongrous spot behing a panel in the floor. A smell of decay, faint as it was, lingered in the air.

"Looks like an info panel over there," Rinoa said, pointing to the bar area. There were still hard drinks in the cooler on the wall, though how good they tasted was a means to be undertaken.

Squall actually violated a tenent of his SeeD code and went to pick a drink out. Rinoa blinked in surprise as he took a bottle of gin off the cooler and forced it open. An actual whiff visibly leaked out of the glass, and he sheepishly grinned.

"A ripe one, alright."

"You... aren't really-"

He gulped a big one, and winced his eyes at once. Some of it dribbled down his chin, but he managed to consume most of it.

"You are insane," she said, shaking her head.

A couple tears streamed down his cheeks, and he placed the bottle down. "Wakes... you up, though." He coughed once and then turned to the panel. "What have we got here?"

She sighed, shaking her head some more and joined him to read. There were scientific papers, detailing what looked like an experimentation facility the Estharians were committing for a genomes project.

"Propagators?" Squall asked rhetorically.

"What?" Rinoa asked, caught off guard.

"Propagators," he replied, indicating the name on the main paper. "They were making Propagators."

"I don't understand."

"Well, I don't really either, but when I was at Garden, we heard stories about something of a cloning project the Easterners were trying to create. A sort of pro-life stance. They wanted to preserve the qualities of life that made humans special and to be able to genetically enhance them with emotion-senses."

"What for?"

"To be able to function independently in order to give a humans a break throughout their daily duties in life."

"Like robots?"

"Yeah, very similar. Although, these would be like humanoids, kind of. Not fully human, but more like substitutes." He read further. "Apparently, though... the scientists underestimated the power of emotions."

"How?"

"They were killed by their own creations."

Her eyes widened. "Here in space?" She looked back at the torn limb on the floor. "Is that what happened?"

"Yes, most likely that red one. The reds were given more aggressive states of mind, supposedly to... act as the warrior-type rage of humans. Thus, they were stronger to deal with. The purples, on the other hand, were the opposite and much weaker. However, they were good at scouting and alerting the other three colors about an enemy's presence. I guess that's why we saw him first. The yellows were basically useless but loyal and faithful creatures meant to always be a vanguard for humans. The greens were given magical abilites to act as shamans and religious-minded aspects of humans." He scratched the back of his head. "I guess there's something to be said about the kookiness of scientists."

"Why are using the plural sense to describe these... Propagators?"

He didn't answer right away, drawing her unease. "That's because... there's eight of them total. Two of each color."

They both looked at each other and then heard the sounds coming outside the door. She cocked the fresh round in her gun, and he did the same for his.

Squall opened the door and had to take another surprised gape. The other four Propagators were in the chamber room, but they were actually reviving their brethren.

"What-Squall?"

"I don't believe it," he stammered.

The snouts of the Propagators oozed out a thick gooey blue-colored slime over the corspe of their fallen brethren that consumed their entire body. The new slime stunk worse than the old one! Rinoa hung behind him, her Shooting Star coming dangerously close to stabbing him in his back. The Propagators succeeded in fully reviving their comrades, and the four fallen stood up and let loose a tremendous roar that shook the whole ship.

Then, all eight of them turned slowly and faced the two wretched humans that dared to lay a finger on them.

A tense standoff ensued with none making a move. The Propagators studied the two intensely, their swirling lights with their goo-shaped heads probing both Squall and Rinoa's body. After at least five minutes, the enemy made a move. The Yellows stayed in the back and did weird little movements that made no sense whatsoever, the Purples guarded them with their short stubby hands balled into fists, the Greens guarded them with bright swirling balls of elemental magic and the Reds stood out in front with a gnashing of their teeth-covered snouts. Squall and Rinoa slowly walked out into the vast chamber and stood side-by-side. Squall held the Punishment and defiantly stood erect plotting his next move. Rinoa held the Shooting Star against her chest... and felt something inside her she dreaded would come sooner or later. She felt a burning in her chest and stomach and a clouding of her mind. She didn't want Squall to find out, but would he even know about it anyway?

The Propagators made the first move. The Greens unleashed thunder magic over both of them, and the Reds charged viciously. The Purples corralled the wayward Yellows into line. Squall fought off the intense thunder magic, while Rinoa ducked to the side. The Reds split off, and one smacked the wall above Rinoa's position while the other kicked Squall into the air and then slammed him into a wall. Rinoa fired her bolt gun clean into the throat, head, chest and groin of the Red Propagator, but the damn creature was a fucking tank and it took in all the damage and then punched her in the gut. She doubled over and fell on her face and felt the intense power within swell to greater heights. She would not be able to control it any longer. Her Red assailant stupidly ignored her and turned to the man.

Squall painfully got up and noticed both the Greens and the Reds advancing slowly with the other four doing cheerleader moves in the background. He did not have any GFs on him, which was a sad sight to bear. He felt naked without them. With the Punishment gripped in hand, he still had some magic spells-fire and ice to be exact- and he unleashed first one and then the other against the Reds tearing Rinoa's to bloody pieces and severely hampering the other. One immediately died, and the other genuflected enough for Squall to kill it in one shot. The Greens were not affected by magic and they fried Squall again with their thunder magic. It seemed the surviving six could not cure the Reds- they could only revive their respective colors. The Yellows and Purples gave mounting catcalls to the Greens, and one of the Purples got brave enough to charge Squall and knock a serious punch to his chest. Squall burped up blood and fell on his ass, dislodging a shell that exploded the purple's head in one clean burst. The Greens, pissed, pummled with stronger burst of lightning while the other Purple revived his comrade.

Squall slumped to the floor and the Propagators surrounded him. Rinoa looked up from her pained position and saw Squall's shocked expression. She saw his pain and terror, and like a mother bear noticing her cubs in danger she grew massively irate. The tenor and lighting of the ship dimmed, and Squall and the Propagators immediately looked over to her.

Rinoa changed. Her hair stood on end. Her eyes blazed with a fiery green. Her skin charged an electrical pink. Her clothes billowed in an unseen wind, heaving her chest and stomach with every breath she took. She levitated off the ground and spread her arms wide. A blue aura glowed around her, and she muttered a perverse incantation in a muffled and deep voice. Then, without warning, a pulsating light swept off her body and consumed the six Propagators plus the two dead Reds. A string of horrible, dying howls escaped the creatures and then a blinding yellow light scorched the miserable fucks to kingdom come. The smell of death consumed the entire ship, the blaze of light ceased, the ship's lighting returned, and Rinoa slumped back to her original state.

The Propagators were gone, and there remains were nowhere to be found.


	35. Eyes on Me

**EYES ON ME**

The spaceship had been full of noise and carnage. In a split second, a great wrath and fury had torn it all away, dissipated the Propagators and returned the vessel to its bland and echoing darkness.

He had searing pains in his back from the fury of the Red monster's wrath, but Squall was much more taken aback by Rinoa. For one shrill moment, she had been filled with rage and her body had glowed furiously bright. She now kneeled panting in a fit of exasperation. For several minutes, both of them remained in their positions against the derelict silence of the spaceship until he finally made a move. It was slow and cautious, and he felt somewhat afraid of this beautiful girl kneeling in front of him. It was fear tinged with intrigue.

"What..." he began in a timid voice, with what sounded like cotton wedged in his throat, "...what was..._that_?"

She clutched her chest as if she were having a heart attack, and she closed her eyes.

"Rinoa! Are you alright?" He put an arm around her and pulled her in close.

She lifted her eyes to him like a baby looking up at her proud parents, and the doe-ness of her expression melted him in a trance. "My body's heating up a bit," she whispered.

"Wh-What does that mean?"

She slowly shook her head and then rapped him on the nose. "You're even dumber than Zell sometimes, y'know?"

He knew he couldn't stop the redness from embellishing his cheeks, so he just scratched the back of his head instead. "Well-er-well, really, are you alright? You just, like, _annihilated_ those bastards." He took another look behind him and was still amazed to see no sign at all of their presence-not even an ooze-like appearance of their corpses, not even scratch marks from their claws on the floor. "That was, like, insane."

"Well, that was part of the reason my body's heated up now."

He looked at her for more.

Her breathing slowly came back to normal, and she could feel her heart resorting back to a regular beat-even despite being in his presence. She placed her arms around his and said, "When I saw you there on the ground... about to be overcome by them... I just..." She hesitated, thinking about the inevitable conclusion she would have to tell him. "I just... was just filled with rage."

"No kidding."

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Er-I mean-yeah, I guess you saved my life this time."

"Well, gee, I guess you're welcome."

"I'm grateful for it. Kinda curious how it came about. Never seen you with that type of magic before."

She looked to the side a bit then looked back at him. "It was an intense feeling."

He might have been dumb to sensuality, but he knew evasion when he saw it. Against his better judgment, though, he declined to question further. Besides, there was cause to celebrate a triumphal victory against some experiments a group of wayward and ill-informed scientists had concocted on this ship. Gin was in session for sure, despite it being several years too ripe.

"Time for a drink," he said bluntly and got out of her embrace.

She watched him walk back to the bar in a quick hurry and was momentarily glad that he wasn't too persistent in his questions. Unusual for him, to be sure, but she was glad of this occurrence. The spell that had inflicted her was too great of a magnitude. She felt she needed a drink, too. Although she wasn't much of a drinker. The only real thing she wanted at this point was the warm fuzzy feeling of Angelo rubbing his muzzle against her leg. It had been quite a while since she had last seen him.

Rinoa hauled herself up to her feet and followed him into the bar where the gunblader was already dabbling in some experiments of his own.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Mixing some of this gin with some rum and a bit of lemon."

"That doesn't sound too good."

"Ever try it?"

"No, and I don't plan to."

He gave it a quick smell and formed a small smile. "Smells pretty good."

"Uh-huh."

He gave a quick taste and couldn't hide a wince. "Tastes-pretty good, too."

"Is there anything that's not...ripe."

"The rum." He held a bottle of _Davignoc_. A long established Centran brand that was in plenty stock onboard this ship. "This brand rarely goes out of taste...and style apparently. This one's got nice ridges on the side."

"I hate rum."

"Nonsense. I bet it's real good." He got out two glasses and inadvertently deposited the flight manuel for the ship onto the floor. He picked it up, and as he poured two glasses worth of brown, crude-like liquid, his eyes popped open with astonishment. "Well, I'll be damned."

"What?"

"We're onboard the _Ragnarok_." He said it as if he had just found Eden's presence.

She was about as interested as watching paint dry on a house. "And?"

"_And_? Rinoa, this is an absolute treasure. Thi-" He suddenly remembered she wasn't a part of SeeD training. Naturally, this information would have passed her by. He scratched the back of his head again and took a long gulp of his glass. The rum was very smooth to the taste. "The _Ragnarok_ was Esthar's prize research vessel that did frequent trips to the Moon and to the nearest planet, Titan, for scientific discoveries. The Easterners had been the frequent pilots of the aircraft in configuring botanic and carnivorous species on the two spheres for potential use on the Earth. It had been commissioned for flight shortly after Adel was launched into space."

She slowly sipped her rum and scrunched her nose at the taste. "Oh, that's exciting, Squall."

"It's the fastest vessel known to man on this earth."

"Faster than a bullet train?"

"Oh, yes. Imagine Selphie piloting this thing."

"Ooh," she said squeamishly. "_That_ would be a disaster."

They both laughed at that.

"So..." she asked. "What's been happening since I was out of touch with the world?"

_Ah, finally_, he thought. _A chance for a recap_. Except he couldn't form a coherent description. Chiefly, he realized that for most of her comatose state, he had been purely out of touch with the rest of the world himself. Always pining and crying out his asshole over her. He really could not recall much.

"Well, something must have happened," she prodded.

"Uh.. we had sort of a memorial for the people who had fallen on Centra. Then...uh...we sought Edea's help... now that she was back to normal.. in her previous state that is...then we went searching for Ellone... couldn't find her anywhere, really... then we went back to FH... and then...went to Esthar. Then we were launched into space...and..uh..here we are."

He looked at her sheepishly like a grade schooler looks to his teacher upon completion of a homework assignment.

She just stared back with one of those familiar disarming smiles on her face. "You are a complete and total lummox."

"Ah, come on Rinoa, not a whole lot happened. I'm sure.._now_...a lot of shit is going down-"

"-because I released Adel, right?"

He blinked. "Well, now... it's not _your_ fault. You were, like, completely psycho up on that space ship and all."

"Completely..._psycho_?"

"I mean-" Softness was so _not_ his style. "Quistis and I-she volunteered to go up with me with you-Quistis and I didn't know what to think. Something had taken a hold of you-you were missing your eyes-your body was all glowing and shit- and you were walking around in stilted movements, and at times you would, like, flashpoint to certain areas of the ship in a split second. And all this time, you were singing this weird, lyrical high-pitched song that sounded like one of the revelers in Edea's parade when she was a Sorceress back at Deling City."

Out of breath, he poured himself another glass of rum. "It was the strangest-really, _the_ strangest thing I have ever seen."

She watched his every movement, as he poured the glass, heavily placed the rum bottle down and then rigidly gulp down the nasty-tasting rum. Every move poignant like his all-too familiar SeeD ways. "I don't remember any of that," she said suddenly. "Only the frighful instance of Adel looking at me after she was released-after _I_ released her," she added in a whisper.

"No need to worry."

"What?"

"No need to worry. We'll just have a talk with the Estharian President, get the military riled up and then attack her and rid her presence once more off this earth."

"So somebody _else_ can deal with her?"

He sighed and leaned against the counter. "Not what I have in mind."

She stared down into her half-empty glass. "Squall, I need to tell you something. I-"

"What's that noise?" he cut her off.

"Wha-"

"-Shh!"

He held his hand out in mid-motion and looked positively stupid listening into the blankness of the ship. She was about to respond in kind, but then she heard a tiny bit of racket somewhere above them. "The... cockpit?" she asked.

"That's what I think it is." He looked behind him and noticed at least eight more bottles of Davignoc. "Party time in the cockpit, eh?" He gathered all of the bottles over her shaking head and then headed out of the bar.

She followed him out and up the staircase and across the catwalk. The chirping sounds started resembling squawks off a comlink, and it sounded like somebody was trying to get into contact with the _Ragnarok_. Squall set the rum case on the floor and manually opened the sealed doors. They opened and revealed the starlit glass panes of a beautiful cockpit with seven seats, five computer modules and a 270-degree panoramic view. One of the modules was lit up, and a static voice was droning away.

Squall at first was taken aback. It did not occur to him that he would probably have to fly this thing back home. It about made him crap his pants.

Rinoa gently pried the rum case out of his hands. "Squall, honey," she said, jerking her head over to the module, "it's trying to talk."

"Oh, yeah."

She giggled and set the case down to the side while he walked his stone-laden legs over to the panel. The noise was incoherent, but only because the volume and ambience were distorted. He fiddled the two knobs until a sentence in mid-frame was being spoken.

"_-station...Attention, Ragnarok. This is Esthar Airstation. We are getting some reports about possible human activity in your rig."_

"What?" Squall asked. How could they have known? As if by instinct, he checked around him, around the walls and ceilings. He was surprised he hadn't seen the motion sensors before. The _Ragnarok_ was indeed a state-of-the-art vessel. Which begged the question: why didn't Esthar take care of the Propagator problem a long time ago?

_"Attention Ragnarok. This is Esthar Airstation."_

Squall pressed a button on the panel he hoped was the speakerphone.

It was. "High-powered radio station?" Dumb response, but it quite baffled him nonetheless.

Silence at first belied a response. Then: _"Ragnarok... is this you? Ragnarok do you copy? Ragnarok do you copy?_"

Squall pressed the button again. "This is the _Ragnarok_."

Rinoa could barely suppress a squeal. She had had enough of the cold darkness of space.

"_Whoa!"_ exclaimed whomever was the air traffic controller, in a breach of protocol. "_Is this really the Ragnarok? You're in space, right?"_

_Of course I'm in space, you fucking dimwit,_ Squall mused shaking his head. "Yes," he replied, "however, I don't know where I am as far as coordinates go, sir."

_"Roger that Ragnarok. No need to worry. We can track you from here on out."_

A sense of relief overpowered him. It had only been maybe a day, but it was a day far too long for his liking. Especially when he considered the fact that the Earth was now polluted with monsters.

"_Oh, Ragnarok, it's been seventeen years!"_

_Damn... this guy's masturbating over a ship!_ Squall almost burst out laughing at the thought of that. Of course, that humorous idea was dispelled thanks to his SeeD training. He immediately thought of the fuel cost. How long had this rig last seen a fueling depot? "Can we make it back?"

_"Like I said, no need to worry. A fueling capsule had last been dispatched some three years ago. But from the looks of our data, you should have enough fuel to make a return trip home._"

_Good enough for me._

"_Alright, to make this process work, enter your location into the atmospheric reentry program. We've got the coordinates, and you've got the lock-in sensors. All that needs to be done is to connect the two. Once you've logged them in, we can guide you done. All simple and sweet, no?"_

"Where is this atmospheric reentry program?"

_"You in the pilot seat?"_

"Uh-" He looked around and found seven seats. "Too many seats here," he said defeatedly.

_"No sweat. Look to the front and there should be three seats there."_

"Right."

_"The one in the center is the pilot's seat."_

"Right."

Rinoa watched his every move, stilted as it was. She cocked her hips to the side and rubbed her right arm with her left hand. A lock of hair fell into her eye, but she kept it like that. As usual, he was oblivious to her playful mood and for once she didn't mind a bit. She just watched him do his work.

He settled into the pilot's seat and relished the cozy cushion embracing his ass and the back of his head. It almost put him right to sleep-something that he would have love to consume himself in. Unfortunately... not to be the case.

He found the intercom button over on this panel and pressed it. "Alright, I'm in."

_"Good. See the touch panel in front of you?"_

He looked at the panel and found an array of knobs that did some sort of function, but there was also a keyboard connected to an LCD monitor. Obviously, the "touch panel". "Got it," he asserted.

_"Alright, now just type in these codes. Ready?"_

He positioned himself forward towards the panel and pulled the keyboard out for a better grasp. "Shoot."

"_WJHEIE/..."_

"Entered." _Interesting code_, he thought.

"_Good. Now 2872/HD-IEU."_

"...Entered."

_"No problems?"_

Despite the stupidity of the code's framework, the lights on the monitor blurted up and a dynamic view of the ship's framework appeared to him. All systems were go, and the atmospheric trapping was locked on to the waystation on the Estharian continent. "It's all good," he confirmed.

_"Wonderful. Just one more thing to do. Turn off the gravity generator. It will conserve fuel and make your return trip that much more efficient._"

He found the knob right away, right next to the touch panel. "Alright, that should do it."

_"Congratulations, Ragnarok. You are home free."_

Home free. The two greatest words he had ever heard in a long while.

_"One last thing we need to tell you."_

"What's that?"

_"This ship is equipped with music from one of Esthar's many radio satellite stations. Just punch it on the touch panel if you like. From all of us here at ground control, Ragnarok, we wish you godspeed once more."_

The static died down, and Squall automatically turned on the station as the gravity generator kicked into full gear. Fine violin music began to play, a soothing melody for the ears.

A shocked expression came out of Rinoa behind him, and he himself gave a start but he managed to cinch his seatbelt in to stifle the weightlessness. It wasn't excessive, but the loss of a bit of gravity was a bit unnerving at the start. He looked behind him, but she was nowhere to be found.

Then he saw movement above him, and suddenly Rinoa plopped down into his lap.

He was quite surprised. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she looked at him rather coyly. Her dress was a little loose, and one of her straps had fallen along her arm. "You should probably get strapped in. The... gravity's a bit off."

She ignored him with a smile and looked out at the vast sea of stars. Her body positioned between the two arm chairs and fit snugly in his lap saved her from flying all over the place. Her smile grew bigger as the viewpoint of the _Ragnarok's_ windows showed the Earth and all its continents. Her smile and his diminished a bit when they saw bits of red swarms around several of the continents that depicted the growing cloud of Adel's minions.

"We'll be home soon?"

"Hopefully," he replied shortly.

She looked back up into his face.

With a grunt he said, "Now go sit over there."

She shook her head slightly. "Just a little longer here."

He held her hand with the intention of prying it off his shoulder, but he couldn't do that. He just held on. "Why are you holding onto me like this?"

"Why are you holding onto _my_ hand?" she asked sweetly.

He looked down at his hand but kept it there anyway.

"You don't like this, Squall?" she whispered, lowering her head sadly.

He felt his throat tighten. "Um...j-just not used to it." He limply dropped his hand, which thudded on the arm rest like a rag doll.

She watched it thud and stared at it for a little while before staring back up at him. "What about when you were younger?"

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you feel safe and secure being held by your parents?"

"I was in an orphanage, remember?" he replied curtly.

His response stung her, and he regretted it immediately.

"I-" she started, "I didn't mean-"

"No, I'm sorry-"

An awkward silence.

"I can't remember anything about my parents," he said quickly. It felt so hard to say even that. Any other time, and he would have talked at length about not knowing the two-timing bastards. "I... don't know how long I was there at the orphanage, really."

She listened to him with a determined focus, watching every move his lips made and how his eyes reflected a deeping sadness that she was very unfamiliar with yet highly intrigued by. _There _is _a depth to him_, she thought to herself.

"I remember clearly events around the ages of seven, eight and nine real well, although I can't recall if I was born there or not. I have no memory of my mother... or father...but Ellone had always been there in my memory. Like the sister I never had. She was there to hold my hand." He stared off into space, past her gazing eyes.

She grasped his chin and pulled his gaze back to hers. "Made you feel safe and secure?"

He managed to wriggle out of her grasp. "Sure, I guess." He flicked his tongue in his cheek. "But..." The sadness seemed to return with a vengeance over his features. "...she left as well. Gone. Just disappeared." He seemed... on the verge of tears.

"I was afraid. I was afraid of having that...feeling of comfort taken away from me."

_Shit_, he thought. He had released it. After so long, he had released it to someone. Now he would feel that humiliation affect his cowardice. He began to sink into greater depression.

"Squall..." she breathed into his ear in a way that piqued his curiousity. "You were... afraid of losing us? All of us."

He was awestruck.

She looked awed as well, but in a different way. "That's why you kept your distance so much."

They both looked at each other. Instead of the humiliation he expected, he was met with caring eyes. He realized then and there that he was foolish for doubting her. She would never do something like that to him. That caused him to redden more so than ever before, and he couldn't stop himself from moistening at the edges of his eyes.

"I... didn't want to be alone," he whispered.

She embraced his neck harder and enveloped him with the perfume that covered her chest. Faint as it was now since before her coma, it nevertheless intoxicated him some more and the feeling of her soft flesh against his lips and chin aroused him deeply and passionately so that he was compelled to give a half-hearted hug around her waist.

"Squall..." she breathed into his skin, "you missed out on all the good things in life." She brought her head out and caressed his cheek. "You missed out on so much."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe."

She smacked his shoulder. "Definitely!"

"I had a SeeDship at Garden."

"Oh, geez."

He gave a half-hearted smile, and she complemented it with a bigger one to which, gradually, he widened his himself.

She gave a contented sigh. "I like it like this," she said in a strange faraway voice that aroused his attention.

"This," she explained further, pointing at their embrace. "Like when I was a little girl. I loved it when my mom held me like this." She giggled a bit. "My dad, too, when we got along that is."

He grunted. "I aint your mom." A sly smile was on his face.

She closed her eyes and giggled some more. "No, of course not." She opened her eyes and cupped his face with her hands. "But... now, Squall...you are the one who gives me the most comfort."

He widened his eyes.

"Comfort..." she dipped her eyes and took his whole body in, "...and happiness." She let that thought sink into him before she berated his shoulder again. "And annoyance and disappointment, too."

He blinked a bit, and not a word or sound was emitted except the thrilling sounds of the violins playing on the radio. Then:

"-Whatever!" both of them said together.

She giggled, while he shook his head, and then both of them were silent once more gazing into each other's eyes.

Finally, he had enough. "You should get back to your seat now."

"Nah," she defied, snuggling more into his body. "just a little longer here."

He complied and held her closer. It was strange, though. She seemed to be shivering now.

"We're going to make it home, right?" she asked again.

"We can only hope."

Another silence prevailed them, and the violins were joined by a flute and a harp. A lyrical sound that resembled the song that she had been singing aboard the _Excalibur_. It was a sound that penetrated the stillness and captivated the moment. He wondered why he got goosebumps from it.

She pulled away, and he could tell that something was troubling her. "When... we get back...we won't be able to stay together, huh?"

He blinked. "That's..." He blinked again, and he was caught off-guard by her statement. "No one can predict the future. There are no guarantees in life. I remember when you said those words, Rinoa."

She did the blinking this time, and then she deflated in his embrace. "That's not what I meant when I said that."

He rubbed her arms. "We'll figure out what to do when we get back on land. It'll all work out good."

She hiccupped and immediately tossed herself out of his lap and propelled her way over to the seat next to him. Her face had turned morose, and she slowly strapped herself into her seat like a slow-witted zombie. Squall's eyes were wide with worry, but he was so struck by it that he couldn't move out of his own seat.

She looked like she had just seen a ghost. Her skin was more pale than when she was in the coma. "They... They will all... be angry with me. They..." Her voice was barely a whisper, and her pupils were almost dilated. "They will want..." Squall could barely make it out, but it sounded like _to kill me_.

"Now wait just a damn minute here," he said.

"_This is Airstation,"_ the intercom rang in suddenly, jolting Squall's nerves in a frenzy, and ruining the violin tune. Rinoa did not even respond to the sudden interjection. "_Ragnarok, please respond._"

Squall looked at Rinoa a little bit longer. The raven-haired princess was now hunched over in a despondent-looking way.

"_Ragnarok, please respond._"

Squall pressed the button, looked at her again, and then replied. "This is the _Ragnarok._"

_"Good, alright. I don't mean to bother your return trip home, sir. I just have a few questions to ask you. We were, uh, collecting escape pods from the late Excalibur spacestation."_

He heard a groan come from her, and he turned to find Rinoa practically shivering in her seat. Her eyes were locked on a specific point on Esthar, the continent visible now from their view in space.

"_We have a pretty good idea of what happened, concerning the release of the Lunar Cry and the subsequent goings-on with the Lunatic Pandora._"

_Lunatic Pandora?_ Squall thought.

_"Judging from our obversations, no crew member or authoritarian of the Estharian administration is on that ship. Might we ask how many people are with you on the Ragnarok?"_

Squall pressed the button. "Just myself and one other person."

He saw her now turn towards him, and he was caught by a gaze of pure fright that stopped his blood cold. For a moment, it was hard to breathe and he barely heard the air traffic controller ask the next question.

"_What are your names, sir?"_

He collected enough spit to swallow to calm his throat down, but she kept up the stare. Finally he managed to say his own name. "My name...is Squall Leonhart. I am Commander of the Balamb Garden SeeD."

_"Ah, Commander Leonhart. Yes, we were wondering where you were."_

That thought unnerved him a bit.

_"Who is the other passenger, sir?"_

"The other passenger is Rinoa Heartilly, the daughter of the late General Rafeal Carroway of Deling City."

He heard her make a weird sound in her throat.

There was dead silence on the other end of the link. A silence more awkward than anything he had ever heard in his life.

Harsh static and incoherent voices broke the silence, and after several seconds of this the original controller came back on the line. "_Mr. Leonhart, did I hear you correctly? Who, again, is the other passenger?"_

His voice was glum when he spoke. "Rinoa.. Heartilly."

"_Dear Eden, Mr. Leonhart, you have the Sorceress Rinoa Heartilly in your presence. Goddamn, you are in one hell of a trouble!"_

"What?" Squall burst out. This was _not_ what he was expecting.

_"Contain her at once, Squall! You have no idea what she is capable of!_"

"This is bullshit," Squall demanded .

"Squall..." Rinoa uttered weakly. She looked at him in a frail manner. She literally looked like a fallen and wilted leaf, easily prone to snapping in half at the slightest gust of wind. Tears flowed freely down her face, and her body trembled viciously.

He drowned out the outbursts pouring from the com link, some of them downright demanding and upbraiding. Yet, he could not unbuckle himself to embrace her and comfort her like she had confessed that he made her feel earlier. So... now it all came together. Now it all made abso-fucking-lutely sense! The immense power she had consumed to kill the Propagators, the haunting repose she displayed on the _Excalibur_ that killed at least twenty guards and civilians, the transfer of power between herself and Ultimecia, everything boiled down to the most awful of truths.

There were three Sorceresses now, and one of them was with him.

She trembled and choked in her seat, entirely scared and weak and fearful. And yet he did nothing except stare like a dumbass who stares abhorently at a physically-disabled individual. The difference was that he was caught between a rock and a hard place. He loved this woman, and now he was supposed to detest her and ban her from existence-what did the motherfucking controller say..._contain_ her. What the fuck?

"Squall..." she tried again, choking on her words and on the tears that streamed into her mouth. "I've... become a Sorceress. I can't stay with you anymore, Squall."

_"Respond, Commander Leonhart!"_ sprang up suddenly the annoying voice of the controller.

He only stared at her.

She widened her eyes and pleaded with him. "I don't want the future. I only want the present to just stand still. I just want to stay here with you..." Her voice died down as she physically gave up. She felt the same way when she was out in space and her life gauges had terminated.

"Rinoa..." he uttered weakly.

_"RESPOND, GODDAMIT, LEONHART!"_

She swallowed and found her voice again. She clutched her chest, feeling that attack on her body once again. "Nobody will want to be around me anymore. Space will be my gravestone... just like it was for Adel."

Now he started shivering. He watched her deflate and sink into her chair, the tears neverending, her beautiful body now a shrivelled-up mass under her clothes. And still he could not move.

_"Mr. Leonhart. Whether you respond or not is your discretion, but the Sorceress will be confiscated upon your arrival into Estharian airspace. A top-ranking representative of the Lunatic Pandora will be on his way to personally escort the Succubus to the Laboratory. You _will_ follow his instructions, for there will be a vast army accompanying him. Do you understand?_"

"I'm scared..." she shivered. Her words were barely audible.

_"Do you understand?_"

His hands clenched into fists so tightly the knuckles turned white. He took in her shivering, her decrepit state, her total uncontrollable fright. She looked at him pleadingly for help, and he was about to go insane.

_"Squall Leonhart, do you understand!"_

Squall angrily pressed the button. "Shut your fucking mouth, you goddamned piece of shit!" He reached down for his gunblade, spun it around and jammed it into the comlink nine times before all the busted parts fell gloriously out of its panel and started hovering around the room. The frequency of the transmitter evaporated and all that was left was the radio that started replaying music.

He sighed forcefully and then tossed the gunblade to the side, which floated around where the rum case was left. He looked over at her and saw her briefly return to life with a confused expression on her face. He got out of his seat and started to hold her, but she held him at bay.

"Don't... I'm..."

"You're the only one who gives _me_ comfort and happiness, too."

She widened her eyes.

The music on the radio started playing both a piano and a harp, a sound that was vaguely familiar to both of them.

"I'm scared, Squall. I don't want to go back to that realm."

"They have to go through me first."

"Don't say things like that!" she yelled at him. "This is serious!"

"And you think I'm lying! I am serious about this, too. I'm not gonna let _anybody_ run roughshod over you!"

"Squall-"

"No! I've been a fool all this time! Pushing people away. Zell, Seifer, Quistis, Xu, Nida, Cid, Selphie, Irvine... you. I've pushed everybody away, and all everyone was trying to do was to get me to open up! To express myself, and _you_ the most of all worked to get me to do that!"

She melted in front of him. "Squallie."

"The only person I would ever allow to call me that, too."

The music swelled to a vibrant tempo with a flourishing violin with help from a majestic piano, and Rinoa remembered it quite well. "Squall, it's my mother's song."

"Really?"

"Yes. _Eyes on Me._"

"We should dance to it."

"Dance?" she looked at him funny. "How? There's no gravity."

"We'll improvise. Just like we did at Fisherman's Horizon."

"And at the SeeD ball?"

"Exactly. Now get out of that seat."

She did, and life breathed back into her.

_Whenever said my songs_

The voice of Julia Heartilly playing over the radio was magnificent and surreal, and her daughter was just as magnificent and surreal in her appearance, movement and grace. He swept her up into the air, and they hovered around for a bit gazing into each other's eyes.

_On this stage, on my own_

_Whenever said my words_

He took her hand and kissed it on the knuckles and then on the wrist, causing her to blush.

_Wishing they would be heard._

She came up to him and squeezed his right shoulder with her left hand.

_I saw you smiling at me_

_Was it real or just my fantasy_

His left hand held the crook of her back, and his other held her left shoulder and they both smiled at the slight awkwardness gravity had at their inconvienence.

_You'd always be there in the corner_

_Of this tiny, little bar._

They moved together, as the piano and the flute picked up a notch. Their movement increased fluidly much like it did when Squall got over his nervousness at the SeeD ball and started dancing like he knew how to do in the first place.

_My last night here for you_

_Same old songs, just once more_

He spun her around, and she lifted her arms up in the air like a soaring eagle. Both somersaulted in the air and then came back together in a fluid embrace.

_My last night here with you?_

_Maybe yes, maybe no._

_I kind of liked it your way_

She clasped both hands around the back of his head and then slowly traced them down his cheeks and then cupped his chin. She placed her cool forehead against his warm one and held it there for several seconds, their lips inches apart from each other.

_How you shyly placed your eyes on me_

She reared her head back, her hair flying to the side, her body moving forward into his and her fingers like claws gently scratching his chest.

_Oh did you ever know?_

_That I had mine on you._

They parted from each other and floated around, slyly eyeing each other before coming back by the hands and twisting and turning in mid-air between the seats. The music picked up tempo, and Julia Heartilly picked up her voice, singing to the heavens.

_Darling, so there you are_

_With that look on your face_

_As if you're never hurt_

_As if you're never down._

She spun around once, and he was there to come up behind her. She lifted her arms and he swooped underneath and embraced her belly. Her head rested in the crook of his neck, and they suspended above the floor.

_Shall I be the one for you_

_Who pinches you softly but sure_

She reached up and pinched his cheek with a giggle. He, in turn, pinched and rubbed her belly eliciting a soothing coo from her, which only caused her to pinch some more.

_If frown is shown then_

_I will know that you are no dreamer._

"A little moonlight, my dear?" Squall asked in her ear.

"I love a little light to shine in."

The music died down at first, but the flute soon picked up, and its ascending note carried them up to the glass ceiling as well. The music was like a riverside town where the local fishermen gathered in the nightime to smoke some hemp, eat some of the day's catch of fish and gather around for some nighttime story-telling with the littles ones off in their slumber. The easiness and splendor of the music drifted Rinoa and Squall up to the light of the Sun's reflection against the _Ragnarok's_ panes. The earth in all its splendor, despite the globs of monster residue, also bathed them in its glory. Squall lay on the bottom, and he held Rinoa on top of him with his arms clasped firmly around her waist. As the music heightened, they slowly turned over and over, their eyes closed, their voices humming to the tune, and with her head still nestled in the crook of his.

_So let me come to you_

_Close as I want to be_

He squeezed her waist tighter and kissed the lobe of her ear and then the skin underneath it. She opened her mouth to respond but only short breaths came out. Her body heated in excitement.

_Close enough for me_

_To feel your heart beating fast._

He kissed her neck again and opened his mouth, bearing teeth and bit down ever so gently, eliciting a cry of ecstacy from her.

_And stay there as a whisper_

_How I loved your peaceful eyes on me._

She clasped his hands tightly and looked deep into his eyes, before kissing his nose and then his brows and giggling afterwards.

_Did you ever know_

_That I have mine on you_

The music rose again, and they twirled in the air together once more, the light both from the Sun, the earth and the Moon flashing over them and bathing them in its glory. With their hands clasped firmly around their bodies.

_Darling, so share with me_

_Your love if you have enough_

_Your tears if you're holding back_

_Or pain if that's what it is._

She kissed his cheek, and he kissed her other. Their hands rubbed each other's backs, and they ended up bumping into the glass ceiling and the glass walls. Yet they kept right on caressing each other and taking in each other's scent. The closeness, the comfort, the happiness. It all enveloped the both of them. Their love for each other enraptured their bodies and enriched their minds.

_How can I let you know_

_I'm more than the dress and the voice_

They pulled their mouths away from the other's cheeks and stared at each other in love and wonderment. They embraced and just gazed at one another.

_Just reach me out then_

_You would know that you are not dreaming._

It was too early.

As the music dwindled in its splendid piano music, they merely hugged and settled back down to the floor. The _Ragnarok_ was within the earth's atmosphere, and the gravity enhancer was adjusting to the change in atmospheric pressure. They landed together on the floor and remained in their embrace, the warmth of their bodies entangled together, and their silence not awkward but soothing and compassionate. They dared not speak for a while in order to not ruin the special moment that they would never again be able to replicate. She only burrowed deeper into him, and he held her as closely to him as he could accomplish and they lay in silence staring up at the steadily fading blackness as the Earth's features began to come into focus.

* * *

The _Ragnarok_ was still descending in the atmosphere, even though the gravity enhancer had been thoroughly shut down and the landscapes were clearly coming into view. Squall nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

"You thirsty?"

She looked at him slyly. "You know... I think I will go for a little rum if you don't mind."

"Well... in order to do that... I need my arms free for a little while."

"Aww...I guess I'll comply." She reluctantly let go and he quickly got up to get the case and then hurried back to his position. "I forgot to get the lemons, if that's alright."

"I like mine straight, so that's alright."

"No diversity?"

"Not with alcohol, no," she giggled.

He separated out equal proportions, and they both clinked glasses and drank together the whole cups clean. He added more and they went slowly this time while gazing into each other's eyes.

"I'm glad I was able to meet you," he said solemnly.

"Me too."

"I remember the first time we had a lengthy conversation. In the home of that Forest Fox lady."

She giggled loudly, spilling her drink a little bit. "Oh, you were such an asshole then."

He laughed as well, spilling his drink on himself.

"You were _so_ into the mission back then," she added with a teasing smile, " it was so interesting."

"You gotta admit. It was a pretty good spat, right?"

"Of course it was. Now I know how to push your buttons," she added slyly, squeezing his nipples.

"Hey now, are we gonna be equal on this?"

"Oh, you dirty boy, you think you're gonna get away with that, aren't you?"

"It's not a bad idea," he grinned, as he stole a peek.

"Oh, you like what you see, do you?" She positioned herself to give him more of a view, but held back from full disclosure.

"You knew I was captivated the moment I first saw you."

"Of course. It helps to have a stunning white dress to accentuate the figure. That's why I wore that during your Commander ceremony at FH."

"Yeah. You gave me a pretty good slap that day, too."

"Well, you deserved that."

"...Maybe," he chuckled.

"Definitely," she chuckled, tickling his ribs.

He tickled her back and managed to rub her chest, which caused her to jab harder into his ribs which only increased his arousal until soon they were a mess of laughter and youthful sensuousness.

Finally, they lay panting and more than the top half of her breasts were showing for him, and his eyes widened with lust and appreciation. The sweat on her skin glistened in the light pouring through the _Ragnarok's_ windows. The warmth radiating off of both of them managed to heat them up quicker than they expected. He took off his leather jacket slowly and tossed it onto one of the chairs, and she slowly took off her blue coat and flung it on top of his. The black tank top she wore underneath barely concealed her body, and her pink-toned skin oozed sexuality to the highest extreme. He wore his wifebeater, and for the first time she saw how toned his muscles were and she could not stop looking.

Of course, since neither one of them had ever been in this situation before, it was more than a little awkward and the thought that Estharian officals from the Lunatic Pandora were coming over to "greet" them didn't exactly help out the matters either. But Squall had grown more in love with this woman than anybody had known, and he pressed up close to her and embraced her petite form and she embraced him back. They played with each other's hair and facial features and generally acted like they had never seen each other before and were awed at each other's presence. There was a certain "afterglow" moment in their touching that suggested otherwise, but the love that had grown between them in their sparring active days and through Rinoa's comatose days had systematically dominated everything in their lives. Now, knowing that the final hours lay in their immediate vicinity, they could do nothing but honor each other's presence.

The rum worked wonders, too, and it caused them to get more playful by the hour so that they didn't recognize when the _Ragnarok_ finally touched ground. They were freely grabbing the most private areas of each other and enjoying themselves in the process. At length, though, they merely enjoyed each other's company, and Rinoa felt obliged to opine a certain facet of her life that she wanted him to know.

"Have... I ever told you about how I became involved with the Forest Owls?"

"You had...uh... a disagreement with your father, right? And his connection with President Vinzer Deling?"

"That was only part of it. I actually had never even heard of the Timber resistance force at the time that I had left Deling City. That actually had a lot to do with Seifer's influence before I hooked up with Zone and Watts and all the other guys and gals who were part of the various "Forest" elements."

"Seifer? He had _that_ much of an impact?"

"Of course, silly, he was my ex-boyfriend, before he became so messed up."

"I would say _fucked_ up, but that's just me."

"Well, okay, he was _fucked_ up, but at _that_ time he actually was generally interested in life other than a SeeD soldier type. And I guess he never quite made it as a SeeD soldier, instead becoming a Sorceress Soldier or the equivalent of one.

"Anyhoo, I met him after I fled Deling City. You see, Squall, after my mother died in that car crash, my dad sort of lost his enthusiasm. He lost his will to inflict charisma against the Deling Congress and against even his own army. It seemed that he had lost too much of his exuberance with the death of my mother. He became belligerent and anal, and coupled with my growing pains as a young teenager those two personalities just did not match up very well. We fought constantly and _hated_ each other's presence.

"I had made a bowgun, the one I currently have right now, as a testament to prove my worth as a female soldier. Yes, I had ambitions about becoming a part of the Deling army, strange as that may sound, but the General would not have it that way. He absolutely refused to send his little girl out to the combat zones. His closest friend, who was a Senator in the Congress, felt that I was ready for a combat situation or at the very least a training session for it- but he had other reasons for his enthusiasm which I would soon find out. But in the meantime, my dad and he argued back and forth over it, while I snuck out to perfect my skills on my own time."

"Is that why you're so good at sneak shots sometimes?"

"Yes, though I was only ever good at hitting Geezards, Funguar and Buels. Nothing too special to say the least.

"One day, I happened upon the Balthazar beaches and came across an Adamantoise. A big nasty creature with an armored shell and a slick underbelly. It oozed out a nasty green liquid that I guess was its excrement or something like that, but it was very poisonous and toxic and could burn your arm clean off if you weren't careful. In my blind haste to prove myself and that Senator gentleman correct, I decided to tackle that creature on my own and crush it with one swift attack from my bowgun."

Rinoa laughed a little too herself and curled deeper into Squall's embrace. "My first shot missed completely and landed in the ocean some three feet over its head. The commotion caused him to spot me and descend upon me. At that point, panic overtook me and I forgot how to load my weapon so by the time I had got it down the creature was already atop me. I managed to hit it square in the eye with my second shot, but its tail knocked me over onto the sand and it held onto me pretty good. I lost the Shooting Star and was about to be crushed, before daddy came and killed the monster with one swift shot of his shotgun. He berated me then and took my bowgun away. I wouldn't see that thing again until his deathbed."

She sighed a little at the remembrance of that day, and Squall recalled the moment of his death. He did not mention that he hadn't felt anything for the passing away of Rafeal Carroway.

"Well, when daddy didn't care, the Senator did, and he consoled me in his office."

"Consoled you?"

"Yes, if that's what you want to call it. I was furious at my dad for not only reducing my ambitions publicly like that after the Adamantoise battle, but then he continued to squander away in depression while he let his army do whatever it wanted like terrorizing the citizens of the city and denying them their basic constitutional rights. Dad was just in a total state of pathetic despair which was really quite embarrassing when I look back on it. The Senator provided counsel and-"

"-What was his name?"

"It was Whigham. Oliver Whigham."

"The same Whigham who then killed your father and became the so-called Premier of Galbadian and Delinger forces?"

"The same," she confirmed.

He flinched at the memory of that repulsive stooge. "What did he do?"

"He fondled me in his office after slipping a drug in my drink. Luckily for me, the mint I had sucked on before I came into his office had a remedy within it- being borne from the spring areas of the Montoreaseu Plateau waterfalls- that could combat the harmful effects of this drug he slipped. He was just about to penetrate me before I came to. I cried for help and scratched him hard and bled him. He let go of me, and I gathered up my clothes and fled the building. I couldn't trust anybody there, not even my dad who was in the same building and well aware of what Whigham was doing at the time."

"Sonofabitch."

"I fled, Squall, with no particular direction at all. No goal in mind at all. I only knew south to be a good place to go, Timber to be exact since I had friends down there I used to visit during summer vacations. When I got to Timber I had absolutely no base to fall back on, except a few people I could rely on for shelter for a day or two. It was then that I entered this pub, I'll never forget the name of it Angel's Pub, that I found Seifer Almasy. Looking at all the different flavors of gin, as usual. You and he are the same in that regard, I think."

"The man and I know one thing in common."

She giggled. "He appreciated my spunk and introduced me to these Forest Owls and Forest Foxes he had met during his travels from Alcauld Island, where supposedly he was training at this place called Balamb Garden. Zone and Watts were naturally enraptured with me-primarily because I was the only pretty girl within their forces, their words not mine."

"They were right, of course."

She tickled his ribs. "At first, I thought their idealisms simplistic. Then, gradually, I found out a bit more about them and how much they hated President Deling and all and I came to realize that this was my true destiny. So, I resorted to crafting myself a new bowgun and then teaching them a few tricks of the trade of combat. Then, I found Angelo the sweetest puppy that became the most loyal dog I had ever known. Oh, I wish he was here right now."

"He's safe and sound with the others. In fact, I'm sure he's been a valuable companion since we've been gone from him. I know he's been by my side ever since you were comatose."

"That's good. I love that dog. About as much as I love you."

"Same here, my lovely Rinny."

She smiled and scrunched up her nose. "Yeah... I only like it when _you_ call me that."

"Yeah... me too."

They gave each other Eskimo kisses and then felt the rum kick in real good.

"A sleep together, perhaps?" she asked.

"Sounds like a plan, my sweet."

Thus, they settled into a short but peaceful sleep there together on the floor, unaware of the pending storm outside.

* * *

He woke up first and realized that they had been landed for a while. No matter. It was still peaceful. The light outside suggested late afternoon, and the Sun was about a couple hours away from settling completely. He looked down at her and found a pleasant smile on her face and her beautiful eyes closed softly and her chest lightly rising and falling. He admired her beautiful curvy body and relished the thought of her for several minutes.

He felt like getting a few minutes of fresh air, though, so he gently attempted to prod himself away from her embrace. He managed to get to a sitting position before she opened her eyes and looked at him like he was crazy.

He chuckled sheepishly. "Only going to taste the sweet air of the Estharian land once more, but I'll be back shortly."

"You better," she ordered, smiling.

He winked at her and waited for her to close her eyes again before fully getting up. He left his jacket and his gunblade behind and walked out of the cockpit and down the staircase for the cargo hold. There in the main expanse, he stretched his back out wide and was thrilled at the sound of his cracking muscles and bones. What a relief! He hit the button panel on the side and slowly the cargo hold doors opened up to a blinding brightness. He let the glare subside for a bit before venturing slowly out. The ramp led down to the rich soil of the Estharian landscape and he breathed in the rich salty smell of the earth much the same as he had done when he first set foot on the land outside the metropolis of Esthar. There was a salt lake nearby he reckoned, which suggested he was near the western seaboard of the continent.

However, he felt a strange surveillance system targeting him. There wasn't anything close by that he could tell, although the light was still blinding on him. There seemed to be a figure looking at him close by, but the light was shielding the sight away from him. He covered his face a bit and slowly exerted the effort to withstand the light on the sand. He then uncovered his face.

Seifer Almasy stood in front of him, his hands in the pockets of his gray pants. He did not have his usual trenchcoat on, because it was probably too hot to wear that. He instead wore a gray wifebeater, and his gunblade was nowhere to be found. He looked like Squall in appearance, which was probably done on purpose.

Squall dropped his hand limply to the side and felt betrayed once more.

"I've got to hand it to you, Squall, you sure know how to stage a good event."

"Why are _you_ here?"

"_I_ am the top-ranking official of the Lunatic Pandora."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, Squall. It's not cogent to be a dumbass."

"No kidding, Seifer, I was being serious."

"I am the Knight of Sorceress Ultimecia through her consul-in-charge, Sorceress Adel. Thanks to Rinoa, the entire world is now infected with Adel's minions and will soon congregate together in a massive and final attack on the metropolis of Esthar. The President won't have any time to react. _You_ won't have any time to react. Except, that is, if I don't do a couple of things first."

"And what are those?"

"Well, I think I only need one thing to accomplish the trick. You see, Adel has been out of service for a while. When she took to flight for the first time in seventeen years, she used up all of her energy and fell back down into the bowels of the Pandora. She needs a harvester, Squall, a fresh and lovely specimen in which to sap all the strength and power she must use to destroy the Earth once and for all."

"What?" Squall shouted, indignantly. "Listen to yourself! You're fucking insane!"

"Insane, huh? Hardly. I told you once before, Squall. All my life I dreamed of being in the service of a Sorceress, to live my life as an adventurer and a protector- not some useless, ne'er-do-well day laborer or some pathetic military brass. The life of an esteemed Succubus Knight brings one the glory that he seeks to have, that he _needs_ to have, Squall. This is above and beyond insanity. _This_ is a requiem!"

"A requiem?"

"Of the highest order. Eden can't top this. This is Hyne's work, pure and simple. He created the power that carries within these Sorceresses, and he uses them to shape matters on this Earth to a more _acceptable_ level."

"By killing millions of people?"

"Killing? Nonsense. It's martydom. It's the spiriting away of the old body into the new. Why believe in a concept of _life_ and _death_? Why waste time over a birth or a funeral? Millions die in abortions. Millions wither away to cancer or urban warfare. Still, millions are just as plopped from the mother's womb as millions are killed in car crashes by drunk drivers."

Squall blinked in the silence in which Seifer was expecting a response.

"Squall, you cannot stop the inevitable. You've been trying to ever since you became a SeeD."

"What do you mean?"

"You've been trying to shape a destiny for yourself that supposedly is written out for you. Cid made you a perfect candidate for that job. He forged the path for your way into Commandership. He allowed you total control over Garden for fuck's sake. He trusted you with commandeering foreign naval powers and whole armies. Under Edea, how was _I_ supposed to top that?"

Squall felt like a brick had been slammed in his face. "What are you saying? That you knowingly and willingly allowed those Galbadians to die?"

"Goddamn. There you again with that _death_ shit."

"Well, they aint here no more, Seifer."

"You're right! They're somewhere else. Somewhere where there is a peaceful interlude every once in a while. Somewhere the thoughts and violences of the present land do not conflict with their wishes, their wants or their needs. It could be within a vast magical kingdom or some dirt-ridden slum hole for all they cared. At least nobody is cutting their throats open and burning their limbs off. Nobody is cheating on them or forgering their names on legal contracts or molesting their children."

"Are you _that_ convinced?"

"More so than you are."

"I can see you feeling that way under Edea, since she was someone both you and I adored at a younger age. Our orphanage years were filled with that joy and love for life when our parents weren't around to fill that void. But how can you possibly feel that way under Adel- or for that matter, Ultimecia?"

Seifer appeared to hesitate, but a smirk soon smudged his face. "I can't expect to be bright as well as viscerally brilliant in combat, Squall."

Squall sighed. "Are you here for Rinoa?"

"Yes, Squall, I am. I also feel that this is fate beckoning once more. A sign from Hyne to display his goodness upon the world."

"I thought that honor went to Eden."

"Most people believe that, and yet most people are led down the rabbit hole far too often."

"You can't have her, Seifer."

"The act is over with, Squall. You had your heroic stunt. Bravely going into the depths of space with hardly any oxgen, hardly any support mechanisms. You found her with your heart and your will, and you finally opened up to your true feelings for her that you had suppressed over and over ad infinitum. Now, you stand here in the face of a Knight and an army of some five hundred turncoat Estharian soldiers with only a wifebeater and a rumpled pair of pants."

"Five...hundred Estharian soldiers?"

Seifer waved his hand in the air.

Squall felt an ominous presence around him and soon his body was covered in dozens of pinpoints from red laser scopes.

"Only takes one more wave of my hand to set it off, Squall."

He slowly looked from his chest over to Seifer.

"You cannot have her," he said weakly.

Seifer laughed and shook his head. "It looks she's ready to make a decision for herself, Squall."

Squall widened his eyes and turned behind him. She stood on the ramp, frozen both in fear and disgust. His jacket hung loosely on her shoulders, and his _Griever_ pendant hung angellically on her chest. At the sight of her, there was an incessant hissing sound echoing across the Estharian desert as the hidden soldiers finally showed themselves. Indeed, Squall and Rinoa felt overwhelmed as hundreds of greenies descended on the _Ragnarok_.

"Hold your advance!" Seifer demanded, and the squads stopped immediately.

Rinoa gasped at the presence of all the hatred, and the things she was going to say instantly died in her brain and she paled there on the ramp. Squall wanted to hold her then, but the laser points were still on him and he'd be dead with one footstep. Fortunately, Seifer called off the army and one by one the laser points slowly left Squall's body and the army retreated back into camoflauge, though their presence never left the scene.

Seifer waited until their visibility was gone, before he slyly turned to Rinoa who was quivering on the ramp. "Sorceress Rinoa-"

"Oh, please, don't call me that!" she begged.

"Hyne's descendant," he laughed.

"You goddamn pig!" Squall shouted.

"Oh, Squall, temper, temper now. You forget that with one deft move, I can have you killed on the spot."

"According to you, though, I wouldn't die- just switch over to a _peaceful interlude_."

"Ho ho ho, not _you_. See, I don't want _that_ to be your fate. You and I still have some unfinished business left to carry out. Unfortunately, you are only making things that more complicated. I fear losing the opportunity of dueling with you again."

"We can settle this right here and right now."

"Hardly. Say, for instance, you do strike me down. You gonna battle five hundred soldiers all by yourself? You're strong, Squall, but you're not _that_ strong."

"Keep talking, we'll see who's proved wrong."

Seifer guffawed uproariously and smacked his knee in delight. It was all it took to lunge at the bastard ever more, but Rinoa pulled him back.

"Enough, Seifer...Squall."

Both men looked at her.

She sighed heavily. "I've come to a decision."

"Rinoa..." Squall started.

"No, Squall," she said sadly, "I've...decided."

"Good, Rin," Seifer smiled. "It's time to go pay a visit to the doctors. They'll be able to take care of things from there."

"How is _that_ to be?" Squall demanded.

"A simple blood transfusion."

"Simple? How simple?"

"They extract everything they need to extract, and then they dump the waste into space. Simple, no?"

"You fucking pri-"

"Stop, Squall!" Rinoa shrilly yelled, coming down immediately and siezing his arm.

"I'm sorry you had to lose your virginity, Squall," Seifer coyly joked. "You should've picked a better choice to do it with."

"Give us a couple minutes, Seifer, please," Rinoa pleaded.

"Aww...how can I deny a pretty face like that. Such a shame, too, that it had to end up like this... in a way." He smiled big at their annoyed faces. "One minute. Enjoy it while it lasts." He then turned and walked a ways out of their presence.

She was shivering and she grasped his arms for warmth, but he was strange to react and he hardly gave her the comfort she needed. She knew, though. Things had to end there. She looked into his face and found him within a dead zone between time. She touched his face and he looked down into hers.

"I must tell you before I go. I was possessed twice. Once in Edea's chambers, but that was an initiation process. I was in a coma and suspended between time afterwards. Time just... stood still then. Then, out in space, she came again. Ultimecia did. She came from a time in the future and is trying desperately to achieve time compression and destroy Ellone in the process. Through this new world that she would create, only she could be able to survive within it. She wants to control all aspects of everything that occurred on this earth and manipulate things that could possibly serve her in a new world. One where she would be the Eden or the Hyne of that place. As...long as I'm free, Squall, like she did to Edea before those powers got transferred to me, Ultimecia will continue to use and abuse me in order to reach her goal."

She started to choke on her words, but no tears came. He still did not do much of anything. He only stared at her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but only a faint gargle came out. She dipped her head against his chest, gathered her strength and then slowly took off his jacket. "I...we can't let that happen...right?" She looked at his jacket and breathed in his scent that still covered it. With the tears catching up and billowing at the corners of her eyes, she slowly and clumsily put it back on him. "...I should go now."

The muscles in his throat clenched. He wanted to say something... but what? This was her decision...right? Did he just let her go? He saw Seifer's stance, arms crossing his chest, foot lightly tapping the dirt but with his face strangely somber and empathetic.

Her hands had been on his shoulders, and she slowly clawed them down his chest and then looked at Seifer. "...I'm... ready."

The Knight hesitated. Then he waved in the air, and a shuttle transport crested over the dune and opened its doors. Three armed soldiers popped out and motioned for Rinoa to get inside. Seifer stayed where he was and watched as she slowly and clumsily walked over to them. She got halfway there.

"Wait!" he yelled.

Seifer raised his eyebrows, and Rinoa looked back at Squall as the Commander stumbled his way over to her. "Don't go," he pleaded.

That brought the tears flowing, and as he held her there she couldn't stop crying over the ruffles on his jacket. "Squall... I must go."

"No, I can't let this happen."

"There's nothing you can do."

"Bullshit," he choked, his own tears starting to flow.

"Don't curse like that. It's unbefitting of you."

"Rinoa, you're the only person who keeps me sane."

"You and me both."

He wanted to kiss her hard there, but he held back. He forced himself to, which he would later look back on as the dumbest thing he had ever done.

Her eyes glanced momentarily down to her chest. "Oh...heh.."

"What is it?"

"I still have your ring," she said, stroking it and watching the last remnants of the Sun glint against it.

"You...You keep it. Please."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Squall..."

"Hey!" They both turned to see Seifer, shaking his head. "We haven't got all day."

Rinoa looked at the ground for a long while and then back at him. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, "I love you."

Then she was gone from his embrace.

The soldiers surrounded her as she neared the shuttle and immediately cuffed her wrists behind her back. One of them trained a gun on her while the others slowly placed her inside the shuttle. Seifer gave one last look at the betrodden Squall, saluted him and then boarded the vessel himself. Rinoa kept a constant eye on him all the way up until the shuttle's doors closed her body off completely from his sight.

The last look he saw on her was one of complete fear and longing. It tore his heart in two, and he collapsed onto the ground.

The shuttle took off with a great uproar along with fifty other vessels, and each of them made a beeline for the southeast. It was a long time before Squall was able to pick himself up, and he staggered into the _Ragnarok_ like a drunk coming out of a bar.

**

* * *

**

Author's Note:

Hey all, thanks for all the support in reading, enjoying and reviewing this mammoth story here. I have loved all the interest in it so far. One point of anaylsis: I intended for this chapter to raise a few eyebrows (yeah, my "evil" side coming out). I had no problems with how the game spelled out the Ragnarok coming home scene. I just expanded it a bit, since this story does fall under the "M" rating. Nothing too fancy there, though**. **

However, several followers may be puzzled at the inclusion of Seifer at the end. In order to dispel some questionings, I hinted briefly in this chapter that there were at least 500 "turncoat" Estharian forces. Recall the Tyrannicals in earlier chapters, I think 31 and 32. The city of Esthar is 30 million strong and not all of them are necessarily cooperative and appreciative of large city politics- especially when things turn to the military. Think about the Republicans and the Democrats in the US or the Labour and Tories in the UK as well as other countries. Most of the city would like to see Seifer in chains, but with Adel on his side now they might have a pretty rough time with that.

This inclusion is like the cracks a plant makes in its bedrock before the full transformation happens. And since I like teasing people, you'll just have to wait to see what happens in the end.

Farewell to the end. (By the way, I'm intending for 50 chapters if anyone was interested in that statistic.)

~~ACJ


	36. Air Raid

AIR RAID

Quistis Trepe opened her eyes and groaned loudly. She laid on her stomach, and her hair was undone and plastered to her face. She sorely pulled it back from her skin and wrinkled her nose at the sweat that clung to her skin as well as the humidity that lay thick in the air. She also realized she was on the ceiling of the escape pod, and Piet was doubled over the broken bench that they had been sitting on. Their harnesses had snapped upon reentry, but she had been fortunate enough to be wedged between two panels with adequate protection. The stubborn Piet, on the other hand, had half of his spine ripped out his upper back.

There were lots of flies billowing around the stench of death, and her curiousity propelled her to gently lift herself off the floor and to peek over the disjointed bench. She recoiled instantly upon seeing a long vertical stick of blood-stained bone poking out the back of his shirt. She covered her nose and mouth to stifle a scream and slowly shook her head. Her eyes, once she slowly opened them again, granted her her first look at her own condition. She had lots of bruises on her arms and legs, a few cuts with one open on her left knee, and she was missing a tooth and part of her chin was crusted in dried blood. That realization caused her to taste heavy copper on her tongue, and she almost threw up. That made her recoil for the open pod door- a thought she didn't think twice one- and she bolted for fresh air and landed hard onto the Estharian soil. She spent a few minutes gasping for air and trying to force that grisly image of poor Piet out of her mind. He had been most unfortunate to not only have had the weakest harness but to also caught wide open during the crash.

But what of Ellone?

She glanced back and realized her friend was not in there, and she chanced to inspect the pod once more. She quickly scoured all possible places from the open hatch and came up with nothing. She then studied the open hatch and saw that it had been forced open. A slow inspection of the earth revealed lots of blended footprints leading from some place over the nearest dune towards the half-submerged pod in the soil.

"Who...came?" she spoke aloud. Her mouth was dry as a bone, and she had to work to garner enough saliva.

She slowly stood up, fell back down to her knees under the incredible soreness, steeled herself up, and then pushed back up. Only to fall back down again.

"Come...come on girl," she told herself. "You're a SeeD, dammit."

She curled her fingers into a fist and forced herself up. She stayed upright for about six seconds, shifting her weight from one foot to the next and then fell back into the pod. She dimmed down the dizziness and then set out walking. Slowly at first, then at a small trot up to the high point of the dune. She crested it and then fell back to her knees. The Sun was almost down for the day, so the soil wasn't that hot. She also found the source of the footprints, which all meshed together in one big conglomeration next to a long line of vehicle tracks. The tracks then made their way in an eastern direction, and as her eyes trained further to the east she saw the city of Esthar on the horizon.

It seemed the Estharians had taken Ellone back to the city.

But why not her as well?

"They... must have thought I was dead," she said glumly.

A rumble echoed against the environment around her, and she immediately scoured the earth around her. Her bladed whip, thankfully, was still on her hip although through the commotion it had managed to cut into her side a bit, and she quickly wrenched it out and applied some healing magic to her condition. As she sewed herself back up, she kept a dutiful eye on all directions across these barren dunelands.

The rumble did intensify, and she intensified her curing process as safely as she could. Then, she had to stop.

A vessel shot out from behind one of the far-off dunes, followed by an escort of ten more. Armored humvees and giant convoys filled with heavily armed Estharian soldiers drove off in front of the low-cruising vessel. A distinct medical symbol on the side of large vessel, bright red in color, was visible from her stance. The parade of Estharian vehicles were not heading to Esthar, however, which alarmed her. They were heading southeast, towards some fixed point that she couldn't tell from her location.

She was glad that they didn't notice her, but she was far from relieved. Something was very strange about this scene. The Estharian convoy units were primed up for what looked like a major battle to be fought with; however, she could not understand why that would be. She did think the purveying red mist blanketing everything south and to the southeast was a strange phenomenon.

One she certainly didn't recall seeing when they had gone to the Lunar Base to be jettisoned into space.

She steadily watched the convoy head off into the horizon, and suddenly she grew very fearful. She was convinced that something wasn't right- in her usual pessimistic mood-but then, she didn't what to do next.

So she just sat there and waited for a good while.

Then, another rumbling sound pricked up her ears. However, it was much quieter than the Estharian convoy.

One lone Jeep soared across a nearby dune, and she immediately got to her feet with much greater ease this time. Shielding her eyes against the glare that came off the windshield, she saw none other than Selphie Tilmitt behind the wheel of that cruiser. With Irvine next to her and Zell and Milena in the backseat. Angelo could also be seen in the backseat between them, his tail jerking around left and right.

A small bit of relief overwhelmed her, and she put her whip back into its place and walked a bit forward to greet them. Selphie pulled the Jeep around next to the submerged pod, and all of them got out.

"Quisty!" Selphie squealed and embraced her tightly. Mila followed suit, and the guys gave her tighter hugs as well, and the furry mutt pranced around and enjoyed the warm reunion. Selphie pulled back and instantly frowned. "Why do you look so bent out of shape?"

"More so than usual?" Irvine smirked. He received a hit in the gut from Selphie.

Quistis giggled and smoothed her hair back. "It was a wild ride to say the least. Funny. The Estharians can make all this wonderful, high-tech equipment, and they can make a rusty, rickety, piece-of-crap escape pod at the same time." She kicked the side of the pod. "The only thing that saved my life and possibly Ellone's was the wide panels on one side of the rig."

"Wait, so that means-?" Irvine didn't finish and walked over to inspect the pod. "Holy shit!" he yelled as he poked his head inside.

Selphie and Mila widened their eyes, and Zell ran forward in a giddy mood. "What is it? What is it?" The smell drove him back at first when he got to the open hatch. "Dude! The hell is that smell?"

Irvine grabbed the back of his collar and shoved his head in.

"Holy sh-it!" Zell squealed, but he couldn't take his eyes off the sight of poor Piet's mangled body. He had a curious morbid fascination with the stretch of spine poking out the upper back of the scientist's body. "Damn, son. That guy got wrecked!"

"What?" Selphie and Mila asked together.

"You don't want to know," Quistis warned, shaking her head at the guys' fascination.

"Who is this guy?" Irvine asked, stealing a peek back at them.

Quistis turned to him. "His name is Piet, and he was alive when we jettisoned. In his haste, he forgot to properly hook himself up, and...well..there you go," she said pointing to where his body lay behind the metal covering.

Angelo went to inspect and the pulled back with a disgusted whimper and batted at his nose to avoid the smell.

"Well, _that's_ a bitch," Zell said, averting his gaze and coming back down to join the girls.

"Gee, Zell," Mila said, "nice to know your view on things."

"Hey, it was his own fault. He obviously didn't have SeeD training skills, or he would've known to better prepare himself."

"Quite right," Irvine affirmed, pulling his head back out too and rejoining the group. He then stopped and remembered something. "Did you say Ellone was on here?"

Selphie gasped. "Really?"

Quistis nodded.

"W-Where is she?" Zell asked.

"I... don't know."

They looked at her, puzzled, and scratched their heads.

"Well, don't look at me that. I am just as puzzled as you all. In fact," Her face grimaced and reddened with frustration. "I am pretty fucking pissed off here!"

They all jolted from the sudden outburst, but sympathized a bit- indeed, strange things had been afoot in the past 24 hours.

"What the hell is going on here?" Quistis demanded. "Squall and I left with Rinoa in tow from Esthar's Lunar Base, everything was fine and hunky-dory. We got to see the city a bit, we took a leisurely ride, we end up at the base, underwent "cold-sleep" that was really, really itchy when we woke up from it. Then that dead guy Piet in there placed Rinoa in a lab chamber so they could do some more studies on her, and then Squall and I went to take a small tour of the space ship. We saw these weird sights on the Moon that turned out to be patches of monsters mingling about on the lunar surface.

"Then, we reunited with Ellone and had a long, good conversation. Then the alarm bells sounded off and screeched that a trouble was happening near the labs where Rinoa was being held. So, Squall went to go check it out and then a lot of commotion happened and several people died."

"What?" Irvine asked.

"How?" Selphie questioned.

"It was Rinoa." Quistis said glumly.

"What?" Zell, Irvine and Selphie replied.

"Wait, I thought she was in a coma," Mila said.

"She was on her two feet," Quistis said, in a much darker tone. "Covered in a glowing aura and swaying around like she was in a drunken stupor. She zipped her way through the space station and killed a few more people with, like, a light pulse that shot from her palm."

"No way," they all said, a little nervously. Angelo didn't want to believe it, either. Their feelings weren't helped by Quistis's solemn expression.

"She went to the control station, killed off the controllers, and then opened..." She collected some saliva to say this part. "She opened the seals on Sorceress Adel's chambers out in space."

Her friend's faces grew instantly tight, and that quick reaction stopped Quistis for a moment.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

They didn't respond at first. "Keep going," Irvine said finally.

She hesitated. "Rinoa... left the control room then and headed for the exit stations and donned a space suit. Squall followed her, but he got held up by the President who was in the process of evacuating, along with everybody else. Squall came back, dejected, and me, Ellone and Piet had to force him into the escape pod. Meanwhile, Rinoa, still possessed, went over to Adel's tomb and opened the final seals." She thought of something and smacked herself for not remembering. "I forgot the most important part."

They waited.

"The Lunar Cry started once she deactivated the first seals. A big red plume of monsters jettisoned off the surface of the Moon and landed here on this earth. Somewhere, I think Piet said, Tears' Pointe."

She noticed her friends look in that direction in a knowing way, and she hated the ominous news that seemed impending on their tongues. She also was about on the verge of tears, and her voice was choked as she explained further. "Rinoa... opened Adel's tomb...and the Sorceress flicked her off like Angelo would do to a flea, and she went spiralling out of control."

The girls lurched at that news. Irvine was stunned. "Was she still possessed?" Zell asked.

"No. Ellone told us that. She could feel Rinoa's presence but not her actual physical form. On the escape pod, as the space station imploded in the red plume, Squall begged her to regain a memory in the past- I think it was that moment when we defeated Ultimecia inside Edea's form at Galbadia Garden- I think he wanted that moment. It was about a couple of minutes with that proceeding. Suddenly, Squall seemed to be able to connect with Rinoa again, and he was mumbling some strange stuff. I'm not quite sure what it was, but he seemed to be getting happy about it. Piet was making fun of him a bit over it."

"That sonofa-"

"Quiet, Zell!" Mila scolded.

Quistis laughed, recalling the memory so fondly. "Suddenly, he sprang to his feet, told Ellone 'thank you', gave me a wink of assurance and left the escape pod."

"What?" all of them exploded.

"He left."

Silence.

"Da-mn," Irvine smiled, nodding his head in approval.

Selphie smacked him in the gut again. "Now _that's_ pretty heroic."

"A good way to get himself killed," Mila said sadly.

"I don't know what happened to them," Quistis admitted, "I don't like to think that-"

"-Don't think about it," Irvine said.

"Irvy!" Selphie refuted.

"No, Selphie, Zell, Quistis, Milena. He did what he had to do, and I'm proud of him for it." He took a look up at the sky for a minute. "I think we should honor their memories as of this moment."

"Agreed," Zell said, and they all bowed their heads for a good long time. Angelo made the only sound- a slow, steady whimper and a slow beat of his tail against the ground.

The Sun had now set by this time, and the red mist in the background became a strong purple under the glowing Moon that seemed a bit tinged with an orange glow. A strong acidic breeze blew through the dunes.

"I know you all want to tell me something," Quistis said, finally. "I can see it your eyes and by your expressions."

"Ooh boy," Mila sighed.

"Tell me about it," Selphie concurred.

"Right," Zell said, feeling it was his duty to explain things first. "Okay when you and Squall left, everything was pretty normal, and we got to talking about, you know, bullshit and all that. Then Angelo started acting up." The dog barked a bit at that.

"What unnerved him?" Quistis interrupted. "And where's Matron by the way?"

"Hold on, hold on," Zell said, "I'll get there, I'll get there."

"So get there," Irvine joked.

Zell grunted and shook his head. "Matron went off a little while ago to meet up with the Headmaster. I'm not sure where she was going to find him, but she seemed to have a sixth sense about his location."

"I'll take it from here," Irvine butted in. "Quistis, yeah Angelo was acting up, and for good reason. The Lunatic Pandora had been camoflauged over the ocean and it suddenly appeared over the city and attacked the far western seaports and residential areas."

"The Lunatic Pandora!" Quistis exclaimed. All her previous Balamb studies had now come back to penetrate her mind with a new and vicious freshness. "No. The Lunatic Pandora! That thing was _here_?"

"Yes," Mila said. "It's like three hundred stories tall and filled to the brim with Galbadian, Delinger and old Estharian weaponry and... it killed a good number of people on the first rounds."

"So we went and talked with Odine," Selphie continued, "you remember, that crazy old scientist guy?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"He said it appeared to be heading for Tears' Pointe to start the Lunar Cry all over again. He said a bunch of monsters were going to fall from the Moon and reactivate the hideous Guardian monsters that lurk in the tombs within that site."

"Then," Zell continued, "we split up into two teams and left Odine's lab, and that was when the Pandora opened up its gates and spilled forth what was the Super Guard."

"The Super Guard?" Quistis asked.

"A brainwashed legion of impressed Galbadian, Delinger and Dolletian citizenry," Irvine explained, "armed with long-range flamethrowers. They torched a good chunk of downtown Esthar and killed about four hundred civilians and about sixty military officials. A small, flimsy mecha was controlling the roughly thirty thousand squadron and was manned by heavily-armored Galbadian soldiers."

"Galbadian soldiers?" Quistis asked. "So that means that-"

"Whigham was in charge."

"Not only that," Selphie said, "but during the raid and especially afterwards, tensions started mounting within the city itself."

"What do you mean?" Quistis asked.

"She's talking about the Tyrannicals," Mila explained. "There's some severe friction going on in the city. Edea said it's because the President is not around to preside over the city. She said his power had been diminishing in two of the five boroughs, and that those boroughs were disentigrating into uncontrollable militias. The Tyrannicals came from one of the boroughs, Dagobas, and started picking off civilians and soldiers as well as the Super Guard. They were basically causing as much ruckus as possible."

"But we all worked together," Zell continued, "and destroyed the mecha that was brainwashing the impressed citizens. The Super Guard quickly stopped their advance, and the Estharian military surrounded the Galbadian soldiers and imprisoned them. The hostile Estharians routed as well, and the Pandora ventured to the outer skirts of the city."

"From the explosion I made in the base of it," Irvine said slyly, "we were all able to get in, and Matron was telling us about the finer points of history behind the massive rig. However, we all were taken aback when we saw Whigham and his...er.. experiments."

"Wh-What are those?" Quistis stammered.

"They've captured people from the western continent and twisted them into horrific-looking monsters. I can't really describe it."

"I think they're massing up for a big war," Mila pondered. "And the Lunar Cry is the frosting on the cake."

"I agree," Irvine said. "Whigham deposited all of us back to the earth, and we witnessed the Pandora line in synch with Tears' Pointe. Then the Lunar Cry came down and plunged straight into the heart of the Pandora." He came forward, put an arm around her and showed her the far eastern and southeastern sides of the land. "Quistis, a massive red plume has enveloped wide stretches of the globe, and hordes of monsters are running around within it. And what's worse, we saw Adel herself fly out of the Pandora's ceiling and perch herself onto the edges. Immediately, a string of monsters came up to worship her and she commanded them to prepare for a long and gruesome battle."

Quistis's throat tightened at the scene in front of her eyes, at the swirling mists. Her first thoughts generated around Rinoa and her opening of the seals. Her actions...caused this.

"Something happened to her, though," Irvine said.

"What?"

"She gave a nasty retch and flew back into the Pandora. I am not quite sure why. She didn't appear again."

"We fled the plains," Zell continued, "as the mist rose up around us and saw some very dangerous looking creatures within it. Quisty, I'd go up against anything on my own... but, uh...heh, not these things."

Quistis groaned. This didn't sound good at all.

"We came back to the city," Mila continued, "and there we saw a large portion of the Estharian population hard at work repairng the damaged infrastructure and curing the wounded Super Guard and the wounded Galbadian soldiers. Dozens of them also manned the outer edges of the city as sentries, but the monsters have so far stayed clear of attacking the city. Edea noticed, though, that despite the high morale in rebuilding the city there was a definite sense of suspicion and mistrust floating around. A lot of people had nervous expressions, and there was all kinds of talk floating around."

"Secessionist talk was floating freely in the eastern half of the city," Selphie noted.

"Secessionist talk?" Quistis asked. "The President evacuated the space station, so he must be back in the city by now."

"Oh, I hope so," Irvine said. "They're having a big meeting in the Congress right now, and I think quite a few members are making plans for a civil war."

"Oh come off it, Irvine! This is no time for that!"

"Hey, I feel the same way. But check this out... none of the top command in the executive branch- the President, the Vice, and the State, War and Treasury Secretaries- were around to calm the city down when the Lunatic Pandora invaded."

"You're kidding?"

"'Fraid not. This incident has sparked outrage within the city, and Matron said that past incidences had already laid down strong fractures within the city."

"Like what?"

"The President had sought and gained a third term. The constitution laid down after Adel's initial defeat all those years ago called for the President to only have _two_ terms at the most. Most of the electorate believed a 'corrupt bargain' had been initiated."

"But the President has the support of the people, though," Mila pointed out.

"Yeah, but nowadays, it seems the people's voice is being suppressed by powerful business interests. Esthar is a little different today than it was seventeen years ago. At least that's what Matron said."

"Oh boy," Quistis said, biting her nail. "Then I wonder if those Estharian convoys earlier were part of the Tyrannical movement?"

"What?" they all asked her.

Quistis pointed to where the convoy had taken off. "When I awoke and found only myself and Piet over there, I stumbled out and heard a loud rumbling. Immediately, a large vessel with a distinct medical symbol on its side took to the air and several dozen heavily-armed Estharian trucks and convoy tanks stormed somewhere to the southeast of here." She pointed to the ground. "Earlier, I think the same convoys pried open this pod's hatch and took Ellone into Esthar. These tracks lead to vehicle tracks that lead to Esthar's gates."

The group followed the tracks and then turned back to Quistis. "They didn't take you?" Irvine asked.

"They probably thought I was dead."

The group slowly nodded.

"Guys," she said, "we're in unprecedented times right now. But... I am kind of curious as to why that medivac vehicle was there. Let's go take a look before we try to reunite with Ellone in Esthar. Maybe we could have a talk with the President at the same time."

They all nodded and slowly got into the Jeep. None of them spoke it, but all of them wished for Rinoa and Squall to be in their presence at that moment.

It was sorely needed.

* * *

Quistis sat between Mila and Zell with Angelo between her legs, and she searched desperately for something to hold on to while Selphie maniacally commandeered the Jeep, and with every jolt the vehicle made over a dune or a pothole in the more solid surfaces of the soil the former instructor looked about ready to have an anuerysm. The Library girl had nudged her numerous times, offering mild assurances that everything was alright, but Quistis had other remarks for that. It also didn't help that the guys were cheering Selphie on. Angelo seemed to enjoy it, too, but he seemed to be looking for something to grab onto as well. The Jeep hit a particularly rough patch of land, and Quistis bit her tongue on accident. Irvine hit his head on the support bar, but that only increased his exuberance and he cheered her on all the more.

The cheers, however, died completely once the _Ragnarok_ came into view.

Selphie immediately hit the brakes upon cresting over the large red dune, and her passengers immediately were jerked forward. Irvine again hit his head on the support bar and then the dashboard, harder this time. Zell, Quistis and Mila, who weren't wearing seatbelts, crashed into the two front seats, and Quistis ended up between Irvine and Selphie with her face in Selphie's lap.

"What the hell is that?" Zell asked, horrified.

"It's beautiful!" Selphie cooed, taking in every wonderful red, orange, yellow and green detail.

"It looks like a flying dragon," Mila said, in an awed voice.

"Damn, it's pretty huge, too!" Irvine added dumbly, his face turning into a long drawl with some spittle forming on the sides.

Quistis managed to claw herself up by grasping hard against the dashboard. She gazed long and hard at the spaceship and noticed that the hatch was open near its starboard side. "I think we should go check it out," she said, pointing to the open hatch.

"Of course!" Selphie exclaimed, immediately turning off the engine and hopping out. Irvine and Mila followed her, and Quistis struggled to get out herself. Angelo barked with joy and was the first one to reach the ramp.

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Zell demanded. "We're just going to board something we don't even know? It could be a danger trap."

"Has that ever stopped you before?" Irvine asked.

"Once, when I was training to be a SeeD."

"And...what did you do to solve it?"

Zell scratched his chin. "I think I did it anyway."

"Well, then, get your ass out of that car and let's get going!"

"Alright, alright." He glumly got out and hurried on after the others.

As they got closer to the _Ragnarok_, they noticed several scatterings of footprints and tire treads all clustered around the ship. "This must be the sight of those convoys you were talking about," Mila told Quistis.

"I believe so," she agreed.

"Well, then, why didn't they take this dragon ship?" Irvine asked.

"They left it for us, silly," Selphie said, playfully.

"Girl, come on. You can't pilot this thing."

"And I couldn't pilot that tank from the Missile Base either, right?"

"Well..."

"Or the Dolphin, remember?"

Irvine muttered something unintelligibly, and Selphie smirked in response.

Quistis reached the ascending platform and peered inside the cargo bay. The looming shadow underneath the belly of the ship made the nighttime surroundings all the more darker, and a cool breeze floated out of the hatch and chilled her to the bone. She decided to take a chance. "He-llo!" she yelled into the bay. "Anyone in there?"

Nothing replied.

"Ooh," Mila shivered, "this is kinda creepy."

"I concur," Irvine said. "You think we should go on?"

"Might as well," Quistis said, with a touch of uncertainty marking her words. She breathed in deeply and ascended slowly. The others followed her lead.

All five of them walked into the cargo bay and then slowly treaded into the main hangar with the two staircases leading up to the cockpit, the bar room, and the main recreational area. The lights were dimmed throughout the craft, but in the bar room the door was closed and a strong light beamed underneath it against the floor. Angelo sniffed around the edges of the door and looked back at them and gave a low bark.

"Someone's here," Irvine noted.

They each momentarily reached for their weapons then retreated from that. With a force of five, they felt confident a simple brawl would suffice. Quistis touched the panel on the side, and the door slid open.

The light was glaring at first, but they soon grew accustomed to it. It smelled of liquor badly, and the first sight they saw was an empty gin bottle. Then their eyes followed the trail of littered glass bottles over to the far end of the room where Squall Leonhart sat in a disheveled heap on one of the chairs that was not overturned. Aside from the empty bottles, tables had been overturned, walls had been slashed with what looked like sword marks, and papers and other things had been crumpled into heaps everywhere. Squall himself was only dressed in his wifebeater and pants. One of his shoes was missing, and his leather jacket was nowhere to be found. He held a half-empty gin bottle in his right hand, and his left held his stomach as if he was going to puke. He didn't acknowledge their presence.

All five of them slowly walked in and looked at him at first with astonishment then with concern.

He still didn't say anything or hardly make any motion. Angelo went up and sniffed his foot, prodding it gently with his nose. Still, Squall didn't make a move.

Finally, Quistis said, "Squall!"

He jolted awake and almost dropped his bottle. With his head bobbing up and down, he forced his eyes to focus on them, and it took about a minute for him to acknowledge her call with a "huh?".

"Squall!" she repeated. "You're alive!"

He looked around the room and then at himself to make sure that that was true or not.

Irvine scratched his head, and Selphie and Mila just looked at him, stupefied.

"Heh," Zell said, cautiously. "You alright there, buddy?"

Angelo barked loudly, causing Squall to make a delay-reactionary jump.

Squall closed his eyes and took a big sigh and then opened his eyes. "Y-Yeah, I'm alright. Well..." he thought about that a bit. "I guess."

"Cool, cuz man a whole lot of shit has gone on since we last met!" Zell said, excitedly.

Squall slowly widened his eyes and then managed to control his bobbing head with another deep swig of his drink. "Oh, really?" He licked his lips, taking in more of that bitter-sweet taste. "Like what?"

"Like the Lunatic Pandora coming back up from the earth, man!" the brawler exclaimed, as if Squall should have known that.

The reminder of that name stung Squall a bit, and he slowly recoiled. "You don't say..."

"Yeah, it attacked the city and unleashed all these repressed citizens from the western continent and all- and you know who was leading them?"

Squall burped. "Who?"

"That Whigham guy."

Squall grunted. He didn't feel like correcting the brawler at this time.

"We tried to stop the rig, but it eventually travelled over to this Tear's Pointe place and then all of a sudden this big red plume of monsters came down from space. Quistis told us all about it, how it manifested and all, and then you know what happened then?"

Squall burped and then hiccupped. "What?"

"The Sorceress Adel appeared, and then everything started going to shit. There's real problems happening within the government of Esthar now, too. Like, factions are starting to split it now. It's all a mess down here."

"Hrmmmm..." Squall mused.

"Squall," Selphie asked, "what's up with you?"

"Yeah," Irvine said. "You don't seem your usual self."

Quistis took a step towards him and looked all around the bar. "Where's Rinoa?" She looked back at him and was puzzled to see him look down suddenly. "I take it that with you here, you must have been successful in rescuing her."

"Yes," he answered in a droll. He recalled the thrilling meet-up back in the depths of space, a recollection he had been playing around in his head for a long time there in that chair. That, and another recent memory that was a bit darker and sadder than that one. "Yes, I was able to find her."

The others hinted at him to continue, and Angelo started panting happily, but he stalled them. "What happened to Piet and Ellone?"

"Piet..." Quistis started, slowly, "...he died upon impact."

Squall raised his eyebrows.

"He didn't strap in safely, and the escape pod was a bit rickety. He was like a pinball, Squall, and part of his spine is sticking out of his body."

"Sick..." he answered with a grin and another swig. "Where's Ellone?"

"We don't know. When I awoke, she was gone, but somebody had taken her since the hatch was pried open. They didn't take me, because they probably thought I was dead. They didn't seem to care about morgues, either. And I think Zell is correct, as well, in the differences of opinion running through Esthar right now. We think it has something to do with the President, but we're not entirely sure."

"Real bad stuff happening right now," Zell reiterated.

"Squall, please," Quistis nagged again. "Where's Rinoa? Something doesn't seem right. And, before that, I have to say- since apparently you and her reunited and came home in this enormous contraption- what's it called, do you know?"

"It's called," he hiccupped, "the _Ragnarok_."

"Ooh!" Selphie cooed, startling everyone. "I _lo-ve_ that name!"

"The fastest ship in the world," Squall said.

"Squall," Quistis said, "when you jumped out into space, you didn't think about anything else, did you?"

"That's right."

"Damn, son!" Irvine grinned.

"That's awesome!" Zell cheered.

"Wish somebody would do that for _me_," Mila said, catching Zell's eye.

"You and me both, "Quistis told her. "So, where is the princess that changed this ever-so-cautious Commander of Balamb Garden here?"

Squall's eyes averted once again back to the ground, and his friends grew restless. He sighed and looked up at them. "She's not here."

"What do you mean?" they all asked. Angelo stopped wagging his tail and looked at him pleadingly.

"She is a Sorceress, and rogue units of the Estharian military-possibly, from what you all were saying, on orders from the conflicting politics happening within the city-came and took her away to a medical station. People from the Lunatic Pandora also came, and one of them was Seifer."

They all looked at him like he was crazy, but even in that stupefied drunken manner they could tell that he was telling the cold hard truth.

"Seifer..." Zell grumbled, his hands bunching into fists.

The girls were silent, but Irvine stirred the pot. "That must be what Matron was saying earlier..."

"What?" Squall asked.

"Matron was saying that her powers had been transferred to another during our battle at Lighthouse Pointe. Rinoa...must have gotten them."

Squall sighed. "I am afraid you're right."

"Well, we need to go get her!" Selphie exclaimed, with Mila nodding in approval. "Where is she headed to?"

Squall blinked in surprise.

"Come on, Squall! Where is she headed to?"

"Was she taken by force?" Quistis asked.

"Not exactly..." Squall stated, even though he did recall the circumstances a bit. He _was_ pinned down after all.

"Well, didn't you stop her?" Quistis asked.

"No, it was her decision to go."

"What?" they all yelled.

Angelo even growled a bit at him and bit his hand.

Squall stood up and swayed a bit, but he managed to find his balance. "Now, people listen to me! She did this on her own free will-"

"-Oh, stop it now, Squall!" Quistis demanded.

"Fuck!" Squall shouted, throwing his gin bottle against the wall. "You should have seen the look of terror on her face, as she described her change. I have also seen first-hand the deadly power she is capable of rendering. When we got on this rig, there were eight experimental creatures that had made this ship their home. I did my best to fight them off, but she unleashed this... this... succubus magic on them and incinerated them in one fell swoop."

They all widened their eyes.

"It's more than anything we all have in our arsenal. And she is aware of that, too. She feared for her safety against the wrath that would be threatened against her when we landed back on this earth! The scorn she would have received from everybody, you all included. We had a little moment here on this ship, but now that's all that there is. There is nothing I can do about it. It is beyond my capabilities. Seifer knew that as much as everyone else there did, too. He's only doing the bidding of Ultimecia, anyway." He slumped back down in his chair and continued to stare at the floor.

While the others stared at him in disbelief, Quistis in a perturbed and hyperbolic state and with tears ready to stream down her cheeks walked right up to him, wrenched his face up to meet hers and then promptly slapped him hard across the cheek.

"Holy sh-" Zell started, but failed to finish.

The hit was hard and it stung her palm, but Squall either was immune because of drunkeness or he purposefully did not react and took the brunt of the pain like his SeeD stature demanded. Either way, the tears started flowing down Quistis's cheeks. "Why did you leave that escape pod, Squall?" Her voice choked. "Why did you do that? Huh! Because Ellone made a pretty little speech to you? Because it was a noble thing to do? Huh! No! You did it, because you _loved_ her, Squall!"

He didn't make a move.

"You did it, because she has become the one person who you've truly cared about. Not saying that you don't care about us... but we are like brothers and sisters. We've grown up together, even if we couldn't remember it for all those years. But you and her... you two have gone through many emotions together... and many adventures and done many, many things together."

Squall slowly looked at her.

She had run out of breath and could do nothing but stare at him.

With his face beat red from the sting of her palm, he looked bottled up with words to say, but he found nothing to answer. So, he instead turned back to the floor and failed to say anything more.

A heavy, heavy silence filled the room, and Quistis couldn't stop crying. She finally turned and stormed out of the bar, and the others after another long look at him slowly followed after her and into the hangar room.

Angelo whimpered long and hard. He mournfully looked at him, expecting Squall to suddenly, magically change his mind. When the dog realized that he wasn't going to change his mind, he seemed to shed a tear and he slowly trotted out the bar and made a depressing trip up to the cockpit.

Squall remained in his seat and felt the tingling slap on his cheek. It burned like someone had stuck a brand to it.

_You made your decision_, he thought, recalling her voice once again. As well as Seifer's gloat.

_How can I just let you go..._ He made a determined effort to get up, but he slumped down hard into his chair, and his head felt woozy. _Rinoa..._ he sighed weakly.

The room went spinning out of control, and all he could do was think and think and think.

* * *

The large convoy soared across and through the Estharian desert and approached the isolated medivac station, which was ominously called the Sorceress Memorial. The name was practically a morgue for supernatural deaths and Hyne experiments. Hordes of Tyrannicals, defective officials and heavily-armed Estharian soldiers guarded the front entrance, and a few gun turrets were mounted on the sides. The trucks veered into the holding rooms, and the large vessel quickly made a landing onto the tarmac, and the passengers departed.

Seifer dropped out first and rounded up the police to swarm the vessel. Rinoa slowly got out, and more hissing sounds greeted her from the surrounding greenies. She grew angry, but that previous power she had displayed against the Propagators didn't resurface. She looked over at Seifer. "Are all the Estharians behaving like this?"

"No, unfortunately," he said glumly. Some of his underlings swarmed her and prodded her towards the front gates.

"Where's the President in all this?" she asked him.

"The President is not in charge here." Seifer exclaimed.

"Who is?"

"_I_ am."

She looked at him, frightened, but she was forcibly propelled into the Memorial, and the Knight followed with a hideous and twisted smirk on his face. Inside, Rinoa immediately became more frightened. It was deathly cold inside, and there were many strange metallic instruments lying about. One of them looked like a large corkscrew connected to a vibrator; bloodstains highlighted the edges. There was also a long conveyor belt with several shear-like instruments suspended above it.

"What is this place?" Rinoa shuddered.

"Back in the day," Seifer explained, "the group of Estharians called the Easterners collected some of Adel's minions and conducted experiments on them. The results were so genuine that they wondered if they could infuse some of these designs into humans- specifically young girls, with the hopes that those lassies would become the next heir to Adel's reign once the Sorceress had suffered a death via longevity. Or, in the event of a botched plan, death by a mortal."

The soldiers forced her onto a dentist-like chair and strapped her in tight.

"What are you going to do to me?" she demanded.

"Adel is in dire straits, Rin," Seifer said morosely. "Being imprisoned like that for so long has cauterized her powers, rendered her almost meaningless. When she took flight as soon as she dropped down into the Pandora, the energy she expended almost consumed her entirely- much to her disbelief. It seemed that the Estharian government seventeen years ago had perfumed that chamber she was in with a toxic venom that made her fragile and weak.

"You see, Rinoa, we cannot allow that to sustain. Already her monsters and her guardians are getting restless. They wish to destroy the city of Esthar in one fell swoop, but she is ordering patience as best as she can. Although I do expect an occasional attack by one of these more powerful and pernicious beasts, the majority will hold their ground until she gives the signal."

He grinned lecherously at her and put his face close to her ear. "Now...we can assuredly speed this process up a bit."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Adel needs fresh blood, Rinoa. Ultimecia isn't around to provide it, and she really can't be around because this time of the earth wouldn't be able to support her. The plan all along was to utilize a young, beautiful woman such as yourself to exchange links. Edea was supposed to be that connection at first, but her age and strength were too quick for that bastard Squall to take advantage of."

"Don't talk about him like that!" she snapped.

"Pish posh, Rinoa, he can't help you anymore. He made a defiant stand, but he's useless now."

Her throat tightened, and her eyes became beady slits.

"Ooh, heh, that's right. Get mean and nasty there, Rinny. That's how I like you."

"Bastard!" she spat in his face, jerking herself against her restraints. Amid laughter and jeers from the soldiers present watching the scene, she demanded of Seifer, "Why are you doing this, Seifer? You're not like this! I know you're not like this!"

"What do you know? Huh? The times we spent together before this whole debacle started?"

"Of course. I remember our first meeting and your boyish attitudes. That was your true personality there... not this...sadistic and megalomanical attitude."

"Oh come on now. I've always wanted to be a big presence in this world."

"Not in _this_ way!"

Seifer groaned and shrugged that comment off.

"Don't do this...whatever it is... that you're going to do to me."

"I wouldn't have to if it had already happened."

"What should've happened?"

"Your spirit is too strong, Rinoa. That's both good and bad. Good, because you'll make Adel stronger than ever. Bad, because it's going to take a shitload of work to drill it out of you, heh heh."

"Dammit!" she yelled, pushing hard against the restraints again. "What are you talking about!"

"It should've happened already, Rinoa! But no-! You had to persevere and hold on until _he_ came and rescued you, didn't you?"

She looked at him cluelessly.

"Your possession should've been all that was needed. Like a drunk at a bar, it should've been that easy to unleash whatever anyone wanted to do to you. And... it worked pretty damn well at first. You released her seals, you went out and released her chamber.

"But then...that bastard Squall and that equally mischievous Ellone ressurected you and summoned you back. I've got scouts looking for Ellone, but reports have trailed back saying that the President's men were able to salvage her and secure her in the city. No matter. Plan B is in session anyway. We need to establish a link, Rinoa. Your blood, all of it, must be transferred to Adel's immediately. If not, that Sorceress will probably fade into oblivion."

She gasped. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Who, me? Nonsense. No, you'll be kept in like a drugged state until the process is complete. At the end, whatever Adel decides after that. She could keep you as like a monster or something. Or she'll jettison you back into outer space, and the enormous pressure out there will take care of you then."

"What the f- You despicable monster."

"Rinoa, what do you want me to do?"

She looked at him oddly, because he had a genuinely sympathetic expression. It was mingled with hesitancy and reluctancy for carrying out the task he was supposed to do.

"You're a Sorceress now. I mean it when I say that Squall was a badass for what he did. But now, since you're a witch and all, certain things... must be done."

"No..." she started, but her tears choked her up.

"Rinoa, my soldiers believe I am wasting my time in talking to you-"

"-Duh!" yelled someone from the back.

"-but what can I do to possibly change any of this?"

She believed him, but she hated his guts at the same time. "If Squall can't get here in time, then surely the President of Esthar will stop you."

Extreme laughter and jeering broke out around the room, and several soldiers decided they had had enough and went ahead of schedule to get the instruments needed for the "process".

Seifer sighed. "I told you, Rinoa. The President is not in charge here."

"Why not?" she demanded, fury reigning in her green eyes.

"Times change, Rinoa. Feelings change. The events that happened in the past produced scorn and contempt in certain segments of the population. Over time, differences of opinion led to spats in the Congressional chambers and isolated assassinations of top diplomats. Editorials lambasted top Congressional aides and members of the Presidential Palace. Whole boroughs went against the President and his Cabinet. The military, largely, voted against the administration and held in contempt the civilian control over it. Now, especially, in the absence of the top officials in all three branches of government, the restless majority have taken their cue and have gone rogue against the government. I expect things to start turning violent now that the Lunatic Pandora has resurfaced, monsters are everywhere on the continent and the Sorceress Adel has ultimately returned to their nightmares once more." He seemed to glow as he said that, and what was hesitancy before now turned into sheer malice.

She looked him up and down and grew instantly aware and frightened. "What has Ultimecia done to you?"

He made a large and boyish grin. "Wonderful, wonderful things."

"No-"

"-wonderful things-"

"-She's turned you into a _MONSTER_!" she cried.

He widened his eyes, unsheathed his gunblade and slammed it with inches of her face. The table next to her cleaved in two, and the voices of the Estharian soldiers and scientist died instantly. The glow that had surrounded him made his skin snow-white, and several instruments and glass windows burst into pieces with the contact of the Hyperion with the table and, consequently, the marble floor.

"I...am not a monster, Sorceress Rinoa. _You_ are the monster in this room."

She widened her eyes at him.

With his free hand he gripped her shoulder and heaved her arm up as far as it could go against the restraints for the needle to penetrate it. "And you will suffer for your sins!"

She screamed as the needle forced its way, and the "process" started.

* * *

Awkward and angry silence haunted the _Ragnarok_. Tears flowed freely down the girls's cheeks, and even the guys felt a choking sensation.

Selphie was perturbed. "Well, I don't care about what he says..." She didn't wait for a response, and she searched for the cockpit.

"Selphie, wait!" Irvine said, trailing her. Mila followed and motioned for the other two to follow.

Zell hesitated. "Quistis..."

She didn't respond.

"Quistis..."

She slowly looked at him.

"Let's go."

She slowly nodded and followed them all to the cockpit.

Selphie immediately thrust the door open, and for a moment she forgot about Squall's impetuous demeanor. The sight of the cockpit was like a dream come true for her, a dream she had written extensively about in her diary ever since she had read about Estharian airships back at Trabia Garden. She thought Balamb had some mini airships in her naive thinking, and she had been sorely disappointed when she could not come across any. The Moon was approaching the midnight stage, and despite its eerie look it cast a brilliant light within the cockpit and lit up every component within it. She immediately went to the pilot's seat with every intention of flying the rig at the start, until she saw the control panel. Irvine had to laugh at her perplexed face, but he had a hunch that she would be able to figure it out.

He then frowned. _Maybe not the engineering side, though,_ he thought. He noticed that the fuel capacity was pretty low, and the engine boosters seemed unworkable at the moment. He wondered if he could rig something up, while she looked over the panel a bit. However, something else caught his attention and he motioned for Zell and Mila to come over. "Look, this thing's got gun turrets on the sides here." He pointed to both sides of the cockpit, where twin M60s, laser rifles, plasma launchers, and grenade launchers were imbedded. "This thing's a virtual Swiss Army knife of weaponry."

"Damn straight," Zell gloated, while his girlfriend nodded to feign interest.

Angelo resisted the enthusiastic emotions and curled himself up next to the cockpit door and thought long and hard about Squall's reaction.

Quistis just shook her head at the whole mess. She was mad at Squall, but she could also tell that he was affected very deeply by this tragedy. She just wished that there was something they could do.

Her eyes scanned the room and came upon a billboard near the hydraulic doors. A few yellowed papers detailing mission objectives were stapled next to a big map of the eastern part of the world. It showed the whole continent of Esthar, parts of eastern Trabia, Cactuar Island and the eastern most peninsular of Centra. She stared for a long time at it, until she felt their eyes on her.

"She has to be somewhere on this map," she muttered.

"But where?" Zell asked.

"Squall said a laboratory, I think," Mila suggested.

"Yeah, but isn't there like _millions_ of laboratories in Esthar?" Irvine replied.

"Millions?" Zell asked, sarcastically.

"Hey, shut up, I meant there was a lot."

"What about Odine's lab?" Selphie asked.

"Odine, eh?" Quistis said, mulling that over.

"Really?" Mila asked.

"Yeah, why not?" Selphie said.

"Well, he did take an interest in here, but do you think they'd allow her into the city."

"Good point," Irvine said, "with the situation in the city right now, the people would probably kill her on sight."

"True," Quistis agreed, "but they did have lots of armed soldiers escorting the vessel."

The others nodded and fell silent.

Quistis looked back behind her at where Squall would have been and sighed. She walked over to them slowly. "I guess... in the end.. it makes no difference after all."

"What the hell, Quisty?" Selphie shouted.

"Yeah, what bites?" Zell yelled.

"Listen, y'all," the former instructor sighed, "I know we're all mad at him, but look at his situation. I don't really think he _had_ a choice." She let that sink in, which it did judging from their faces. "I mean...say...say we did go and find her at Odine's lab or some other lab...what then? Fight off every single soldier that came upon us? Even with the help of all the GFs put together, there's no way we could survive about, what like five million of them?"

They all played with something imaginary on the floor and looked real depressed.

"Then..." she slowly continued, "by some...miracle...we were able to retrieve her...she is..." Her throat seemed to swell with cotton suddenly. "She is a ... Sorceress now."

That hung in the air, and they all fidgeted.

A thud slammed behind them, and they jolted out of their skin. The sound came from Squall's gunblade hitting the floor, and he was looking at them with a puzzled expression. He seemed to have cleared over his drunken state, and he had found his leather jacket- which was stained with a long trickle of alcohol across the front. Angelo perked immediately and went to go nuzzle his leg, to which he immediately reached down and ruffled his ears.

"I thought you were getting this rig started up," he said with a small smile on his face.

All they could do was just stared wide-eyed and with their mouths partially open, but no words would come out.

"Well?" he asked again. "Good-ness, here we have Rinoa in danger somewhere on this continent, and you all are just standing around, loafing around and playing with each other here?"

"What?" they all whispered, still staring wide-eyed.

"I mean, come on," he said, his smile growing bigger. He took a few steps into the cockpit, and his flesh seemed to rejuvenate his normal glow with each step. "We've got enough firepower to stave a dozen armies in one fell swoop, and you're letting it all rust here."

"Squall...?" Quistis started to say.

He smacked his forehead, went over to the map and thrust his finger onto an inlet near the great big bay that lay in the center of the continent just east of the city. "Behold. That's where I believe she is."

They all blinked in surprise: one, because of his sudden exuberance and two, because there was nothing there where he pointed- no landmark.

"Wh-What are you-?" Mila started.

"Oh come on, people," he said again. "You of all people, Quistis, should have remembered this."

"Uh?" Quistis started.

Squall laughed. "When we went to the Lunar Base, we were informed by our escort that there was a laboratory used for experimentation and...somewhat tortuous methods utilized on certain people... near this big lagoon. If I remember correctly, they use the euphemistic name _Sorceress Memorial_ to designate it." He smiled bigger once Quistis instantly recognized the name and blushed at her early misfire in recognition. "It's just southeast here, and we should fly over the city to get to it."

"But-but-but, Squall, you-" Zell tried to start.

"Forget about that petty bullshit," Squall ordered with a wave of his hand. He cracked his neck and parts of his upper back. "We've wasted precious, valuable, insurmountable, feasible time circle-jerking each other here. Selphie, see if you can manage to pilot this craft. Irvine, you'll be the engineer and maintenance man and help Zell out if he needs an extra gunner. Zell, you're the gunner and you'll utlize these weapons here to the best of your ability. Mila, take charge as medic and support group for these three."

The four of them immediately lightened up enthusiastically and said "yes, sir" to him dozens and dozens of times before they got to work.

Squall turned to a stunned Quistis. "You, my dear, make sure to hit me harder next time, will you?"

She blushed beet red and played with her feet. "I-I-I-I underst-stand what you w-were-"

"I know," he said kindly. "That girl has really changed me. It would be wrong not to cement the relationship here and now. But Quistis..."

"What is it?"

"You have always been the greatest asset in intelligence and skills for me. I ask that you forgive my bad reputation I have sometimes and be my main advisor once again."

"Of course, Squall, but I have one question."

"Anything."

"Are you sure she's there at this Memorial?"

"I can't be a hundred percent sure, but I know I'll never stop looking for her. Again."

"Good," she said and immediately went over to a computer terminal and assumed her old familiar role. She wished to have Xu as a backup, but she was more than capable of picking up a lead.

"Damn right, Squall!" Irvine cheered. "Glad to have the bad ass Commander back in the saddle!"

"You and me both, cowboy," Squall said, fist-bumping the rowdy SeeD. "Is this rig operable for liftoff?"

"I know I can get this cutey-pie dragon off the ground, sir!" Selphie said. "But the fuel is a bit of a problem. We are really short. And the energy boosters might be fried. Everything else looks in tip-top shape."

"Guns are working properly, too," Zell said. "All the ball bearings are tight and clean, and the rounds of ammunition are set to go."

"Medical supplies are full," Mila said. "The ship is stocked and ready for anything it throws at it."

"That's why they call it the _Ragnarok_," Squall said with a big smile. "It is possible to kill a god with this craft."

"Dreaming big there?" Irvine asked.

"No, really that's what a Ragnarok is. It's a cataclysmic event that shakes the very foundations of the world. The Estharians made this aircraft the world's oyster and for good reason." He checked out the fuel panels. "Irvine, if you can't get this rig started, call upon Quetzacotyl. I'm sure that bird's thunder can heat this puppy up."

"You think that GF will come? We haven't used him or the others in a long while."

"They're itching for a fight. It's time to put them to constructive use. I wager... if we are gonna go up against Sorceress Adel... the big bad boss of all the Guardian Forces, Eden, might pay us a little visit."

"That'll be annihilation," Mila said, worried.

"We'll all be together then to enjoy it," Squall said slyly. Pointing to Irvine, he said, "Get this rig pumped up. We're wasting time!"

"I'm on it, Commander!" And the exuberant cowboy leapt down to the engine room to see what he could do.

* * *

The hydraulic needle sputtered to its fullest capacity, and Rinoa gave one final wrenching cry as the greedy scientist extracted the pin from her vein. It was the second procedure taken thus far, and the first had torn her arm up a bit and they had to waste an hour cleaning and mending her back up. Seifer was not amused.

"You miserable hacks," he muttered, as the scientist slowly took his time collecting the second round of blood and energy. The first scientist had had his head opened up by Seifer's blade for cutting Rinoa to bits earlier. "Hurry the fuck up here, how many more do you have to do?"

The scientist had almost dropped the vials, his hands were too shaky. "Er- three more procedures, my Kn-Knight. Then Adel will have a plentiful sup-supply."

Seifer held his brow and shook his head slowly.

Rinoa gasped weakly. "S-So...w-w-weak..."

A form of pity overtook him for a second, but Seifer couldn't muster up any words. He only just stared at her paralyzed form and saw that her skin was turning purple from all the excessive treatment.

"What the hell...?" rose a voice in the back, near the computer monitoring stage.

Seifer immediately snapped his attention to the controller.

Whatever it was on that monitor obviously disturbed the young man on the stage.

"What is it?" Seifer snapped.

"S-Sir...th-there's a we-weather dis-disturbance to the n-northeast of here."

Seifer blinked. "The fuck should I care about that." He irritably shook his head and turned his attention to back Rinoa's pitiful form. "These goddamn douchebags."

"My Kn-Knight! It looks like a G-Guardian Force presence, sir."

He had to hiccup at that. "Where is the exact location?"

"Near where the _Ragnarok_ landed, sir."

As the room's voices died to a halt, Rinoa saw Seifer's face darken and a sick pleasure engulfed her frail state. "Care to think again, Seifer, about our friends."

"Proceed with haste!" Seifer snapped at the scientists, ignoring Rinoa. He indicated the soldiers to provide the "haste", and they fitted sharpened bayonets on their rifles. The scientists immediately picked up the pace.

Despite the fact that her arm was numb and that the scientists' aides were freshening it up for a third bout, Rinoa was smiling. "You are out of your league, Seifer."

Seifer continued to ignore her, but he twitched a bit at that insinuation.

"Just a puppet," Rinoa laughed.

Seifer immediately drew his blade. The unsuspecting aide worker walking up behind him received a deep, deep cut across his chest, but Seifer kicked him out of the way and slammed down the blade down within an inch of Rinoa's face. "Who's laughing now, Rinoa?" he demanded, out of breath.

She didn't smile, but her eyes rendered the slyness. "I'll still be when this is all over."

They both stared at each other for a long time, before he finally sheathed his sword and turned away to think about something else.

* * *

Quetzacotyl gave a reply that was more than grateful once Irvine had finished summoning the bird's presence. Through a telepathic communication, the GF assured Irvine that the party had the majority of the Guardian Force's trust and that not too much harm would be done with the erasing of their particular memories- of course, the Thunder God said it would only be "particular" memories that would be erased. Diablos and Shiva came to greet him upon Quetzacotyl's summoning as well, to oversee the process of recharging and refueling the _Ragnarok_. The Thunder God had been nice enough to fully juice up all six engines of the aircraft. The presence of the three gods had lit up part of the night sky and completely shrouded the Moon's glaring orange hue.

As the god helped Irvine's predicament, the SeeD asked him if the GFs would put a stop to Adel's plans. Irvine was met with a long period of hesitation, until Diablos intervened and said that was up to Eden to decide.

"So, the High God is going to come down, eh?" Irvine hinted.

None of the three supernaturals said anything, and they seemed indifferent about it. Which was probably to be expected. All they wanted was to be recognized by select individuals-why should they care about Hyne's influence?

Quetzacotyl finished the process, and the three GFs dissipated in the breeze. Squall immediately came down the ramp and signalled his congratulations to Irvine. "Way to go, partner!" he yelled down to him.

"We aint holding nothing back now."

Suddenly, Selphie prematurely started the engines, and a great noise and sound enveloped both of the men.

"Hurry," Squall shouted, "get on!"

Irvine struggled his way onto the ramp and into the hangar bay, and Squall used all his effort to shut the hatch tight.

Selphie's squeal could be heard all the way down here, and then the airship took to flight.

"Come quick, come quick!" Mila called out down to them. "We're taking flight, and it's so cool!"

"Can't miss this," Irvine laughed, "come on, Squall, don't be a dilly-dally here."

"Psh... look who's talking," Squall muttered and raced him up the stairs and into the cockpit.

Now at roughly 12:30 in the morning, the _Ragnarok_ took to flight after seventeen years of retirement, and it still ran as good as new.

"All monitors checked and in order, sir!" Quistis alerted Squall.

"Gun ports and sightings still in order," Zell acknowledged.

"All support mechanisms functioning," Mila reported.

"Infrastructure intact," Irvine informed with alliterative prose.

"Booyaka!" Selphie squealed, gripping her controls like a pro pilot. "We're saving Rinny!"

"Yes, we are," Squall said. "Everybody strap in and be prepared for anything."

"Yes, sir!" they acknowledged, and Selphie steered the airship off the ground and charted on a south-southeast coast to the Sorceress Memorial.

* * *

Halfway through the third procedure, the klaxon bells rang out, and the soldiers inside panicked causing alarm to the sentries outside the lab. The scientists pulled out the harmful needle in Rinoa's skin and almost caused a second incident.

"What is going on!" Seifer demanded.

"Image com-computing to large screen," said the controller weakly.

A few seconds later, the main telescreen unfolded an image picked up by an unmanned drone. The _Ragnarok_ was in plain view and headed straight for the facility.

An extreme amount of hissing, curses and cackling wails filled the laboratory, and some of the soldiers even started waxing religious on the marble floor.

Seifer gazed long and hard at the sleek dragon sculpture sailing through the skies, and he tried to ignore Rinoa's smirks all the same. Finally, he snapped a finger to the closest aide. "Put Rinoa in that chamber!"

Rinoa's smirk instantly evaporated when she saw the chamber he gesticulated to. It was the gas chamber that would inebriate her and rocket her into space. The aides bandaged her arms up and then released her straps. "Seifer, please," she begged him, "just allow Squall and them this one opportunity-"

"-Not a chance," he spat.

"And _then_ you two can go at it later!"

"Fuck that shit, Rin." He snapped his fingers at the whole assembly of soldiers. "Arm this laboratory, and cook up the mecha!"

The soldiers affirmed his order, and half went to secure the outside and the other half primed the rocket cannons and machine gun turrets. In a span of five minutes, the Sorceress Memorial had become a battery redoubt and fully armed to the teeth. Seifer licked his lips as his underlings prepared to sacrifice themselves and Rinoa was fully locked into the chamber. Her screams and pleas went muffled and he was glad the bitch could not chide him out any longer.

Onboard the airship, Selphie made a whimpering noise.

Irvine asked, "Is is too hot to handle, Seph?"

She hit him in the stomach. "No, you chauvinist. The Memorial is in sight, I think."

Angelo perked to attention, and so did Zell and Milena. Quistis sighed. "Yes. And it's heavily-armed. I'm picking up readings of all kinds of weaponry on that facility."

"All the more to destroy then," Squall said, defiantly, knocking in a full round into his gunblade.

"Ye-ah!" Zell shouted with joy. "_That's_ my kind of talk right there."

"We're here to get Rinoa, Squall," Quistis nagged, "not blow the place up."

Angelo barked in disapproval.

"Hey, the mutt says you're punking out over here, Quistis."

Quistis smiled and shook her head.

"Zell, Irvine handle the guns. Mila, support the two of them. Selphie, continue to pilot this craft like a pro. Quistis, you're coming with me on ground assault."

"Al-Alright," she responded.

"You too, Angie," he said to the dog, who approved with a severe wag of his tail.

"Prime the guns," he ordered.

Zell hit the right flank and Irvine took the left. The Gatling guns spread out three a piece to each flank, the laser rifles three a piece, the rocket launchers and the grenade launchers two a piece. Selphie dipped low through the clouds and flew out of the main city. The Memorial stood roughly a quarter mile away.

"Punch it!" yelled Seifer to his Widowmaker units.

A barrage of rocket fire bellowed out of the Sorceress Memorial. Eight twisting cones leaked across the night sky.

"Support!" Squall yelled.

"On it!" Mila replied, hitting the airship's sophisticated shield. A thick blue plasma enveloped the _Ragnarok_. Six of the cones slammed into the field, rocking the ship slightly off course but disentigrating on impact. The other two cones missed their marks and blew up some rock formations on the soil.

"Locked on!" Irvine reported, training his Gatling guns on the now visible tarmac and the three attack units positioned on its surface. On the Memorial's three-story facade, the Widowmaker unit reloaded and the rifle units started firing at will.

"Gunners attack!" Squall demanded.

Irvine let loose a flurry of Gatling fire, and Zell let loose his entire round of grenades. The Gatling fire strafed large numbers of bodies off the western division, while the grenades decimated the central and eastern divisions with about three-quarters casaulties. The Estharians promptly fired back as quickly as they could, but Milena kept the shield running at full capacity and Selphie expertly brought the craft around the Memorial in a swooping pass.

Irvine kept up one round and then a second defeating all the rifle units on the second floor of the Memorial, while Zell took a turn with his Gatling gun at the Widowmakers. Squall signalled to Quistis and Angelo to meet him at the hangar, and he departed with a solemn voice of approval to his comrades.

Within the Memorial, the soldiers dropped like flies to the ground and blood, gunfire and burning metal rained down all along the expensive equipment and test subjects. Most of the scientists perished and only a quarter of Seifer's fighting force within the compound were alive. He just stood where he was, constantly shook his head and began to turn a bright green color as Ultimecia's poison started warping his mind again.

The shield on the _Ragnarok_ began to falter, but the tarmac was very clear and Selphie lowered the aircraft swiftly down. A final fourth assault inspired the Estharians to charge with their machine guns. The hangar door opened, and Quistis wrapped both herself, Squall and the fiesty mutt in both a Protect and a Shell magic envelope. Squall didn't wait for the hangar to touch the tarmac; he somersaulted out of the hatch and rolled three times off the ground. The assaulting soldiers barely had enough time to react before the Balamb Commander started ripping bodies apart with effortless ease. As Zell and Irvine took out the rest of the interior greenies, Squall and Quistis systematically picked off the ground forces.

The Estharians were completely caught by surprise and suffered mightily the nasty death of a vicious gunblade assault and the horrors of a bladed whip. Angelo even rocketed his scruffy body into the chests of some of the soldiers, knocked them and then chewed their throats out. Only periodic chain bursts from the machine guns smacked into the SeeD's chests, but both shield spells held their vitality in check.

Squall, however, was not to be put down. He forced a part of that all-powerful Ultima magic from Nagansett onto the tip of his Punishment blade and he slammed it hard into eight of the Estharians and rocketed their bodies into the closed gates of the laboratory. The impact blew the doors down and finally startled Seifer in his repose. Selphie, Irvine and Zell joined them and they all piled into the smoking husk of the Memorial and met a very green-glowing Sorceress's Knight.

Their attention was more focused on Rinoa, though, because she was in the process of undergoing inebriation.

Squall brought his gunblade to the ready, prepared to a put a shell through Seifer's face. "I won't back down this time," he said sternly.

"That's nice, Squall. That's very nice."

"You son of a bitch!" Zell shouted in fury. "How can you _do_ all of this?"

"Shut your fucking trap, chicken-wuss!"

"No, Seifer!" Squall ordered. "You shut yours." He fired off a shot, but Seifer jerked his hand up and the shell exploded in mid-firing. The shell casings splattered across the ruined marble floor in heaps.

It was at this time that they heard the mecha revving up, and they saw it up on the third floor. It reminded Squall instantly of the X-ATM092 he had fought during the Dollet field exam.

"Squall," Seifer said ominously. "It's been nice knowing you. Now.. if you please..." he said, as he gathered the two and a half vials of Rinoa's energy in his grasp, "...I really must leave. But don't worry... I'm sure we'll meet again quite soon." He had anger and malice mixed together, and he took off running to the back- an escape exit for him.

"Get your fucking ass back here!" Zell demanded. However, he was cut short.

The mecha collapsed onto the ground floor, and the force levitated all five of them and propelled them back out onto the tarmac. The mecha then smashed through the entire front of the Memorial and started attacking them with brute force. Outlandishly big, it stood roughly five meters tall. It had three broad legs, silver in color with a red stripe sliding down the middle. Its torso and stomach were silver as well and outfitted in red protruding daggers. Its arms were red scythes that tore apart the tarmac in front of them with savage speed. It also had a silver head with some apricot features that resembled Seifer's complexion.

"Oh shit!" Zell shouted amid the din and chopping of the scythes. "That bastard made an image of himself!"

"Just bring it down!" Squall demanded. One scythe hit the tarmac in front of him, and he grabbed a hold of the arm and scaled up the beast as the Seifer mecha reared back up to a standing position. Irvine made the same move with a blast from the Exeter into the back of the knees, stumbling the mecha and allowing him to crawl up the back end. Quistis rolled out of the way of the second scythe arm and coated her bladed whip with some thunder magic, while Selphie leapt back and pummeled relentlessly her entire stock of Thundara-about twenty in all- into the mecha's stomach. Most of the imbedded daggers collapsed under the pressure of the lightning and fell harmlessly to the ground. Quistis finished her coating, and together with Zell smashed their weapons into each of the three legs. Careless of the pain of knuckles against metal, Zell managed to completely snap off a leg from the knee down, and Quistis fried the other two and then yanked Zell away as the mecha collapsed onto its fried legs.

The collapse drove Irvine off but not before he managed to plug another hole in the mecha's back. Squall held onto the chest, his feet planted along the daggers for a shaky hold. The mecha made a whiny sound that irritated his ears, and a gunport opened up underneath the jawline. Squall ducked out of the way, as the gunport started riddling bullets. The second scythe arm jerked upward and smacked Squall off its chest, but he held on and chopped the arm off with one clean swipe of his sword, He landed hard on his feet and waited for the numbness to die down in his legs before moving again.

Angered now, the mecha tried anything to swipe or slash at them with its stunted limbs, but the party all stepped back and tried to look for more lightning magic to thoroughly fry the beast up. However, a new sound piqued their attention, and they noticed the rocket launcher on the left flank was priming towards the mecha's chest. Behind the cockpit's glass, they saw a very focused Mila behind the gun turret. The mecha roared with an astonished reaction and tried to flee, but the Library girl fired it off and melted the entire top half of the beast. The head was left partially clean and it fell with a loud clang on the ruined mass of metal that was its legs.

Squall and Zell signalled their approval to her in the cockpit, and then Squall sheathed his sword and ran into the dilapidated Memorial. He saw Rinoa in the chamber, barely awake and fading fast.

"Rinoa!" he yelled as he came closer to her prison. "Can you hear me?"

She could and she weakly pressed her palms against the glass and said something that he couldn't hear. The glass was too thick.

"Dammit!" he snapped. "What do I do now?"

Their eyes locked once more, his full of irritation and longing and hers full of panic. He looked down at the panels and noticed that once the inebriation process was complete her capsule would jettison into space.

Irate, he unsheathed his sword and sliced through the entire panel and the tubes connecting to the chamber.

Mist enveloped the room, and he distinctly heard the chamber seal open. He let the Punishment to the side, and then he saw her beautiful creamy face. No matter how weak she might have been, she summoned valiant strength to run out the chamber and into his arms. They embraced tightly, and with his left hand he gently held her neck and dipped it into her flowing hair. Her arms were around his neck, and she buried her face against his chest.

For a long time, they stood like that and he could feel her weight fall more heavily on his own as Seifer's processes had taken a toll.

Still, she managed to say, "Squall...don't...don't do this. I'm a Sorceress."

He brought his free hand up under her chin and made her look at him. "I don't care."

She held his hand softly and buried her face in his chest again.

Zell had been shouting, but they were lost in their love. The brawler had to run over to them to get their attention. "We've got more coming, Squall! I think the ones here sent out a distress call! We used up most of the _Ragnarok's_ weaponry, too!"

"Right," Squall said reluctantly. He steadied Rinoa and supported her out of the dilapidated Sorceress Memorial. No sooner had he gotten her out that he stopped dead in his tracks. Selphie, Irvine, Zell and Quistis with Angelo whimpering next to them with his tail between his legs stared ominously at the roughly one hundred thousand Estharians that had flown in on six large armored personnel carriers. The APCs had row upon row of Gatling guns mounted on their roofs and trained on the front entrance of the Memorial. An airship decked out to the brim like the _Ragnarok_ hovered around the convoy of troops, its sights primed on the six humans.

"They've got us cornered," Zell said defeatedly.

"Are these legitimate?" Irvine asked.

"It doesn't matter. None of them are getting Rinoa without _my_ say," Squall said defiantly.

"I can dig that," Irvine replied, and the others nodded.

A megaphone was produced on one of the APCs, and a loud voice rang out, "Surrender the Sorceress, Balamb SeeDs, and your life will be spared."

"Reply, Zell," Squall ordered, "you always know best."

Zell snickered and then gave the whole greenie squad the finger, coupled with a grab of his crotch.

The Estharians hissed and advanced slowly onto the group, while the heavily-armed airship moved in closer for its sniper to pick off everyone but Rinoa.

The megaphone sent an alarm signal, and all eyes shifted to a new vessel that suddenly appeared over the Sorceress Memorial and landed on the tarmac further to the east. A great loud gasp erupted out of the assembly, the seven airborne ships retreated to a set distance away, and the ground forces immediately snapped to attention.

Cries of, "The Vice President is here!" rang out all across the tarmac.

The SeeDs looked at each with great confusion and then trained their eyes on the new vessel. It was a guady aircraft with green and yellow markings on the side of white frame. The initials "V.P." lay in golden colors on the sides and roof, and the cockpit was a shiny brilliance of glass. The hatch opened and a ramp hit the tarmac. Several Estharian officers and high-ranking aides swooped down and formed two straight lines. Then, a tall, bulky man in bright green and yellow robes walked out in a defiant pose. With surprising grace and dignity, he descended the ramp and walked with head held high towards the confused and disturbed SeeDs.

Angelo whimpered some more and fell back against Rinoa's legs. His friends looked to him, and Squall felt obligated to step forward to speak to the Vice President of Esthar.

However, he couldn't find a word to say- there was a _lot_ to say, too. Strangely the Vice President didn't seem interested in speaking, either. He merely stopped within several feet of Squall, and the scene looked very strange and uncomfortable for all present there. Against the slow humming of the ships and the thousands of soldiers standing erect on the tarmac, Squall Leonhart almost shit his pants.

Then...a strange calmness swarmed him. The Vice President looked very familiar. His face was covered partly by the enormous, gaudy green hat he wore, but the jawline looked strangely familiar- rugged and intimidating. The body of course was barrel-chested but strikingly familiar in some weird way that at this moment he could not figure out.

Sadly, there wasn't enough time to worry about those stupid details. The Vice President was doing something.

The large man pointed to Rinoa and then pointed to the _Ragnarok_.

Squall looked at both and then at the second-in-command. "It's...okay...for all of us to leave?"

The Vice President nodded without speaking.

Squall took a slow panoramic view around him and then back to his friends, who strongly urged him with pleading nods to get over to the airship. "Alright," he said nervously to the Vice, "we'll go, we'll go."

The Vice President nodded again and watched them all leave carefully between the erect Estharians and onto the _Ragnarok_. As Mila and Selphie started the ship, and the great beautiful dragon rose off the ground, he finally gave a hearty laugh and ordered all present to be dismissed and to scope out the traitorous Estharian military for corporal punishment. He then walked back to his vessel for a no-doubt humorous talk with the President.

* * *

The time was 3:46. In the morning.

At this hour, the Capitol building in the northwest section of the city of Esthar just below the Feingold borough should have been devoid of business. The Congressmen in both the House of Representatives and the Senate should've been out partying on the strip, helping out with the repairs of the damages created by the Pandora, or sleeping in the Presidential Palace.

Unfortunately, all six hundred of the men and women in both Houses were present and accounted for in the large Seagill building designated for big committee meetings or annual State of the Country messages by the President. They had been debating and arguing and threatening for nearly nineteen hours- shortly after the Lunatic Pandora had laid siege to a good chunk of downtown Esthar. It was now clear that something of a decision was about to be reached, for it had come out earlier that several (about sixty) Congressmen and Senators had active ties to the Tyrannical demonstrators and various factions of the police and military units responsible for causing panic in the city.

It was a hard to hold a close conversation, for now anger had spilled out through half of the attendees and drowned out everything that was taking place. The Speaker of the House, the top authority of the chamber at that moment, raised his gavel and banged it several dozen times before the noise dimmed to a low volume.

"This House will come to order!" he declared.

Slowly, the room quieted, and the Speaker continued, after first drinking water to clear his parched throat. "We need to clear up several parts of the country's problems before we can proceed for a vote allowing the President to extradite the Tyrannical bases and launch an attack on the Lunatic Pandora. Will the Majority Leader of the Senate speak?"

"Certainly, Mr. Speaker," the Majority Leader said, rising to his podium. "My fellow Congressmen, I implore you all to set aside the differences we have between each other about who knew what and who didn't know what about the machinations behind the Pandora incident two days ago." A loud din arose at that mentioning, and the Speaker had to slam his gavel again. "I implore you all!" the Majority Leader continued, "we need to attack the Pandora at once. Sources point out that the Sorceress Adel is in a fortunate state to be rendered almost unconscious, and that the Sorceress Rinoa is right now in the process of being extradited back into space. We need all available efforts, since the President has refused to even consider that measure, to launch a full-scale assault on the Lunatic Pandora immediately! I urge my councils to offer their agreements to this measure, the Jones Proposal, in honor of the distinguished Senator from Feingold." He sat down with a huff.

"Mr. Arlen Fisher of Romell," the Speaker declared.

"Thank you, Mr. Speaker, this is exactly what the conservative leadership of this body demands: a full-scale assault against an objective that we have no idea what could possibly be lurking inside. The President had it commissioned to be buried in the Centran wastelands all those years ago with no strategy involved, no close arrangements with the Congress, and with all the implications of a sneaky and contrived attack on the safety of this republic!" An affirmative cry, mixed with louder boos rang up. "We in the Liberal Democratic bloc believe the President and this subsequent Jones Proposal are leading this republic into a dead end."

"Minority Leader!" the Speaker declared.

"Thank you, Mr. Speaker. My colleague from Romell is correct, although I will point out that the Jones Proposal has seemingly been allowed to circumvent in entirety the President's judgment. We all know he has been away from town for the past two weeks, and that has caused a nasty stir to be rumbling through this assembly." He was greeted with affirmatives, especially from the conservative majority. "Indeed the President has been all but excluded from these talks of fiscal conservatism, internal improvements, and the military budget- which has increasingly gone out of control in the last few months. How many days have we talked about that? Huh! How many days?"

The Majority Leader stood up. "Now is not the time and place for that, Senator! We are talking about the Jones Proposal, and it must be implemented tonight!"

"Order in the House, please, order in the House!" the Speaker declared. "Ms. Vilma Washington of Turnhill, Section Five."

"Thank you, Mr. Speaker. I actually have dreadful news to report, if the Speaker permits."

"Dreadful as in not good for matters at hand?"

"I am afraid so, Mr. Speaker."

"Proceed as ordered."

"Thank you, Mr. Speaker. A wire came from the Red Zone. The Balamb Garden SeeDs had usurped control of the _Ragnarok_ Type-1 A2 spacecraft over in the Azure Hills region and infiltrated the Memorial building." A great cacophany of noise erupted in the Seagill Room, and several attendees looked ready to brawl at this news. The Speaker slammed his gavel repeatedly until the noise silenced. "Several things have reportedly gone wrong with this whole incident. For one, Mr. Speaker, the Red Zone has been secretly under authoritarian control by Seifer Almasy and he has utilized members of the military and police force under the units assigned to the entire boroughs of Dagobas and San Fierro. We are talking millions of people here, Mr. Speaker, who are sympathetic to the vast aura of extremism that pervades sections of the military there- and as you know, both of those areas have been severely antagonistic to the President and his administration.

"Second, Mr. Speaker, Adel's Knight forced each of the scientists working in that building to abandon their work and produce machine guns and attack mechas to launch a full-scale attack on the city of Esthar- as a prepartory conflagration impending for the New Year's Day by all of Adel's forces. He also assigned medical techinicians to transfer the Sorceress Rinoa's bloodstream and succubus powers intraveneously to be used to rejuvinate Sorceress Adel."

The hisses and wild screams filled the air, and even the Speaker had to raise his voice at that. "Ms. Washington," he said, "it's not nice to conjure up these stories like that."

"Mr. Speaker, these reports came across the Hot Wire."

The room fell silent. The Hot Wire was the Capitol's message machine, meaning someone in the representation either knew about it or passed the information on.

"Third, Mr. Speaker, if I may continue.."

"Do, please."

"Squall Leonhart managed to defeat the entire military presence Seifer Almasy amassed for himself. Indeed, the military presence was a small one by our standards, but it seems that the Balamb SeeDs are an impressive fighting force and not to be underestimated. Seifer, in his crazy schemes of megalomania, decided to thoroughly destroy the Memorial in whole and fled the scene. The Sorceress Rinoa was not extradited to her grave in space, but saved by Squall and his party and taken out of captivity."

Angry mutterings rang out at that, and curses were thrown at Squall's party.

"Fourth, Mr. Speaker, a large-scale force of the Estharian military arrived on the scene of the vanquished Red Zone and tried to take back Rinoa into its possession. Unfortunately, another interruption occurred."

"What happened, Ms. Washington?" the Speaker asked.

"Mr. Speaker, the Vice President intervened and let the SeeDs take Rinoa away, sir."

Silence greeted the report, but a simmering tension illuminated the entire bloc of conservatives and portions of the Centrist party.

"There is a fifth detail that wraps all this up, Mr. Speaker, and this will be the hardest to report."

"Proceed," the Speaker said, agitatedly.

She gave a deep breath. "The orders to allow Seifer Almasy unilateral control over the Red Zone and all business conducted upon Sorceress Rinoa originated from the Dagobas and San Fierro boroughs under leadership of both Houses of Congress on the conservative side. The orders to alert the Estharian military to recapture Sorceress Rinoa also originated from those two boroughs, as a direct and complicit order to cause a disruption and a possible coup de tat on the President."

The look of shock across each of the conservative's faces, especially that of the Majority Leader, stifled Ms. Washington and she prematurely sat down before the Speaker of the House could address her again.

"Lies!" yelled one conservative in the body.

"This is a Democratic ploy!" yelled another.

A string of angry taunts slurred back and forth, and death threats were yelled by some members up in the highest seats of the building. The Speaker of the House drilled for order, but he went unimpeded.

The Majority Leader then stood up, and the room gradually fell to silence, although both the Democrats and the Centrists seemed billowed with hatred. "Ms. Washington is a little daft sometimes, I am afraid-" Shrieks killed his statement, but he pressed on. "My colleagues in the conservative bloc, the more center-leaning ones calling these all lies and whatnot. Look... we don't want a Presidential coup. We want effective leadership. If the President cannot do that, then he must resign or face impeachment. He is an ineffective numbskull, and this republic must be salvaged, the Jones Proposal adopted, and the Lunatic Pandora stopped." He had to shout his last sentence, because his counterparts had started yelling badly.

When the Speaker quieted the room, he asked the Majority Leader, "So you effectively endorse all of Ms. Washington's statement?"

"I whole-heartedly support the statement, Mr. Speaker," he answered defiantly, "and it is a damn shame that the Cabinet has gotten involved. They assuredly know of some of these plans."

The Minority Leader stood up, "This is a breach of Congressional duties and an attack on the very democratic nature of this country!"

"The President is ruling on a de facto standing!" the Majority Leader declared, with the support of a resounding "ayes!" from his colleagues. "In every instance since his third inauguration, he has repeatedly scraped by the most pressing issues of national security of this country and has ultimately cow-towed to opening this city back up to worldwide view once again. Ultimately, he has allowed a foreign military presence to run wild within our community, endangering the lives of Estharians everywhere!"

"What nonsense!" shouted several Liberal Democrats and Centrists.

Someone took off their shoe and threw it across the aisle at the Centrists, and suddenly hundreds of people started beating each other up in the room. The Speaker called for order, but he was hit in the nose with a shoe and fell out of his chair, the gavel falling onto his bald head. Through the din, the Conservative Majority Leader ordered the proceedings to be halted, and in effect the Jones Proposal went through without an official signing. The Conservatives, outnumbering their opponents two to one, severely drove them to submission and exited the Seagill room and the entire Capitol building where a convoy of heavily-armed Estharian troops enthusiastically greeted them and proceeded to arrest those Congressional opponents who were not sympathetic to the cause.

Immediately, protests arose between the citizens and the military, within the military, and between different ideologies of the citizens. Brawls flourished in the streets, several people were crushed under by tanks, buildings once again burned, and shouts rang out in the wee hours of the morning of December 2.

High up in his penthouse suite of the Presidential Palace, the President and his Secretary of State looked down in worry and awe as their entire city folded.

Squall Leonhart and Cid Kramer had to be summoned immediately.


	37. Foreign Policy

**Author's Note:** Good evening everyone. Hope everyone in the States had a fine Fourth of July (have a feeling I've said that once before in an earlier chapter: life's realities are budging into writing this story). I apologize for the lack of action in this update. Loads of talking in this one.

With that in play, enjoy.

ACJ

_A messed-up city_

_An impending dangerous_

_Attack soon awaits_

The dragon ship with its sleek contours glided stealthily across the Estharian plateaus unimpeded by any hostile entity.

Selphie, Mila and Irvine each sat in the piloting seats while Zell occupied one of the gun turret slots. The left flank was completely devoid of shot after their excursion at the memorial, and the right flank that he now occupied only contained ammo for one strafe should anything come their way. They were taking a risky gamble in a land populated with over five million members of militant force. Quistis sat back at her console desk and looked turgid with loads of paperwork at her calling. Her gaze shifted, though, behind her to Squall standing against the wall with the map staring nonchalantly into space and to Rinoa who sat rigidly in one of the support desk chairs with her faithful dog at her heels. She seemed particularly worried about something.

"What's wrong, Rinoa?" Quistis asked. The others glanced back at the sudden question- silence had reigned in the cockpit for the past half hour. Squall just continued to stare out in the yonder, as the _Ragnarok_ finally left the rich lands of Esthar and started soaring over the Central Sea. The red mists from the Lunar Cry barely stretched over the waters, but it could be seen on the southern horizon bordering around the eastern coast of Centra.

Rinoa jumped a bit at Quistis's question. "Wh-What's that?"

The former instructor giggled a little. "Take it easy, Rinoa. You look too wound up."

"Enjoy the trip in this ship!" Irvine bellowed.

Rinoa blushed and scratched the back of her head. "I'm just a little...embarrassed..I guess."

"Embarrassed?" Zell asked, leaning off his sights. "Why?"

She seemed to grow elated then, and she took a quick look back at Squall, but she wasn't surprised to see him in his usual angst. "Well, I-I was so intent on staying in Esthar...but...when you guys showed up and rescued me, I-I-it made me just so happy."

Angelo started panting happily, and she ruffled his ears for the first time again after more than a month.

"No need to be embarrassed!" Irvine laughed.

"Yeah," Selphie seconded. "Happy is good."

"You were on everybody's mind ever since the orphanage battle," Mila added, to which everyone nodded.

Rinoa lowered her gaze to the floor. "Thanks...everybody."

"No matter the current circumstances now," Quistis said sincerely, "you are still our friend, our comrade."

Rinoa looked over at her and was quite surprised. She found equal looks of sincerity in the others near the front of the cockpit, and a bigger sense of relief filled her. "I guess..." she stated sadly, "that you all will be the only ones."

Quistis didn't have a reply for that, but Irvine had one. "Don't worry about anyone else."

Rinoa looked at him oddly.

"Squall is more than a match for _any_ of them."

A vague smile appeared on the Commander's face, but he remained as stoic as ever, eliciting some giggles throughout the cockpit.

"Squall, bro," Zell asked, "what's on yer mind? Why you so quiet over there?"

Squall shrugged and continued thinking.

"Thinking again," Rinoa whispered. "It's killing you inside."

He responded by loosening up a bit in stance, but he still didn't say anything.

"Well, heh," Quistis said, leaning back in her chair, "as an expert Squall observer... Mr. Cool over here is thinking: _what do we now? do we have enough chances left to make a difference in this world? are our options clear? _blah, blah, blah and so forth."

Mila laughed hard at that, followed by Zell and Irvine. Selphie almost overcorrected the turning of the ship, as she had stitches in her side from laughing so hard. Rinoa even laughed and looked at him in a coy manner.

Squall brought his hand to his forehead and shook his head slowly. He let out a loud sigh and looked at her irritably.

"Squall," Quistis implored, "if you think and worry too much, everything'll turn out bad in the end."

He looked at her like that was the dumbest thing she had ever said.

"Pessimism has its place," she continued. "But...how about the seven of us, eight including Angie here, just picture a brighter future, huh?"

"A brighter future?" he muttered.

"Hey! He talks," Irvine snickered.

Squall shot him a dirty look and then shrugged at Quistis. "No one can predict the outlook of the future, Quistis."

"Well, Squall," Zell said, "that may be true, but tell us what to do from here now. We just reached a mile off of Esthar, and we have no particular direction to go to."

"We need to do something about that Pandora," Mila said.

"And we need to get into contact with Ellone somehow," Irvine added.

Squall rubbed his temples. "Yes, yes, you all are right."

"And that goddamn Seifer!" Zell added with a hideous slur. "I can't believe he was there at that Memorial! We need to kick his ass!"

"Seifer is Ultimecia's puppet," Squall muttered, "and he's using Adel as a proxy to harbor bigger things for _his_ cause. We can't deal with him yet until we find a way to enter the Pandora."

"And then Ultimecia, right?" Zell asked hastily. "We're SeeDs, Squall. It's our job to kill Sorceresses, right?"

Before Squall could pummel him, Mila beat him to the punch with a very strong Sleep spell that struck him instantly. The belligerent brawler slumped in his chair and fell fast asleep.

"We're sorry, Rinoa," Mila said sheepishly.

Rinoa only laughed. "No, it's-it's alright. I understood what he was trying to say. You don't need to put him to sleep."

"Don't worry," Irvine said, laughing a bit, "I'll keep an eye on this goober." He took the butt of his gun and smacked the brawler in the head and chest, until Zell woke up.

Before he could apologize, Rinoa signalled him to be quiet with a sympathetic expression and Zell obediently did so.

Squall rubbed his forehead and shook his head again. "You all are too much sometimes."

"Look who's talking!" Irvine shouted.

"Psh..whatever," Squall replied, causing everyone to laugh again.

Quistis rapped him on the chest. "Where are we going?"

"Um...?" Rinoa asked, cutting off Squall's next statement.

They all looked at her.

"You know... I think I want to be away from large groups of people for a little while. Can we go to that orphanage that you all grew up in? I know we were there last month, but all we did was fight a nasty little war there. I'd really like to see it up close and personal if you didn't mind."

"Even when it's all just a pile of rubble now, and all the memories are in our heads?" Selphie asked.

"Even so," Rinoa responded.

"Settled," Squall said for the whole group. "Fly us there, Selphie."

"You sure the orphanage?" Quistis asked.

"Yes," Rinoa replied. "I'm actually itching to see it."

"Sure thing, Rinny," Selphie cheered. "Estimated arrival time in six hours. We should be there by nine o clock sharp."

* * *

The _Ragnarok_ gently docked close to the shore of the old Lighthouse Orphanage. The signs of the prior warfare were still visible in the beleagured forests and the discolored shoreline, but nature was slowly coming back in scattered areas. The signs of war had stained parts of the remaining slabs of concrete on the orphanage, but it still looked as nostalgic as ever.

Angelo was the first one off, and he ran immediately for the garden area. Over the years, the field just south of the orphanage had grown to an immense size and it now covered a mile-long area along the southern shoreline with every type of flower known to mankind. It was a little secret that only a handful of Centran villagers knew about- a strange phenomenon amid the high tech city of Esthar and the immense spy network of Galbadia. How long it could last like that, the villagers never wanted to contemplate too heavily.

Squall saw Rinoa slowly heading off into the direction that Angelo was treading towards, and he gradually made his way there. He was again lost in ambivalent thought, considering Rinoa's potential reluctancy to be a part of the gang again and considering the fact that the gang didn't give two shits about the potential danger that she could become.

He had a sickening thought of what they might think if she _did_ transform into a being worse than Adel and Ultimecia combined.

For the moment, though, his friends remained near the spaceship or ventured down to the western shoreline-obviously leaving the two of them alone for the while. It was roughly 9:15, and the Sun was beginning to warm the chilly atmosphere up a bit. While it rarely snowed down in Centra, the high humidity and the mountainous thunderclouds were forming up far in the east and bringing down sheets of sleet rain over there. Compared to Esthar's dry hot weather, Centra's felt like a gift.

Angelo popped his cute furry head out of a small bush nearby and seemed to beckon him down a shortcut. Squall took it and hopped over strewn wreckage and stone tablets until he saw the familiar raven hair billowing in the breeze. What used to be an arbor entwined with rose-petal vines opened the orphanage to the immense flower garden; now, however, only one pillar of the arbor stood erect, and another lay half-complete on the cobblestone ground nearby. Poppies grew through the cracks of the cobblestone, and the smell of each type of flower slightly overpowered the senses.

Her dog quietly trotted up to him and rubbed his muzzle against Squall's pant leg. He bent down to ruffle the pooch's ears and thought to himself, _What should talk about with her?_ To the mutt, he whispered, "What do _you_ think I should talk to her about?"

Angelo only panted.

"Not about the Sorceress stuff, huh? A bit too much now, you think?"

The dog growled low to signal an affirmative.

"You're probably right, I don't think that'd be a good idea either." He felt a gaze on him, and he looked to see her smiling and shaking her head.

"That cutey's got two masters now."

Angelo barked loudly.

"He's been indispensible in your absence," Squall acknowledged. He slowly stood fully up and then, for once in his SeeD career, took a big long deep breath of fresh air.

"Finally!" Rinoa giggled.

"What?"

"Look at you. You're finally taking it easy for once. The strict military side of you has waned, because of me." She added that last part with a coy smile.

"Oh?" he asked, slowly walking towards her with a smile on his face. "You're taking _all_ of the credit, huh?"

"Well...I guess I had a little help."

"Yeah, I saw the flashbacks. You worked on everybody, and they in turn reciprocated."

Rinoa smiled, looked back at the fields and started playing with her hair.

"Heh," Squall muttered.

"What?"

"Now _you're_ the one that's lost in thought."

"Oh!" she giggled. "Not nearly as bad as _you_."

"..Whatever. What's on your mind?"

"Well..." she started. A cool winter breeze billowed up through the flower field and smacked them gently. They both decided to sit down on one of the overturned pillars dotting the walkway, and their view of the field increased by doing so. Angelo took a seat between the two of them and pressed against their legs on his side. "I was thinking," Rinoa continued in a sigh, "of what was to become of me."

"Good things, of course," he replied, rubbing her upper back softly.

"Stop it, I'm being serious."

"Oh, and I'm just fooling," he groaned. "Don't worry about it, Rinoa. In the long history of this world, there have been many good Sorceresses that ruled with more of Eden's blessing granted to them than under Hyne's. I mean... look at Edea. For the majority of the time she was under the power-for roughly ten years-she ruled peacefully. It was only by the time that I reached SeeDship that she began to turn into that violent streak. That might've been the workings of a potential plot device there, on Cid's part. I think he wanted that to happen so that I had the possibility of saving his wife. And not just me, of course, but everybody that Cid trusted to get the job done. And it was done."

She gave him a look that registered he was overexplaining the situation.

"My point is is that you can be like her."

She gazed off into the field and thought about that. "But...she's still-none of this is a guarantee, Squall. If Ultimecia possesses me again, I can't guarantee that anyone's safety is in order. You saw what I did up in space. All those men...that..had to die. Adel's seal broken." She rubbed her face slowly, as if it were numb. "What could happen next? What if I end up decimating hundreds of people with just a simple wave of my arm? Would... would I end up fighting you all.. one day?" She looked to him then, and she wasn't sure by his expression exactly what he thought of that- he seemed a little delerious about that idea. "It is a... scary thought, isn't it?"

She bowed her head down and closed her eyes, relaxing herself into more thought again. She looked just like him in their early days of interaction, and he had to laugh at that inside. He mimiced her then but gazed out to some distant point along the horizon of the flower field.

_Rinoa... why do you postulate about that?_

_ If you become the world's enemy...I..._

A crazy thought hit his head, one so daring and potentially reprehensible and one so damningly familiar. Someone else in his life had mentioned this particular "romantic" dream.

_I'll become your Knight_.

That thought fascinated him, and he didn't realize he was smiling. With that statement, he had just signed his own death warrant. As the world's enemy, Rinoa would be hunted forever and by all kinds of people. As the enemy's protector, Squall would receive the same treatment. He wondered if he _was_ a fool, as Quistis had called him earlier.

"If I fall under Ultimecia's control again," Rinoa suddenly said, in a voice so low that Squall had to really drown out the surroundings to hear it, "SeeD will come kill me. And... the leader of SeeD... is you, Squall." She gave a painful sigh, one that sounded choked with tears. "Squall's sword will pierce my heart and purify this land of my miserable nuisance. Well... I guess it's okay if it's you, Squall... nobody-"

"Enough!" Squall demanded, scaring her and Angelo. He stood up and looked down at her. "I will not listen to that kind of talk!"

"You can't drown that out!"

Angelo whimpered and trotted away into the bushes and peered out timidly as the two humans stared at each other sternly. A strong heat built up in frustration surrounded them.

He gave first. "I'd never do a thing like that, Rinoa."

"Yes, you would-"

"-Bullshit!"

"Squall, please, it's the truth!" She looked at him pleadingly but also in a tone to put him in place.

"The truth? The truth! Not after the things I have done to get us back together."

"This cannot go on, Squallie. When she possesses me again-"

"She will _not_ possess you again!" He shouted, genuflecting in front of her and grasping her knees. She recoiled a bit, as he pressed down hard. "_You_ are not the Sorceress I'm after, Rinoa. You'll _never_ be."

She blinked furiously. "Wh-What are you saying?"

He looked behind her to see if they were alone. "I'll never strike you down. Even if... she... takes you under her power."

She stared wide-eyed at him, but it wasn't awe. It was anger. She slapped him hard across the face and snapped, "Do you understand what you just said?"

"Do you?" he asked. "I would give..._anything_.. to be with you. Under _any_ circumstances."

She swallowed hard. "_Any_?"

"Any."

Her face started turning red, almost as bright as his right cheek, and her eyes started to tear up. She rubbed the spot where she hit him and then burst. "I- Squall-"

He brought her warm forehead to his lips and kissed it and then gently buried her face in his chest. "You don't have to say anything."

They hugged a good long while, and he didn't mind one bit that her tears stained his undershirt- or her snot.

"My enemy, and your enemy, is the Sorceress from the future. Ultimecia. She cannot get away with her scheme. She cannot mobilize a death army to all events that have transpired across the pages of history and mock it into her own terrible version."

"Squall... Ultimecia lives in the future. She uses my body as an extension through time. How will you save me from falling under her trap?"

He groaned and pulled her head up to face his. "Enough with the doubt. I'll find a way. There's _got_ to be a way."

She only looked at him, unconvinced.

"Did I have a plan when I jumped into space to retrieve you?"

"No, you didn't."

He looked away for a second and then back to her again with a foolish expression. "Yeah, I really didn't."

"So...?"

"But look what came across. The _Ragnarok_ showed up."

"That was a luck of the draw!"

"Our hand was good in that draw."

"Oh my god!" she cried, pushing him away.

He pulled her right back. "_Every_thing that I have done in my whole life has been my gut instinct."

She widened her eyes.

"Look around you... at everyone. Nobody wants to admit it, but all of us didn't have a damn clue about what we should do. Sure, some had snippets of ideas... but no clear connection to link them all up. Literally, Rinoa. Look... whoever runs the operations of this world.. Eden, Hyne, or something else, whatever... aids us out every so often. Other than that, it is up to us to figure out the best course of action. Luckily for me, I've seemed to pick the best choices every single time. But I want you to rest assured... I will again pick the best choice to defeat this Sorceress and save you from joining her rank."

"But-"

"No, buts."

She pressed hard with her nails into his skin. "Listen to me!"

He sighed irritably.

"What if you do defeat her... but she uses one of her little techniques to infiltrate me and turn me into a more dangerous possession?"

"How could she? She'd be dead."

"Do you know anything about Hyne?"

"It'll never happen."

"Confident?" she snapped.

"Like I said, I-"

"-won't let it happen, I gotcha you, Squall," she said sarcastically.

Squall sighed and stood back up away from her warmth. "Don't worry about the future. Everything will be good. Trust me."

She was silent for a while. "...Alright... I trust you."

Angelo whimpered a bit and slowly trotted out of his bush. He settled down on the cool cobblestones and watched the two of them. Squall leaned against the erect pillar and looked back out across the field. The heat between the two cooled down as another breeze blew between them. A lightning bolt far off to the east electrified the sky, and roaring thunderclap smacked the air.

"To be on the safe side, Squallie, I think I should stay in Esthar's custody."

"Hell no," Squall replied, not taking his eyes off the field. "That'd be pointless."

"Why?"

He turned to her. "I'll be back to retrieve you again."

"Against a bigger opposition?"

"I'd take down all five million of them, Rinoa."

While that thought both relieved and excited her, she slowly shook her head and formed a gently smile.

"Just stay close to me," he said, turning his gaze back to the field.

Those words and his gesture with his hand immediately elicited a gasp from her.

He turned back. "What's wrong?"

She clasped her hands against her chest. "Those words!"

He cocked an eyebrow.

"That's what started everything."

"What are you talking about?"

She frowned and crossed her arms across her chest. "You don't remember?"

He looked away for a second and then looked clueless at her again. "Something I said?"

She huffed. "Forget it."

An image sparked in his head, and he grew red in the face- a sign she immediately caught. "Deling City. Right after those lizard things attacked you."

"Gee, I guess _that's_ it," she said with a sly smile and her arms still crossed.

"The GFs are taking all my good memories."

"No, you're just making up shit," she teased.

"Well, I am a little shithole sometimes."

She laughed. "More like a shitstack."

"What?" he laughed, and she burst out laughing. Her face turned beet red. "You are crazy," he said, and he walked up to her laughing form. "Feeling better?"

She wiped the tears away from her face, and laughed a bit more. "Yeah. A _lot_ better, actually."

"Good," he said, smiling and sitting down next to her. More closely and with his arm around her waist.

She scooted even closer. "Can I tell you a story?"

"No."

She looked at him, and he laughed. "Kidding, of course you can tell me a story."

She smacked his chest. "It's actually a dream I had a while back. Kinda a scary dream."

"Did it have clowns in it?"

"Oh no. But I have had scary dreams with clowns in it, though."

"Yeah, me too. I don't know of anybody that likes those fucking dingleberries."

"Anyway," she giggled, "it was about us."

"A scary dream about us? What, did I have my genitalia chopped off or something?"

"No!" She smacked his chest again. "Would you hush and let me tell the story?"

"Of course, of course," he said tickling her side and pleased to find that she was a very ticklish girl.

"Geez. Kinda hard to concentrate with you pawing me here, even though it feels good. Uh, anyway, yeah we make a promise in my dream. A promise to go see shooting stars together."

"Like that night at the SeeD ball?"

"Yeah, but not indirectly like that. I get dressed up in that pretty white dress again and I put on your ring. But... the thing is... I can't remember where to meet you."

"You forgot the meeting place?"

"Yeah," she said sadly. Her face saddened as she recalled the dream more vividly. "I've never had a dream so real before. When I couldn't remember where to meet you, I started to panic. I really wanted to see you, Squall, but I didn't know where to go. So, I started running everywhere. Through mountains, forests, rivers, valleys. I went through all the cities: Timber, Dollet, Balamb, Trabia City, Deling City.

"When I finally got so tired that I could barely run anywhere... that's when I began to truly get despondent. I really, really wanted to see you, Squall. I... I needed you. I screamed to the heavens, _'Squall! Where are you!_' Then I woke up. I was covered in sweat, and my cheeks were stained with tears."

They were both quiet for a little while, as another breeze gently blew through.

"I'm sorry," she said startling him. "You don't have to say anything."

"That is a disturbing dream. My handsome mug is nowhere to be found through most of it."

She giggled softly. "I know. I couldn't stop crying when I awoke, because of it."

"It was just a dream, though. Dreams normally don't come true."

"Now _that's_ dumb! I dreamt when I was a little girl that I would have a prince in shining armor come and sweep me off my feet!" She looked at his wacked-out expression. "It happened, too."

"Now _that's_ a dream," he said, sarcastically.

She sighed. "You're too practical, Squall. Not romantic at all."

"Well, that's because there's something missing in your dream."

"Duh. _You_, silly."

"Of course, but that's not the most important thing in there."

She looked at him peculiarly.

He stood up off the pillar and took a step toward the field. He waved his arm around and motioned her to take in the whole field. "I'll be here."

She raised her eyebrows, viewed the entire scene and then looked at him. "...Why?"

He turned to face her. "The reason why you couldn't find me was because we haven't promised yet."

"But we did. We promised to see shooting-"

"-Yeah, but we didn't promise where to meet to see them."

She suddenly realized the answer to her problem and smiled sheepishly at him.

He took her hand and pulled her up to her feet and closer to him. "I'll be waiting for you. If you come here, you will find me. I promise."

Their bodies were close, their lips closer to each other. The warmth from each of them consumed the both of them, and it was making her swoon. Through the giddiness, she finally found his romantic side, and she grew more excited by the second. "I'll be here too, Squall! It's a promise."

He smiled down at her, and she smiled up at him.

They closed their eyes and moved their lips closer together.

Something fell against the pillar and startled the both of them.

Zell clumsily got up from where he had fallen and was met with angry, acidic looks from both of them.

"I am so, so, so sorry, you two, I-" He couldn't finish, for their gazes were too strong.

"You goddamn mother fucker," Irvine yelled from across the way, "they were just about to kiss!"

"I didn't mean to interrupt!" Zell fired back.

"What do you want?" Squall muttered, still in his embrace.

The brawler's face was beet red, and their consternating looks made him stammer worse than ever before. "W-W-We had em-emergency con-contact from the Est-Estharian Presidential Palace."

"The Presidential Palace?"

"Y-Y-Yes. The President w-wants to speak with us. He says Ell-Ellone is there, too, and sh-she said the security w-will be toned down."

"Who sent this message?"

"Th-That's the thing."

They waited, but the brawler didn't immediately tell. He just had a dumbass expression on his face. "_What's_ the thing?" Squall demanded.

"We might kn-know him. He said his name's Kiros."

Squall's hand traced down Rinoa's back like a dead fish, and he became rigid again. "Kiros?"

"Possibly the same one?"

"I don't think so. I think all three of them are dead. Their memorials are all over the city."

"Th-Then, what?"

"I dunno, it might be a trap to get Rinoa back in there. But... if Ellone is there, then I'll allow a second visit to the city." He sighed irritably. "Get the ship ready."

"I am so, so, so-"

"Get the fucking ship ready, already!" Rinoa snapped.

Zell immediately yelped and sped off to the ship. Squall looked at her, stunned, but she smiled coyly and kissed the corner of his mouth. "I trust you," she said softly and walked over towards the ship.

Squall watched her leave, looked down at Angelo's panting muzzle, shook his head slowly and then walked after her.

* * *

A Molotov cocktail was flung into an office building and the concrete set ablaze. Throngs of police in full-body riot gear blasted rubber bullets and tear canisters into a million-strong crowd of angry and defiant Estharian civilians. The Tyrannical hordes had long since exited the city with their chortling representatives of Congress and had traveresed the now-precarious wasteland of Esthar towards the Lunatic Pandora. A few green lights had been permitted to some of the more carniverous denizens of the Sorceress Adel, and several packs of Imps now attacked freely the more sympathetic sections of the Dagobas and San Fierro boroughs. They even made small headways into downtown Esthar, before massive amounts of napalm obliterated their bodies into purple goo across the pavement.

There were still a few hundred Congressmen leading the charge for stability within the city, and the President's advisors and security task forces were hard at work subduing the police force and calming the irate population down. In virtually all sections of the city, business was ceased altogether, transportations systems were shut off, and even public utilities were suspended for several hours. Electrical units were only used for government buildings, and a curfew was rapidly being implemented.

At precisely 1:00, the Imps charged headlong into the city and started ripping people apart left and right. In one of Esthar's long traditions of history, everyone stopped their infighting and turned toward their new menace- a common enemy. For half an hour, roughly two million Estharians held off several hundred thousand purple-tailed creatures with a tenacity not seen since the Revolution. Gradually, Adel's line routed, but a new monster more frightening than the pawn devils emerged. An Iron Giant, nine feet tall and built like a tank smashed through the city's barricades and took out a skyscraper with one hard cleaveof its sword. The building crumbled into bits, shaking out the residents inside and flattening everything underneath. The Estharian military pummeled six cannon shots into its stomach, but the damn monster-as they already knew-was almost resilient to anything. The Iron Giant was a slow creature because of its weight, but it took its sweet time making mincemeat of several more high-risers and all the humans underneath.

At precisely 1:45, a loud vuvuzuella was heard, followed by three more equally loud horns. The entire fighting assembly looked to the western shorelines, just visible from their positions, and saw an unusual sight. It was Balamb Garden, fully reconstructed and decked out in a much advanced high-tech equipment, flanked by a dozen heavily-armed warships with Centran, Trabian and FH insignias. In the front of the pack, twenty Blue SeeD ships with heavily-armed laser cannonades laid anchor on the Estharian beaches. One Blue SeeD ship sighted directly on the Iron Giant and launched a full salvo into the beast. The Iron Giant took the first five, stumbled against the next six and dropped with the twelvth shot into a crumpled metal crackpot, its sword falling to the side.

The city fell quiet, and the red mist on the outskirts faded a bit to the horizon. Both Garden and the armada of friendly ships docked along the beaches, and millions of Estharians shut down their business activities for the fourth time in less than seventy-two hours and went to give a gracious and well-deserved gratitude and welcome to a highly-respected crew. The majority of the city's population had been moderate about the catastrophe affecting the Congressional hordes, and most of the antagonists had departed for the shelter of the Lunatic Pandora. The President and his cabinet made their way down to greet Cid Kramer for the first time in a long time. Even though a tension still hung in the air, the Estharian majority was eager to finally get the country on track to prosperity again, as well as to fortify defense measures against the inevitable assault.

One man was left to partake in the round of talks.

Unfortunately, his recent antics had earned him a disrepute among the general populace.

* * *

At 5:15, the _Ragnarok_ cruised within one mile of the Estharian continent, and Quistis gave a collective gasp. The others didn't question her, because they all saw their old Balamb Garden home docked on the shores via their own personal telescreens. The vessel had definitely gotten an upgrade and looked ready to take on anything that was thrown at it.

But what were the other vessels? Not even Quistis had an answer for that. She wasn't aware of the Headmaster's stock roll of blue warships.

A couple hours earlier, as Cid's crew had comfortably made their home in the President's suite, the last remnants of Imp fodder had been cleared and economic business had returned to normalcy. A great amount of construction teams were out en masse, cleaning up the remaining debris from the Super Guard attack and the succession of skirmishes that had plagued the city when Congress ran to shambles.

At 5:20, all who were out in the streets or commuting through the multi-colored skywalks looked up in one collective movement as the awesome and magnanimous airship of yore soared across the gridiron city and through the towering skyscrapers. Set against the afternoon light, the striking red colors flashed across the window panes; the blue, green, yellow and orange around the dragon head cockpit flashed like the multi-faceted fires of hell; and the purple on the hind legs accentuated a dark vibrant hue. Some of the less-educated members of the city swore they heard the ship roar like the famed, mythic howls of Bahamut. Yet, all as one stopped whatever they were doing and beheld the long-forgotten sight of the Easterner's masterpiece- more than likely some wrecks were caused on the streets as a result.

The passengers onboard could see the inquisitive looks through the telescreens, but some could even be seen on the rooftops and penthouse suites of high-rise buildings. A local air traffic controller redirected Selphie over to the main airport hanger three blocks away from the Presidential Palace, and the spunky girl swerved the ship over to the topmost helipad, conveniently left vacant for their arrival. She brought it down directly in the center of the ring and then proceeded to chastise Irvine for doubting her abilities.

A sense of excitement filled the cockpit. Selphie shut off the engines and together with everyone except Squall and Rinoa left the ship. The Commander saw his beloved stare nervously at the floor.

"I should wear a cloak... or something."

"No."

She looked at him warily.

"That won't be necessary. Ever."

She nodded and proceeded with him after the others.

Irvine popped open the hanger's doors, and as the rig opened up and the ramp shot out they were greeted with hundreds of stoic faces. The helipad had become congested with people almost immediately, and silence stung the air.

The ever suave cowboy looked back at Squall coming down the ladder and said, "Sounds like a party going down."

"Well," Squall responded coming to his side and taking the lead, "I guess we crashed it."

They all chuckled slightly at that, and he led the way out of the ship.

There were more than a few hissing sounds at the sight of Rinoa stuck in the middle of the group, but most kept silent. Their eyes, however, showed that of a derelict gargoyle statue on some gothic building, and their gaze followed her everywhere.

Squall led his group off the ramp and onto the pad. Without a suitable guide, he figured they'd become lost in the primordial soup of bodies. Luckily for them, the same Donald Wise who had greeted them on their first arrival was waiting for them by the door to the main hanger. He had a fake smile on his face.

"So nice to see you again, Mr. Leonhart."

Squall slowly reached his hand out, and the two rigidly shook hands. "Same here, Mr. Wise."

"The President has wished to speak to you... and..er.. to give consolation and protection... to our new Sorceress over here."

The group looked at each other with perplexed expressions. "Protection?" Squall asked.

"He hasn't given any details. I'm sure that once you all talk, a coordinated plan will be dispersed amongst all of us, and then we can begin to fend off Adel's army."

"So... we're cool to bring Rinoa into the main city?"

Wise hesitated. "You're cool."

With that statement, the previously stiffnecked crowd became a gel-like entity and little by little the thick tension simmered to a break-even quality. The faces, the expressions, the body language and the attitude all seemed to tell the SeeDs that relief was of necessity. They seemed to recognize that was a far more pressing issue at hand than worrying about an inactive Sorceress that was more than likely to feeble to engender a full destruction of their city. A fickle response? Maybe so, but it helped relieve the SeeD's worry, and Don Wise looked generally more amicable as a result.

"Come with me, Squall," he said more politely, "Mr. Kramer has wanted to see you all again."

Don took them down the airport's floors and out into the city once more. It was a short walk, and the group was pleased to see the working ethic returning to normal once again in the city. The Presidential Palace was also getting a slight makeover on account of having been scraped by the passing of the Pandora earlier. They eventually reached the top floor of the Palace and were greeted informally by a lovely sight.

"Finally! You all take the longest time to get back with me."

Stunned as usual, they could only look at Ellone's cheerful face as she bounded down the hallway to meet them. She hugged them all tightly one by one, even Rinoa who she stopped to talk with directly. "Pay no heed to the sour feelings around here, Rinoa. They'll change their minds completely once we get things worked out here."

"What do you-?"

"You'll see!" Ellone replied cheerfully. She giggled at the other's expressions. "Come on, he's waiting for you!"

"Wait," Squall said.

She looked at him with a big smile on her face.

"Do we know this guy?" he asked, hesitantly.

Ellone, still smiling, shook her head. "You are _so_ dense sometimes."

He just looked at her funny.

She rolled her eyes and motioned with her arm. "Come on!"

The President's private chambers were set apart away from the main lobby, and a glass-chambered wing connected the two rooms together. As Ellone led them up to the room, they were treated with a rousing and haunting portrayal of the far eastern landscape. The deep burgundy mist of the Lunar Cry hung intensely thick around the pinnacle of Tears' Pointe- the ever-insidious Lunatic Pandora. Its eerie light could be seen as a tiny pinprick against the horizon.

The high-ranking soldiers guarding the President's entrance moved aside with big smiles on their face, and Ellone led them inside.

"We're here!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Ho-ly shit," Zell said prematurely.

Irvine, Quistis and Selphie each registered the same expression but failed to speak out of sheer astoundment.

Rinoa and Mila just acted the part of astonishment but became more and more confused.

Squall, the most shocked of the group, barely could move forward as his legs had been turned to jello.

A pool table was placed against the lone window, and the sweet smell of marijuana was lilting in a bowl on a nearby table. The Secretary of State was leaning over judging up a shot and chuckling slyly to himself, while the Vice President in all his girth was looking at the SeeDs with a kind grin on his face.

"I can't believe it's really them," Ward Zabac, the Vice President of Esthar, said.

Kiros Seagill, the Secretary of State, took the shot and put the 8-ball in the hole. "Well, I can't believe you just lost this game. You didn't even get one ball in."

Ward looked down at the table. "Fuck pool. Billiards is a waste of time."

"That's the pot talking right there, man."

"Oh, man," Squall heard himself say, startling the others.

"Oh, man indeed," came the third familiar voice- and all the more astounding.

Squall looked to the very back of the room near a fireplace (_a fireplace?_, he thought) with a large painting of the man himself resting above it, and Laguna Loire, President of Esthar, got out of his plush red velvet chair and walked over to the SeeDs with that same innocent, dumbass expression on his face.

"Been wanting to meet you guys!" Laguna eagerly announced, shaking first Squall's hand vigorously and then the other's. "You were all inside our heads at one point in time, right?"

"Uh..." Squall started to say.

"Of course!" Selphie blurted. "You were that cute Galbadian soldier at one point that revolted and made a life at Winhill-"

"-and then Ellone was kidnapped, and you went on a journey to save her-" Zell said.

"-followed by your captivity at Esthar," Irvine added.

"Oh yes," Kiros muttered, recalling those wonderful years.

"Ellone told us about you all when we recovered her a month ago," Laguna said, with a brilliant twinkle in his eye. "Ah, but before, years ago, when all that stuff was happening, it was like waves or something were washing in our heads. It gave us so much power in our battles, like we could conquer anything in the blink of an eye!"

"Decimation," Ward added with sick flavor.

"Annihlation, actually!" Laguna corrected. "We thought they were some kind of faeries floating over us, like whispering things into our ear-" He felt a tap on his shoulder.

"I think you should lay off the description, Laguna," Kiros suggested. "You might be freaking them out a bit."

The President saw the group's expression that resembled that of just seeing their grandparents naked. "Oh, yeah, heh, I get a bit carried away sometimes."

"Oh, don't worry," Zell snickered, "_we_ know."

Kiros and Ward guffawed at that, and Laguna sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

Ellone came up around the side. "Aww.. they're just being appreciative, Uncle Laguna. Come on, there's so much to talk about here."

"Yeah, like how _you_ became President," Irvine chuckled.

"Irvy!" Ellone snapped.

"No, no, that's a legitimate question," Laguna said, "and one that will be answered shortly. I am sure, though, that you all would like to see Headmaster Cid again."

Their faces brightened, and immediately a door slid open and the man himself appeared, as jovial and befuddled as ever.

"It's been a long time," he said.

"Definitely," Quistis said, and she embraced him followed by Selphie and Mila. The guys took their turn in shaking his hand.

"Squall," Cid said, looking at him with obvious deferrence, "you just can't tame yourself down, can you?"

"Had to do what I had to do, sir," Squall responded.

"Well," Cid said, looking at Rinoa, "you did the right thing."

Movement behind them caught Quistis's attention, and her eyes widened to their fullest. "Xu!"

"In the flesh," she responded. Clad in striking blue and gold, she had a weary look around her eyes, but her smile was just as golden as they had all remembered. "Pleased to meet you all again! You're looking at the current head of the Blue SeeD, if you didn't know."

"I didn't know we had that," Quistis remarked.

"A Garden secret," Cid replied, chuckling to himself. "Edea's idea, actually. We kept them up in the Trabian mountains in tight-knit communities just in case we needed a backup plan."

"A deus ex machina?" Mila asked.

"I expected Squall to say that," Cid replied with a sly smile. "But no, I actually planned on using them during our battle on Lighthouse Pointe, but the distance was too great and the timing was too poor. Plus, you all singlehandedly succeeded in that post."

"This one might be a little rougher, I think," Xu said.

"Indeed," Laguna said cheerfully. "All of your exploits have reached our newspapers since the first Galbadian attack on Dollet four months ago, when they were trying to scramble up our satellite systems."

"Most bugger idea there," Ward said, taking a deep drag off of his blunt.

"Squall," Cid said nudging the clearly perplexed Commander, "don't be shy now. We've got a lot to talk about."

Laguna chuckled. "Yeah, man, you look way too serious over here."

Squall glared at him, but the others laughed and got more relaxed around the room. Zell and Irvine tag-teamed to attempt to beat Ward and Kiros at a game of pool, but even in their high-induced state the two chuckleheads managed to beat the SeeDs wholeheartedly. Quistis, Selphie and Mila gathered around Xu and Cid and started reminiscing quietly while keeping an ear open to Squall's and Laguna's conversation. Rinoa just sat on the sofa with Ellone and Angelo. Rinoa was probably the most confused out of all of them, having not experienced any of the "faerie" dust nor recognizing any of the three goofballs running the largest and most prosperous city on the planet.

So, Ellone quietly filled her in on the details... as well as something else that immediately shocked her as well.

"So, you advanced pretty quickly," Laguna said to Squall with a smile on his face.

"Well, look who's talking. How the heck did you become the President?"

"Well..."

"Wait, I thought you-"

"-Passed away?" Laguna said immediately.

"Yeah? Right after you critically wounded her."

"Oh, that wasn't the end of the story," Laguna laughed.

"Not hardly the end at all," Kiros said from across the room.

"Well, bring us up to speed," Squall asked tersely.

"Hold that thought," Laguna said, as a sliding glass door opened in the back. A cheerful Moomba came out with a platter in its hands. Two glasses of most likely hard rum were placed on it. "I gather you're just like me in the liquor department."

Squall was quite surprised to find a Moomba here and even more surprised to find out that Laguna favored the same gin as he did. "Uh, yeah, that's good."

The Moomba seemed to enjoy being around Squall, for it hung for awhile by his pant leg.

"After our adventures in Nagansett," Laguna said, drinking his glass, "and after we got settled in here, the Shumi started being our largest trade partners- and they still are- and the Moombas started sending tons of workers here. Esthar is primarily their second home."

"Tell them about the Galbadians, though," Ward interjected.

Laguna grunted. "Yeah, we had to set up sentries along the Trabian-Estharian Pass, because those damn blugus would keep snatching them up and sending them to the D-District Prison." His eyes suddenly flashed. "Which I have to say thank you to all of you. You managed to blow that place up."

"You know about that?" Zell asked dumbly.

"Of course, dude," Irvine said bumping him on the head. "Didn't you hear earlier? They've gotten all of our exploits in the papers."

"Exactly," Laguna said. "However, I must say that because of the blast about thirteen of the inmates died, so I guess it wasn't a fully successful advent."

"Well, yeah, I guess," Squall said sheepishly.

"What the hell was that though that killed the towers?"

"It was Quetzacotyl!" Selphie said energetically.

"Quetza-who?" Laguna asked.

"Quetzacotyl," Squall said. "A Guardian Force."

"They really exist?" Laguna asked, his face registering a very confused shock. "So, all these little statues in the Dagobas borough are true."

"Of?"

"Bahamut and Eden? And all that jazz?"

"Yeah, they're true, although I don't know about the Eden one. I guess so, anyway, but who gives a damn about that. I want to know _your_ side of the story, Mr. President."

His friends looked at him funny, but he didn't care. He was starting to get agitated.

"Alright, alright," Laguna sitting up on a table. "You know that I was a soldier in the Galbadian army doing little errands like rounding up suspected Timber insurgents and whatnot. Well, the three of us didn't like our jobs so much, and it only increased after our excursion in the Centran continent in what is now the excavated Lunatic Pandora. We were injured badly, especially Ward over there, and we each washed up on different shores. Kiros at the Kelso Juncture, Ward in the Dingo Desert and myself at the Winhill Peninsula closest to the Centran Coast Guard Command center.

"The town of Winhill didn't like me very much, because of my background roots. The Galbadians had helped the Estharians destroy much of the countryside and steal little girls to be used in experiments or as heirs to Adel's throne. One such foray killed Ellone's parents on the spot, but the little girl had been taken into shelter into the company of Raine Hart. Naturally, since I was a Galbadian soldier, the Winhillians didn't care too much for me, but they tolerated me since I had the blessings of the Centran protectorate. Raine had helped nurse me back to health, as she was working part-time with the Centran command at the time, and we had started to become friends at that point. She agreed to watch over me in the town, and I shacked up next door in Ellone's old house and made a pact with the citizens to ward off intermittent attacks from Adel's monsters.

"The pact worked out well. I became the established Monster Hunter of Winhill and gradually earned the people's trust, as well as that of Ellone and Raine. With Raine, something better was earned, a feeling that took me a long time to get a hold of, but, well, you know. Then, Kiros came by suddenly. Like, totally out of the blue. He had received word that Ward was in the D-District Prison and was working as a janitor. He could not speak, for his throat had practically been shredded. Well, the thing to do was to go get him out and then formulate a plan there. The idea was to go to Timber and become journalists and write or blog about all the shit we saw and did across three whole continents.

"But... I had grown in love with Raine at that point, and Kiros recognized it immediately, the smug bastard. We couldn't leave then, so we didn't. Then, not a month later, the Estharians attacked again, and they used the normally neutral land of Ithius to aid them. They kidnapped Ellone and decimated a large part of the town. Now, we were in a rut, and we had to get Ward out of jail. So, I painfully left Raine there and promised to be back with Ellone as soon as possible."

Laguna sighed erratically. "This is the most painful part of my entire story. I did not know that she was pregnant when I left."

An uneasy silence dispersed across the room.

"Well," he started again, "we sprung Ward out of prison, thanks to you all- in those dream sequences I mean. Phenomenal piece of work Ellone's power is. Then, we set off for Ithius, the likely place where Elle was deposited. She had been there but had been sold to the highest bidder to make the trek into Esthar. At that time, there weren't capable ships to cross the treacherous eastern waters of the Central Sea nor was Fisherman's Horizon fully built at that time. We earned valuable trust with the Ithians and most importantly the Shumi, after I bumbled my way twice in that scene.

"The Shumi finally set us on a straight path, but we ran out of money... and got lost again somewhere near Trabia City. Our luck ran across a porn production movie set with an extremely talentless director and a ludicrous female lead. Our antics up in the Trabian Pass disturbed the dragons residing there, and we were chased out near the border of Esthar. The porn crew perished, but we were captured on the border of the two continents and enslaved.

"For more than a month, we worked for eighteen hours a day in the salt mines in northwestern Esthar. The present-day Feingold borough, to be precise. Doctor Odine, the wise old bastard, was in charge of the mines and periodically checked up on securing the Lunatic Pandora from a remote-controlled airspace in his nearby laboratory. There in the salt mines, under harsh watch by the Sorceress Adel herself, I met the future radical leaders of the world: Charles Higgins, the man who had coordinated all twelve underground resistances into a collective unified body; Thomas Haydyn, who eventually became the most liberal leader on the western continent in the Dollet Dukedom; Adam Dobe and Samuel West, who both became leaders of Fisherman's Horizon; and Duncan Clarke, or as you know him best, the Master Fisherman, a spirtual and logical man who ran an underground spy network between the western, eastern and northern continents gathering information and helping Headmaster Cid here train and support the Blue SeeD units effectively.

"Both Higgins and Haydyn are now dead. The main thoroughfare in Esthar is named after Higgins for the man's brilliant stand against Adel, and now we are in the process of commemorating an entire new borough to Haydyn's memory.

"But, after all that, they chose _me_ to be the leader of the entire resistance. Why? you ask. They figured I was the most charismatic and outspoken man they had ever seen. And handy in a fight when the going went tough. Interestingly enough, Squall, you all's powers helped in the beginning of that tussle- when Kiros, Ward and I made the jail break on the salt mines. But after we rescued Ellone and then led the assault, that power was all ours. All five of you were mere spectators."

"How?" Squall asked. "I still felt your presence."

"I think we had grown into our own," Laguna said. "After Cid took Ellone to safety back to Winhill, I knew what I had to do. I wanted desperately to be back with Raine, but I wanted Ellone to be safe and secure once and for all. If I had sent her back to Winhill without taking care of Adel, then that Sorceress would be right back in to snatch her up before I could even do anything about it. I had to take a stand. So, I basically shrugged everything off and charged into the Chimera and Imp pack. The Iron Giant was no match for me, too, and when Adel showed up she was so beside herself with fury that she had become worthless in a fight. I did what I had to do, same as all you have done, Squall.

"I cleaved Adel so hard that a majority of her power was destroyed. Her Knights immediately saved her from an eventual onslaught and they beat a hasty retreat. The doctors were all on me then, as I laid there bleeding to death. I had many thoughts run through my head, all of them good and wonderful. But... my love for both Raine and Ellone was enough to abate Death's call, and the medics managed to save my life. However... at a severe cost. I could not be able to fight again, for fear of overheating my blood pressure. The stab of Adel's weapon into my body had corroded my bloodstream and induced a strange sickness over me. For the past seventeen years, I have been successful in overcoming its strong bouts, but it would not be wise for me to fight again. The good thing was that I survived, and the entire Estharian population owed me a complete debt of gratitude.

"Now, of course, not everyone was appreciative, and not everything turned out all right. As soon as Cid and Ellone got back to Winhill, Raine gave birth to a boy and she died as a result of complications in the birth. Cid's wife Edea took him in, as well as Elle, and both of them sent word back to me. That was the start of a period of trials and tribulations. Adel was perceivably weakened by my blow, and her Knights were threatening retaliation. Immediately, after all good things come to an end, political strife gripped our nation, led by Odine and his conspirators. Strangely enough, a rally formed around me to tackle the problem, and with the help of Clarke and Haydyn I managed to build both a credible city out of the smokestacks that laid here before and build a so-called Sorceress Memorial.

"As you well know, the Estharian are excellent craftsmen, mechanics and constructors. I let the rebuilding of Esthar into a monumental metropolis solely in the hands of Dobe and West with Haydyn and Clarke supervising, while I then concentrated on cajoling Odine into my sphere. The old scientist had started quarreling viciously with Adel's Knights over the proper use of the Lunatic Pandora. Adel wanted it excavated to cause a Lunar Cry to come down and restore her with more power. Odine wanted the Lunatic Pandora buried, so that it could enrich the Centran earth where he hailed from and shower him with agricultural riches. That had always been his long-standing goal: to become a multi-billionaire off of agriculture at the expense of the working-class farmers in Galbadia or Trabia.

"Fortunately, Kiros arrived at a good bargain and one that would help out Ward as well. If Odine would allow the central component of the Pandora to be extricated and buried underneath the center of the city, that component would enrich the earth and bring about the bountiful agriculture and mineral harvest that Odine desperately wanted to control. In return, Odine would permanently repair Ward's damaged vocal cords and help rid Esthar of the Adel problem. He agreed. Now, Ward speaks just as he did before the Estharians cut his throat, and the Sorceress Memorial was constructed like a ziggurat to entice the curiousity of Adel.

"It seems that all Sorceresses enjoy shiny things- I'm not saying this to you yet, Rinoa-it's in their blood when they transform or something. So we decorated the Memorial out in vast amounts of gaudy decor, and Odine even added a spice to it which worked out more perfectly than we could ever hope. He invented a hologram of Ellone's persona and placed it inside the Memorial, in the event to fool Adel into finally retrieving Ellone at last.

"It worked. Adel's Knights bought the gag and she was more than pleased to learn about it. All of her monsters congregated around the Memorial, which was previously located at Tears' Pointe, and her Knights escorted her in. When she discovered that Ellone was a fake, it was too late for her. Odine flipped the trap, and all of the monsters congregating around the periphery were turned to stone, and they lay encased in that frame until this recent incident happened. The Knights were immediately vaporized under the extreme pressure inside the Memorial. Odine had outfitted this contraption good. The inside of the ziggurat was a precocious element that zapped the strength out of the succubus and neutralized her powers, permanently putting her into a comatose state. Much the same as what Seifer Almasy was attempting to do to Rinoa at the makeshift Memorial over by the Lagune. Adel tried to fight it, but her muscles constricted, and she was frozen inside the capsule.

"The Easterners had finished making the _Ragnarok_ models, and they connected themselves to the enormous tomb and flew it to the newly-constructed Lunar Base. As our first-ever flight takeoff, the payload was successfully launched into outer space, followed swiftly by the _Excalibur_ to oversee the imprisonment of this Sorceress."

"Didn't you think about killing her for good?" Squall asked.

"Of course, but Odine was more than curious to keep her alive, and that led to a furious quarrel back and forth between each other. Finally, I gave in and kept the deal under wraps from the majority of the public. We have brought back some interesting details about her past as well as her bodily functions, which might be useful in determining the outlook of Rinoa here."

Squall grunted.

"Well, now," Laguna said quickly," that is _your_ decision after all."

Squall grunted again. "Good."

"Because of our decisions, the Estharian population was even more grateful for the circumstances, and my approval rating based on roughly a million people polled was somewhere around 90%. This was about two years after we had rescued Ellone and liberated the resistance groups. The five boroughs currently residing now had been created, and Odine's scheme for agricultural had now put Esthar on the world economic map. The city had not a overall leader, just a few mayors controlling loose areas.

"So, big support groups rallied all ninety sectors of the city as well as the two hundred surrounding cities on this continent together and incorporated it into one giant Estharian metropolis, then at that time an estimated seven million people. They then named me the President of Esthar. Not knowing at all how to run a country, I turned to the only people I knew at the time: Kiros, who I originally wanted as the Vice President, but he hated leadership roles and preferred the more diplomatic State Department instead; Ward, who eventually became my Vice; Haydyn, who stayed for a time as Treasury Secretary, before leaving for Dollet; West and Dobe, who broke off to finally finish Fisherman's Horizon. The rest of my Cabinet was then filled out with very distinct personas that are now trying to desperately calm the citizenry down what with this latest debacle accumulating outside the city."

He sighed. "Three terms now, and it's a bit too much."

"Don't like leadership?" Squall asked.

"No, I do. It's just a bit tiresome sometimes. Not seeing Elle for so long got me down, too."

"Right. How long ago did you two regroup?"

Laguna looked over at her. "How long has it been?"

"Three weeks and six days, Laguna!" she replied cheerfully.

Laguna chuckled and shrugged. "I'm getting too old. 44 years old, but I feel like I'm 60."

"Cid and Edea gave you notice about... Raine's death?" Squall asked.

"Yes. They told me about what happened to her, and they told me Elle was safe in their hands. They also said a whole bunch of other kids were there, too, along with Elle and my son. I was... devastated.. to learn about Raine. Actually, for the first two years of my administration, Ward was the most visible speaker to the public. I just couldn't get over the pain.

"Except, I did eventually- or I was forced to. Odine just couldn't behave himself. After everything we gave him, after everything he wanted was obtained, he still was a greedy ass-fuck. He found about Ellone's whereabouts and about her special powers- the ones she used for you to see me and my exploits. Odine had only heard snippets of Ellone's powers from the Sorceress's Knights, but he didn't pay too much heed to it then. Only after he discovered Adel's notebooks did he become insipidly intrigued. He ordered an all-out search and finally found Ellone when she was nine years old at the Kramer Orphanage at Lighthouse Pointe.

"Cid was on a business venture in Nagansett funnelling resources to build Trabia, Galbadia and Balamb Gardens at the time, so he couldn't be around to stop the onslaught. Mind you, Cid was once a gunblader same as you Squall. He's an old man now, but that Punishment you're carrying was originally his. Heh, that's kinda interesting I think. Anyway, Edea was on her own, but she apparently was a Sorceress as well, something I didn't catch at the time when I spoke to her after Ellone had been whisked away to the White SeeD.

"Edea had gotten a sixth sense of Odine's plans, and she had rounded up the Centran White SeeDs to watch over Ellone and protect her from the merciless attack that would have come. Edea then used her guile to rout the Estharians from overtaking the orphanage. It wasn't the last time they would attack, though. That came four years later, when all the children were evacuated. The Estharians bombed the place but were dissipated by Edea and driven finally away. All of this went on behind my back, and when I found out about it, I intentionally closed off the city and forbade any military unit to perform an order without my say-so, and I confined Odine to a desk job where he has been ever since."

"Didn't that hurt you economically?" Squall asked.

"No. Thanks to the Master Fisherman, our products were exported to every market imaginable on the face of this earth, and we grew even more exponentially as a result. Congress didn't like it, or the majority actually. I have never had a favorable majority in Congress. Most of the members represent big business factions that are opposed to each of my policies, and they wholeheartedly oppose my control over the military. They have been the leading causes of these current insurrections and debacles conflicting throughout the city.

"More on that later. Back to Ellone. The White SeeD ship she rested on soon became another orphanage, and she became the kindly matriarch of the group until they arrived at Alcauld Island, and she was reunited with Cid. Then, she found you all there save for Irvine and Rinoa. While she was surprised you all didn't remember her, she nevertheless had an inkling about why. She endured all the exploits that you went through on the side, until the White SeeD came to warn her about her imperiled safety as Galbadia and Deling soon became embroiled in a massive civil war and dictatorship. They sped off to Centra, but a Galbadian armada cornered them.

"The SeeDs had good bearings for they landed right in my sphere of influence. I ordered a naval crew out immediately, and they decimated the blugu squadron. Ellone was safely ferried into the Presidential Palace here, and we finally reunited. It was at that time that you all duked it out on Centra, and we received the news with a grand celebration throughout the streets here. Even Congress had good things to say about that. Finally, though, it was time to check up on Adel, so I took Ellone with me, and then you all came into the city. Not calling you all a bad omen, but your entrance was just bad timing. Edea's powers were usurped and sent into Rinoa here. From Ellone's testimony, the Grand Sorceress Ultimecia of the future had now switched tactics to Plan B and was going to harvest Rinoa up as a sacrifice for Adel. It nearly almost worked.

"But," Laguna said , smiling at Squall," someone was brave enough to stop the process. Now, we have a Plan C formulating in Ultimecia's mind. She was going to utilize Plan B in a stepped-up fashion by basically doing a blood transfusion from Rinoa to Adel, but yet again she was foiled. Now... I am sure there is a Plan D, but we have yet to see to that."

"Exacataly!" came an extremely annoying voice.

They all turned their heads sharply to the new voice, and Zell immediately sneered. "Aw, goddammit! Not _you_ again!"

Odine shrieked. "Vhat is vrong vith seeing my bootiful mug, eh!" He grinned sneakily at all their repulsed faces and then stopped at Rinoa's . "Oh, ho ho. Ze Sorceress has been avakened!"

"You hold it right there, Odine!" Squall snapped. "You knew precisely what was making her comatose, and you didn't bother to tell us."

"Quite right!" the doctor grinned, taking one final lecherous look at a clearly uncomfortable Rinoa, before walking over next to Laguna's side. He noticed the President give him a glaring look, and he immediately centered himself upright. "So, are ve here to deezcuss ze plan to get Ultimecia?"

"Yeah," Laguna said. "Make it short and simple, okay?"

Odine spat. "Short and seemple? I vill talk however I want, thank you very much!"

Cid and Xu sighed irritably and went to sit down with Ellone and Rinoa. The rest of them relaxed a bit and looked as irritably at the detestable doctor. Even approaching 90 years old, he still managed to move about like a sprite.

"Yes," came a new voice, more pleasant to the sound. They all turned again, and Cid smiled big as his wife came into the room. Her headdress and Sorceress garb were no longer worn. Instead, like the old Matron they knew so well, she was clad in a simple elegant silver dress and her long brown hair was down in a straight manner. "You and I have had a talk, right," she told Odine, "don't pull any funny business."

"Y-Yes, ma'am," Odine mumbled.

Edea nodded once and sat down next to Cid.

"Egah," Odine began. "Very vell. Sorceress Ultimecia come from ze future to possess ze sorceress of ze present day. Zhat much is clear, no? Pretty much, she leaves her body in ze future and sends only her consciousness here, to ze present time. Eet's kind of a familiar process, no?"

Squall looked over at Ellone. "Like Elle's time manipulation? When she sends our consciousness back to the past?"

"Exacataly! You're a smart vun!" Odine replied, sarcastically. "Sounds incredibly simple, no? My first guess vas zat someone in ze future vith an ability like Ellone's was sending ze Sorceress back here to our present time. But zhen I had to chuckle at my expeense. Zat is too much of a simple ideer. So how _does_ ze Sorceress come into our time? Vant to hear how?"

"Yes!" Squall shouted angrily, looking ready to rip the bastard's throat out.

Odine meanwhile was laughing, like a kid who just unwrapped a long-awaited Christmas present. "I kept theese a secret even from you!" he said, pointing to Laguna. "Eet is because of _me_, Doctor Supreme Balthazar Odine."

"What?" Laguna asked.

"_Balthazar?_" Zell whispered to Irvine, who laughed at that.

"I researched Ellone's power long ago-"

"Yeah, Laguna told me about that," Squall said.

"No interjecting! Theese is deeferent! I researched a pattern from ze electric current running through her brain!"

"Electric current?" Ellone asked.

"Yeesh. You _all_ have electric currents running through yer brains!" Odine snapped. "Once ze pattern was determined it was easy to mechanize. Hee, hee. Theenk about it! A fully mechanized consciousness manipulator!" He looked around gleefully, an innocent playful look in his eyes, ready to be showered with platitudes of graciousness. Instead, he saw only dull looks on each of them. "Ah, fuck it all, zhat is ze greatest invention known to mankind!"

"Duh, what?" Selphie asked.

"I am afraid you are getting in way over your head, doctor," Cid said.

"No!" Odine snapped him, gesturing with his finger. "It may only be a toy to you right now, but in ze time of Ultimecia, it iz an imprezzive vorking machine! Capable of manipulating anytheeng you vould ever vant to alter!"

"So, _you're_ the cause of _all_ this shit!" Squall shouted, reaching for his gunblade.

Laguna stopped him.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" Squall demanded.

"It's already been done," the President said.

"Yeah, but still-!"

"What would be the point in killing him, when the situation is already in play?"

For a bumbling fool, Laguna actually made some sense. Squall reluctantly sheathed his sword.

"Hee, hee, hee," Odine giggled. "Zhere is a machine in the future zhat imitates Ellone's powers... and it iz I who created zhat machine!"

"So what happens now?" Rinoa demanded, standing up and startling Angelo. "What happens to me?"

"Zhat is what I'm getting to!"

"No you're not! You're only gloating your own self-worth!"

"Rinoa," Ellone said, soothingly, "he'll get to it. We'll make him get to it, if he won't do it on his own."

Rinoa started to cry a bit as she sat down, and she held her head in her hands.

"Quit your fucking shit, Odine," Squall ordered, "and get on with it."

"Vun last thing..." Odine said timidly.

Squall seethed.

"Ze name of ze machine iz 'Special Junction Ellone'."

Squall raised an eyebrow. "'Special Junction Ellone'?"

"Zhat is correct."

"So Ultimecia came to know Ellone by the name of this machine?"

"And Elle became Ultimecia's target as a result?" Laguna asked.

"Doesn't make any sense," Kiros muttered.

"Of course it makes perfect sense, you fool!" Odine snapped. "Ultimecia desired to know ze true hiztory of the machine! Vhat iz greater do you think? Ze machine vith its limited realm of order or a human being vith ze same capacity as ze machine but vith an unlimited realm in which to seize new ideas and knowledge?"

A look of awareness permeated the entire group.

"Thus, Ultimecia desired to capture little Ellone," Odine concluded. "If you vant to fisticuff over it, meet me outside!"

Squall lunged forward and shoved his fist into Odine's throat.

"Squall!" Cid, Edea and Xu shouted. The President, his aides, and Squall's friends looked on in bemusement.

"Fuck it," Squall said, waving all of them off. "I'll do it again here in a second."

Odine choked and struggled to get to his feet. After splattering blood all over the floor, he finally managed to say, "You...vant to...save Rinoa or not?"

"Of course, if you hurry it up."

Odine grumbled and got to his feet. He spat more blood on the floor and then continued. "There iz only one way to defeat UItimecia. You must kill her in ze future."

"Great Eden," Laguna scoffed.

"Laugh all you vant! There iz nothing you can do unless you go into ze future! Under normal circumstance, it iz impossible to jump into the future like zhat. But zhere is always a way!" He managed to scream that last sentence out, even after being smacked in the throat. "It iz only possible, because Ultimecia has managed to spring her own trap! She iz planning on compressing time to her own vocation."

He looked for a map and saw one and raced to it. "In two spots! One on Tears' Pointe, where coincidentally ze Lunatic Pandora is currently resting- ze obvious choice, I zheenk! A less likely choice would be a somewhat quieter realm where the great guardian of Hyne, Odin, lies."

"Odin?" Squall asked.

"He iz a guardian master of ze underworld, a land ruled by Hyne himself. I wager ze entrance iz in the Centran lands."

"So... what then?"

"Vhat good would it do to compress time, eh? Very good question! There are more than likely numerous reasons why, but zhey are unimportant at ze moment!"

"Unimportant!" Laguna shouted.

"You don't know, do you?" Squall asked.

"Of course not!" Odine snapped, jumping up and down like an insane leprachaun. "Ze point iz to worry about Ultimecia. In order to exist in zhees time, Ultimecia needs to usurp ze body of a known Sorceress on zhis earth. Too bad for her, though, ze machine has a limit, so Ultimecia needs a guide to take her further into time." He pointed to Ellone. "Zhat's where she comes into place. Ultimecia knows Ellone can take people back in time. So, Ultimecia now has a choice.

"Zhere are two sorceresses of our time now: Rinoa and Adel. Ultimecia has some experience vith Rinoa out in space, but she also knows that a catalyst, which means you Squall, is inflitrating her plans. Zherefore, she has utilized a puppet in ze form of Seifer Almasy to protect a more powerful Sorceress, Adel, within the Lunatic Pandora. But it seems that ze Almasy character might be a bit unstable-"

"-tch, tell me about it," Zell interrupted.

"-so now I fear Ultimecia is timing the situation. If ze events in the Pandora do not go according to her favor, then she vill definitely call on Odin to make matters go her way."

"How will that work?" Squall asked.

"Odin will kill all of you and zhen imprison Rinoa in his castle so zhat Ultimecia can then come and usurp her body and take control over ze entire vorld. It eez a long shot, but first we must forestall ze inevitable battle and then subdue once and for all ze Sorceress Adel, who is surely growing stronger by ze day!"

Odine cracked his back. He was old after all. "One thing to keep in mind. Adel has alway been a stubborn woman. It iz quite possible she might disobey Ultimecia and begin to act on her own. She already tried zhat when she came back down to earth. She was not strong enough to make a flight around ze Pandora, but she did it anyvay. Her strength was sapped, but now she iz recovering. Ve must be very careful.

"Here's ze plan in rough shot order: Fortify ze city. Attack ze hordes of minions at her disposal. Assault ze Lunatic Pandora and kill Sorceress Adel before Ultimecia has a chance to transfuse with Adel. Vith Rinoa as ze only Sorceress of our time, have Ellone start ze manipulation process. Vait for Ultimecia to possess Rinoa. When she comes, have Ellone send Rinoa back into ze past vith Ultimecia through ze channels of another Sorceress Elle knew in ze past: Adel or Edea, whichever of her choosing. Ultimecia vill know ze jig is up and then start her time compression act, some influence vill happen in our lifetime. Once Ellone feels the influence, she vill sever the ties between Rinoa and Ultimecia and send them back to their respective times, however through ze time compression and Elle's own time manipulation you fighers will move in the mesh. Past, present and future vill gel together and become one. Fight together, stay together and act as vun until you get to ze era of Ultimecia. Once zhere, kill her and then come back together at a fixed point of your choosing.

"Backup plan: If Ultimecia does not commence vith ze Adel process, approach the Centran ruins where Odin awaits. Challenge him and defeat him. Start the process vith Ellone. Zhat is ze plan."

A thick resonance hung in the air, and each of them were silent for a long while.

Finally, Laguna started. "Well, then. It is time to call upon the people and tell them-"

A loud cannon blast smacked into a few buildings outside. Kiros and Ward raced to the nearest window and the others did as well. Angelo pressed his muzzle to the glass and growled down at the scene.

"What the fuck is going on down there?" Zell demanded.

Hundreds of armored convoys with Estharian soldiers decked out in guady Sorceress colors sat on the beds decked out in high-tech garb and gadgetry. Mounted rail guns, laser rifles, and rocket launches hung on tanks, jeeps and armored convertibles. Thousands of foot soldiers crowded every street, and economic business was shut down for a fifth time throughout the city.

Muffled screams shouted out in the hallway and then were ceased. The doors slid open, and the group's collective expression soured immensely.

Seifer Almasy strode in first, followed by Raijin, Fujin, Premier Whigham, several high-ranking officers of each of their battle squadrons and numerous guards who were former soldiers of President Laguna's army.

Mila, Selphie and Rinoa both restrained their men who made sharp lunges for their weapons. Quistis had to restrain herself, as did Xu. The older adults just looked on in quiet somber. Odine didn't register any particular expression.

Seifer cracked his neck in all kinds of ways before signalled his entourage to halt. He stepped into the mix of seething expressions of his former friends and began shaking his head. "Well, I'm glad you're all here anyway."

"Let me at him..." Zell muttered, and Mila had to use all her strength to hold him back.

"Let go of him," Seifer ordered her. "If he wants to die..." Seifer held up his right hand and released a green pulsating brew off his palm. "...then let him feel the wrath of Sorceress Adel through my channel."

Zell stopped fidgeting, after feeling an intense heat billow up in his chest. He grunted and pulled back his fighting stance.

"That's right, Chickenwuss. You bow down before me pretty good."

"...tch... bastard..." the brawler managed to say.

"What are you here for?" Squall grunted, his words hard to make.

"I can see you are formulating a plan to attack us."

"That's part of it."

"It'll never happen," Whigham declared deliciously. "Not with what we have to excavate."

"Excavate?" Laguna asked.

"Yes, Mr. President," Seifer snickered. "There's an immense treasure hidden beneath your city. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you all installed a power reactor from the Lunatic Pandora did you not?"

"Yesh!" Odine clamored, jumping up and down again. "Ve most certainly did! And you are not going to do anything about it!"

Seifer chuckled. "I don't care about your power reactor. Your power reactor has attracted numerous creatures down there that has fed off of it and grown stronger. We know this, because some of those things attacked Adel's minions one night ago."

"Then, what are you-?"

"Precisely, Squall. Allow me to finish. When you silly Estharians stole the nuclear component from the Pandora, you took with you the plans to create an Ultima Weapon along with it."

Laguna's face stiffened.

"That's right," Seifer laughed, his chuckles turning eerier by the minute, "you know _exactly_ of what I speak."

Squall and the others looked at Laguna. Even Edea and Cid were confused by this new information. Odine was babbling incoherently.

"The Ultima Weapon," Seifer said with some sick nostalgia, " is designed to be a weapon of the gods. It holds the famous Buster Sword in its right arm and a ball of flaming Ultima in its left. Its legs are as powerful as a lion's, and its chest is that of a man's, and its head is that of a bull's. It is made of pure titanium, but now it sits within the Pandora a hardened shell of a waste now. The blueprints and DNA are buried beneath the city, and now Squall, it shall be _your_ job to excavate it."

"_My_ job?" Squall asked, baffled.

"That's right."

"Wh-Wh-Why my job?"

"Because you have fucked me over one too many times. So... you shall be going down there and finding me the blueprints."

"I don't even know what they look like."

"No need to worry, since I'll be joining you. It'll be just us two, like old times once again." He broke into another lecherous laugh.

"Now wait just a minute here-" Laguna interjected.

"No," Seifer said sincerely, his voice carrying so much power and resonance that they were all caught off guard. "_You_ will not be able to do anything at all. Your city will be under seige while we excavate. There are twelve Iron Giants surrounding the city, and every single military personnel that defected from your steed is under my command and poised to burn down your city if even one protester speaks."

If a pin dropped in the room, the sound would have been deafening.

"Come now, Squall," Seifer chastised, "the sooner you get your ass down there, the sooner we'll leave the city."

Squall let out a deep sigh and caught everybody's worried look, including Rinoa's which was deeper than all of theirs put together.

"That's it?" Squall asked Seifer after a heavy pause. "You're just getting this Weapon?"

"You've one-upped me with Cid's addition here, Squall. Now is my turn to one-up you."

"You're playing a fool's game, here."

"Not for long."

Squall sighed again, looked back at his friends one last time and then followed Seifer down to the entrance of the underground village.


	38. Labyrinth

**Author's Note:** Delays have been to formulating a proper outline for the conclusion to Final Fantasy Eight. As the actual game highlights some fascinating topics and leaves gaping holes open in others, especially in the 4th disc, this chapter and the next six ones will be almost completely AU. After that a final six more chapters are due for your reading pleasure.

Until then, happy readings. ACJ

**Disclaimer: **Part of this chapter contains direct and indirect references to some themes in Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater. All rights to that goes to Konami, and I hold no stock or sway in that regard. Out of that game came a very interesting, albeit strange, scenario that was always fun to play through- and I think it enhances Squall's story out quite a bit more than the game offered anyway.

LABYRINTH

The entire Presidential Palace was swarmed with defected Estharian units, as well as the surrounding streets down below, and all personnel were clad in the bright and gaudy attire of the Pandora unit.

Squall studied all the faces surrounding him as he walked warily after his rival. The expressions on the military personnel were strained and rigid. Outside the palace, business was attempting to revert back to normalcy for the umpteenth time, and a lot of tension hung thick in the air. The expression on Seifer's face was too ambigous for Squall to make out; it seemed as if his old rival had finally lost his senses.

"Seifer, this is beyond preposterous."

The Knight stopped abruptly and wheeled on him.

"I demand that you stop this at once," Squall tersely ordered.

"None of your demands will ever be met. There is a prize of great importance down there for me, and there is nothing you can do to stop me from retrieving it."

Squall looked around them, at the guards, and then once they arrived at the waypoint to the underground chambers the mechanics ordered to retrieve this "Ultima" Weapon. "They're all under a bad influence, aren't they?"

"I guess you'll just have to save them, then, eh?" Seifer said haughtily.

"I won't do this!" Squall demanded, stopping short of the entrance. It was the ground level of the Palace, near the back end of the vaulting room. A hatch was embedded in the floor with intricate markings on the side.

"Seifer, please!" yelled Rinoa, as she pushed people aside running down to meet them. Her eyes were glaring towards him for the things that he had done to her, but her heart still ached to restore him to his proper place. "Fight off Ultimecia's influence on you!"

"Influence?" he asked, puzzled. "I prefer to call it an aid for her."

"I don't give a damn what you call it," she snapped back, "she's poisoned you! And you're _letting_ it happen!"

"If that's true," came Zell's voice as he pushed aside people as well," then I'll _actually_ feel bad about kicking your ass!"

Quistis, Milena, Selphie and Irvine finally made it down next to them, and President Laguna stayed near the back and watched the scene unfold. There were roughly a thousand people of all stripes all crammed in around the hatch vicinity, watching the procedure take place.

Seifer sighed irritatedly and jerked his finger at Raijin and Fujin. "Dispel this crowd, and _you!_" he shouted, pointing his finger at Laguna, "get one of your pricks over here to open this hatch!"

Raijin and Fujin looked equally as grim-faced as Laguna, and all three hesitated at first before going to do their tasks.

"Raij, Fu," Quistis begged, and they looked at her warily. "Think about what you're doing."

"Yo, Squall said it before, ya know," Raijin replied, "we aint gonna hold back."

"CORRECT," Fujin said, reluctantly.

"You all wait here," Squall said to his friends, receiving stern and shocked looks back. "I mean it. I don't know what's down there anymore than you all do...but.. keep your cool. Do you hear me?" He directed that more at Zell, but he addressed the whole group.

"...Right, Commander," Irvine muttered.

The others did the same, but Rinoa didn't say anything.

A nameless engineer pried open the hatch, and Seifer ordered the mechanics down first and then turned and winked at Squall and hopped down himself.

Squall gave Rinoa one last look and then stood at the edge of the hole. Laguna came over and put a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Watch out for the Mark."

"What's the Mark?"

"The viziers over in Dagobas believe Bahamut resides here. The Mark is a symbol, a brand actually, if you kill it."

"Do you believe that shit?"

"You recall from Ellone's dream sequences, right? I don't hold stock in those beliefs. However, if you all can call up Guardian Forces to aid you in battle or support magic, then I'm not so sure my standing is correct."

"Meaning?"

"Just be careful down there. There's a lot I want to talk to you about after this all blows over."

Taken aback, Squall was about to say something, but the President turned away and slowly walked back into the crowd.

"Come on! Get your ass moving!" Seifer yelled from below.

Squall heaved a sigh, grasped the hatch and closed it behind him as he fell into the abyss.

* * *

Humidity soaked the chamber, and he was forced to remove his leather jacket. Placing it near the spot where he landed, he forced his eyes to grow accustomed to the harsh lantern light stuck in the walls of the chamber room. The four befuddled mechanics took positions at several units of machinery placed alongside the rightmost wall and made their observations. The machines were reading pressure gauges and timing belts. Several meters were reading several diagnostic instruments.

Footsteps occurred to his left, and Squall turned to see Seifer approaching. He had taken off his trenchcoat as well, and he wiped sweat off his forehead.

"This area is an underground testing facility. It was used by Doctor Odine and his crew to implement his fiendish agricultural policy... along with several other things."

"Like what?"

"...Experimentation," Seifer said listlessly.

One of the mechanics operated a switch, and somewhere down below a massive grating cog grinded away releasing steam and a high-pitched whistle.

"Adel told me," Seifer began again after a long pause, "that the Weapon was hidden several hundred meters below our present position." He looked at Squall sincerely. "I have no idea what is down here, though, to come and greet us."

"Wouldn't the Estharians have known what is down here?"

"They only stayed in this workshop area. From looking at the plans, there are at least five levels to this facility, and the bottom one stretches for miles and encompasses the main power vacuum for the rich mineral flavor this continent possesses."

"...So there could be monsters down here?"

"Are you wetting your panties right now?"

"Everything on me right now is wet, so I guess those are, too."

Seifer looked at his fingers and flicked off gobs of sweat that had collected on them. The air was quite difficult to breathe, and he wasted no time in handing Squall a respirator device and equipping one himself. His voice was nasally, due to the crude ring inserted into his nose, when he spoke, "Put that on. It has a limited lifespan of about an hour. Should be enough time to get in and get out, right?"

Squall nodded and shoved it in. Instantly, he felt more relaxed in his environment as fresh oxygen circulated throughout his bloodstream.

"Come on, Squall," Seifer demanded heading towards the back, "don't dawdle back there now."

The workshop's chamber opened into a narrow corridor too small to travel two abreast. Exposed rusted pipes could be seen from the dim strip of lighting running down the ceiling to some darkened fixed point in the distance. The light on the strip was damaged in some places, so there was infrequent patches of light to see where you stepped into. Seifer stopped his movement, reached into his pocket and fastened a small flashlight module on the hilt of his gunblade and unsheathed it out in front of him. Both of them sensed that their surroundings were much bleaker than they had hoped.

"The place is in much disrepair," Squall noted, mostly in an unflattering mood.

The floor was stained in several colors of brown and green, and a stench like rotting meat traced from some of them. Several panels in the ceiling were missing, and water from several sewer pipes above them was leaking onto the floorboards and walls. A hissing sound was further down, and the light from Seifer's blade came across a busted pipe spraying steam in a crooked fashion and charring the wall beneath it. They did their best to avoid the main spray, but the heat and for several seconds the actual steam burnt their arms and stomach for a time.

The corridor turned sharply right, went aways straight, and then turned sharply left. The rotting stench enveloped them greater, and the small prick of light caught something in the darkened distance. The ceiling strip of light had entirely faded, and all that was to guide them was a thin cone of white flashlight. Squall got out his gunblade, just in case. Seifer edged closer over the bulky object lying on the floor and shone it clearer.

A creature that looked similar to a warthog that roamed the forests of Trabia was half-eaten and decaying on the floorboards with a trail of ants and spiders cleaning out the insides. Bloodstains drifted further down the corridor.

"The fuck? Did they use this as bait or something?" Seifer asked.

Squall tried to bat the smell away. "Your guess is as good as mine."

They stood dumbly there for a while and then slowly stepped over the carcass. The trail of blood snaked around another three sharp turns of the corridor and then finally to a gigantic hole in the wall.

"Take a look at that," Seifer cooed sickly at the scene. A severed limb from the hog had been strewn against the edge of the wall and the floor and now lay in the center of a thick of pool of blackened-red blood. Something that looked like an exploded bomb char had destroyed a large part of the wall and ruined the elevator shaft to the second floor. Chunks of metal and concrete were strewn across the wider end of the corridor-chamber, and the smell of death and decay was heavy. An overgrown tree vine, however, caught their attention as Seifer shone his light all across the gaping hole. Squall edged past him and strayed closer to the opening.

He peered down the dark hole in vain, and then looked back at Seifer. Fishing in his pants pocket, he pulled out a fire gem and said, "Don't try any funny business like pushing me down this hole."

"Of course not, princess," he smirked.

Squall gripped the gem tightly and infused the magic within and dropped the gem down the shaft.

"You're wasting Magic?" Seifer asked.

"It's just a Fire spell, the basic kind."

The gem dropped a good ways, lighting up the entire shaft, before falling a tiny pinprick down on what looked like solid ground. The tree vine went all the way down with it.

"The vine looks like the only way down."

"Forced coworkers first," Seifer grinned, prodding Squall with his sword.

A tiny bit of fear constricted him as he touched the vine. Something about this didn't seem right to Squall's view. The humidity seemed rank coming up from down there, and the half-eaten pig back there was still gnawing at his mind. Nevertheless, Seifer was growing impatient. The two of them slowly worked their way down the vine. The texture of the green-colored "rope" was itchy to the touch and smelled like cheap pinecone air freshener.

The flashlight proved useless as they entered the vicinity of the second floor. A natural blue lighting from Esthar's luminescent soil texture suddenly encapsulated their arrival. Underground plant life mixed with the machinery of ages-of-old Estharian technology, brittle and of hardly good use for today's economy. The bloodstains continued down here but dispersed largely from the vine. Both of them kept their swords out at the ready as they dropped off of the vine and onto the platform. Squall found his Fire gem, but chucked it away as the gem had been all used up.

More steam engines were planted here, and they ran at five-sixths capacity. Their cables filtered each running sediment, enhancing the earth's blue hue and enriching the plant life underneath the metropolis. If Laguna knew how much Odine had utilized his agriculture scheme, there would be plenty of heads rolling around here.

The second floor was basically a large dias with nothing but machinery encircling a large steam vat that periodically blew out a puff of silver smoke in infrequent intervals that coated the earth with a green, musky hue. Supposedly, this enhanced the mineral content of the soil and helped grow the abundance of fruits and vegetables up in the market areas. The elevator over on the northern side just past the vine outcropping was busted apart, as if someone did not want it put in use. Access to the lower floors was essentially cut off from here.

"What now?" Squall asked.

"Gotta be a way down," Seifer said, staring all across the dais. "A switch or something. Something that lowers a secret opening, or gate thing."

"Searching in vain, huh?" Squall walked over to the large vat. _Zell or Irvine would be great to have along now as engineer-minded types_, he said depressingly.

"Just shut up and look for something!" Seifer cursed madly. He then sighed in agitation. "Leave it to these damn greenies for making this shit so complicated!"

Squall only smiled and shook his head. He studied what looked like a control panel in front of the main unit on the steam vat. "You know," he remarked slyly, "for a Sorceress's Knight, you sure are a whiny bitch sometimes."

"If I don't tell you to speak, then you remain a silent one, got it?"

"Or what? If you kill me, you'll never this get weapon of yours."

"I don't need your voice to get that weapon, though."

Squall grunted. "... I guess that'll work."

"Damn right it will. Now FIND SOMETHING!"

"I think I did."

"What?" Seifer waddled his way over to him and peered over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"This panel here," Squall said pointing to the small box that looked way outdated and rusted, "is hooked up to a terminal separate from this vat here. I think..." He looked behind them along the dais and followed a yellow line across the floor that ended up in a small rectangle nearby. "I think this box will open a hole for us down to the third. This may be still functional."

"Well... function it."

Squall studied the panel some more and then fiddled some knobs. _Just like operating the Garden for the first time_, he thought.

More fiddling on the panel emitted a small chit off the side. He read the paper:

_Loaded steam pressure at 200 ppm (parts per million)_

_ Vertical column- kinetic energy 2850 AMPs_

_ Tower Level #6 successfully connected to underground Ruin on Grid Five._

_ Due to Vertical Column's low steam pressure and elevator shaft fallout, it will be difficult to access a path to lower levels. _

"Well, shit," Seifer frowned, "that's just great."

"Hold on, another one just popped out."

_Tower Level #6 contains several spigots on its side containing mass quantity energy units, or QEUs, that if properly combined and rotated can lower the successive lower levels to access the Ruin._

_ Currently: Grid Five- Reserved Steam Pressure- 200 ppm, 20 QEUs_

_ Depending on the energy amount, Grid Three and Four will alter slightly with changes in QEU stability. Expect alterations to have an effect on the environment._

_ Use caution._

"Caution?" Squall asked. "What's down here?"

"Your mother's ashes maybe, who know?" Seifer said, appallingly, "Come on, let's get this bitch steamed up."

Squall never knew his mother, but for some reason that comment unnerved him and he stood looking at Seifer's departing form with every effort to stick his sword through the guy's back. An appalling gesture indeed. It took all his energy to go find the spigots and have a look.

"No hard feelings?" Seifer asked with a grin, as Squall approached him.

Squall gave him a look and then bent down to the spigot box. This shit was a complex mechanism. A fifty-pound steel block with nine spigots protruding out. Five of them looked too rusty to move, but a little elbow grease could put that to shame. The question was: how many spigots would deplete the required amount of QEU to open the second-third floor hatch.

"Just pick any one," Seifer complained.

Squall grunted and shoved one of the unrusted spigots into the contraption. A hot jet of steam burst out above his head and almost singed Seifer to bits had he not leaped backwards onto his ass. The vertical column did a loud whirring sound, and the frothing jet steam made the already cramped room even hotter and more stifling. Squall fished out a Blizzard gem and dried it all up in a vain attempt to extinguish the stream, however it only softened it by about half. With ice shards and steam crystals raining down and blistering over the spigot box and his hands, Squall cursed and wiped the sweat off his face.

"Well..." he breathed angrily, "I aint gonna pick just one random piece of shit, alright?"

"...Right," Seifer muttered.

An idea buzzed in his head. For some reason the yellow strip on the dais popped into his head. There happened to be four yellow spigots on the panel, three of them rusted. The one he had first prodded was a green spigot. If not green, then surely yellow would do the trick. He pushed the clean yellow spigot in, and one QEU was spent. A distinct clicking noise occurred in the vat and somewhere in the area around them a hollow uncoupling sound was heard.

"Help me out here," Squall said licking his fingers and preparing to shove.

"Where?" Seifer asked.

"It's the yellow ones that work."

"How so?"

"The Estharians are doing color-coded machinery down here. Push this yellow one here as hard as you can."

Seifer spat on his hands, rubbed them vigorously together, and got ready to push. On the count of three both of them shoved. Squall slipped in his stance, lost his grip and bruised his chin on the spigot box. Seifer lost his stance but kept a firm grip on his spigot and managed to cut his palm up sliding the spigot in. A second QEU was spent, and more uncoupling sounded. The yellow strip further south of them started to glow and something on the floor clicked twice.

Squall breathed heavily once and forced his spigot in. With the third QEU, the large vat blew a loud whiste and two mechanical arms moved up and down on it and more mechanical sounds on the floor moved. Seifer used the butt of his gunblade to brace the spigot and then jammed his whole body against the panel sending the last yellow one in. A loud clang erupted around them, and the second-third floor hatch opened. More steam was released on the vertical column.

Seifer looked at his bloody hand and relished the stinging pain afflicted him. Squall rubbed gingerly his bruised chin and got off the floor. "Two down, three left?"

"That's right," Seifer replied, "bruised-chin people first."

Squall grunted and led the way down the stairs.

The scenery changed somewhat- more plant life was visible. One giant root of an unknown tree was sprouting up from deep within the earth to connect with the vine on the second floor. When Squall was a cadet at Balamb Garden, years before he took the final SeeD exam, he had chalked up on every story imaginable about Esthar's underground. He now realized the stories didn't go very deep enough to uncover the whole picture. Scant metal walls were almost thoroughly dishevled down on Grid Three, and the badly-kept steam vat in the center of this Grid's dais was the only visible metal object still intact to a degree. Grinding gear ligaments needed oil and grease badly, and various traces of a fire was in evidence to have broken out. It was unclear what could have extinguished the flames.

"You're not scared, are you, Squall?"

He had to think about that for a second. "Why... should I be?"

"Dark place. Cramped conditions. You never know, a monster might jump outta here..."

"I'm sure you'll take care of it, too."

They both looked for another color-coded strip like the second floor had allowed; however, the floor was so badly stained and damaged they couldn't tell if even a hatch existed anywhere on it. Looking over at the steam vat, their hopes seemed more dashed. The spigot box looked busted open, and several of the instruments were compromised. There was a curious object next to it, though.

As Squall bent down to observe the new object that turned out to be a block with some movable numbers on it, Seifer jolted and looked around him. "Did you hear that?" he asked sharply.

"Don't start the bullshit," Squall said without looking at him.

"Dude, you should know when I'm bullshitting."

_He's right._ Squall briefly looked behind him and to the side. Grid Three's lighting was more ethereal than the Second one's. An opaque orangish glow emanated off the earthen walls, mixed with the Estharian metal. The glow was what nourished the soil above them on the Estharian plains. There were most likely large quantities of mineral pockets a few hundred feet below them, radiating this glow.

Gritting his teeth and expecting the worst, Squall turned back to the block with movable type. "This one's hooked up to a code entry along with the quantity energy units."

Seifer just looked around them, a fretful look on his face.

"Five spaces..." Squall mused, looking at the device and then at the spigot box. "Five QEUs, most likely." He took a spigot that had fallen off due to rust. What looked like a "P" was on the head, but the neck had a green line. He picked up another one that had a yellow line and noted the head said "O". "I'm gonna guess yellow's still the thing-"

"-Well guess already and hurry the fuck up!" Seifer snapped, jerking his head to the right at a sound he thought he heard again.

_Scaredy-cat_, Squall laughed inside his head. He proceeded to find four more yellow spigots to match with the "O", but he frowned intensely when seven of the twelve spigots in the box were stuck inside their slots and the other five's colored lines were barely readable under all their grime. The humidity pulsating around him was starting to make him nauseous, as well. Angered, he grabbed the box and shook violently until his limbs hurt. First one, then another, then three, then another fell out. Two of them looked yellow and he hastened to ply them off. An "I" and an "E". He practically pinched his fingers bloody jarring the last stuck spigot out, and he let out a strained "Fuck" when he noticed it was green.

A howling cackle disturbed the silence, and Seifer stumbled backwards at the noise. A gangly creature with elongated arms, two heads and crumbling black skin gargled and snarled and moaned. It leapt off an overturned compressing machine in the back of the room and stormed over to them, pieces of rotted flesh falling to the floor and yellowish grimy blood dripping from its maw. Seifer composed himself and swung mightily as the creature neared, cleaving its torso straight off and hurling the flailing body part into the wall. The legs continued to move for about three paces before snapping like a twig across the stained floor.

Squall was frozen in his position looking at Seifer who looked at him with the same beleagured expression. They could hear the same cackling sounds somewhere in the distance. The ambience was so poor that they couldn't tell if it was above, below or to the side of them.

Seifer indicated an expression of impatience, and Squall nodded. "I just need two more. Help me with this grime."

The cackling died down and then started again somewhere new, along with something that sounded wet and slippery. Squall made one of his fingernails green in color from the grime and found a yellow under an "N" spigot head, and Seifer found a "D".

"What the fuck is this password?" he asked.

"O, I, E, N, D," Squall read. He held his forehead and shook his head. "I hate fucking anagrams."

"Anagrams, huh?" Seifer bent over past him and rearranged some letters. "What's that scientist guy's name? You know, that goofy prick with a hardened lisp to his voice?"

"...Odine?"

Seifer made that name into those letters. "Try it."

One by one, Squall fit the letters in, and an orange liquid formed suddenly behind the block and empowered the steam vat. An infuriating sound pierced both their ears and drove them to their backs on the floor, but the steam vat churned along with it, and five more QEUs were spent. Something mechanical stirred behind them, and the third-fourth floor hatch opened.

And out came a substantial number of the very same type of creature that had attacked earlier.

"Ho-ly shit," Seifer said, befuddled and he clumsily got himself up, and a swarm of a dozen blackened creatures made a beeline for him.

Squall couldn't get up in time, as one soared into the air and landed with spidery arms on top of him. A nasty pink tongue curled out and attempted to burn part of his face. The grip of the creature was surprisingly hard and acrid, but Squall managed to jerk free and his movement snapped the creature's limb like a rotted tree branch. The creature howled in his ear and made him slightly deaf, but the Punishment gunblade snaked out and slashed the creature up three times.

"What are these fucks!" Seifer managed to scream, as he slashed bodies repeatedly apart while being driven back by the ferocious onslaught. The creatures's gangly extremities were brimming in acid, or what looked like it anyway, and constant streams of searing liquid flailed against him.

"...Beats me," Squall muttered, shifting a shell into his chamber and blowing back three at the same time.

More creatures popped out snarling, and a new sound followed them. A silver spectral creature shot out of the hatch, and its sucker-like limbs grasped the ceiling in a sticky goo. With the agility of a spider, it crawled all over the ceiling and belched out a toxic goo. The two gunbladers, horrified, received several scalding wounds as they rushed to hide around the steam vat. The new, deadlier creature zigzagged all across the ceiling, scaled down the vat and drop-kicked Squall in the chest flinging him to the side. It landed hard on the floor and smacked Seifer in the chin. The Knight stood his ground and slashed the creature's chest, stumbling it back a foot before it whirled around again and kicked him into the air. Seifer bruised his tailbone on the landing and dropped his gunblade, and the creature pounced. Its hide wasn't as acidic as the blackened creatures, but its hands were like pincers and Seifer desperately fought to keep them from slashing his face.

Several of the blackened creatures left standing dumbly watched the two fight, but a couple noticed too late the second gunblader getting up, spitting blood out on the floor and then charging straight toward the group. With a flurry of swipes, Squall decapitated the entire throng of blackened wretcheds and then impaled the silver creature and plucked it off the fighting Knight. The creature's body contorted around the gunblade at first, but it soon dissolved once flung into a silvery pile of goo next to the steam vat.

For a moment the third grid floor was silent, but the air was thick with a noxious blood, and both of them could feel the capacity of their small oxygen nose valves depleting a bit faster than normal.

"Haven't got much time," Seifer seethed, forcefully getting up and looking mighty pissed. "Figures that Odine bastard to be doing prolonged experiments down here. He probably siphoned these creatures from the prison south of the city and used them to create a fragmented form of what _I'm _doing right now."

"What _you're_ doing?"

"Oh, you'll see... soon enough."

"You know..." Squall said, breathing heavily, "we can end this nonsense right now."

"True that," Seifer concurred, jumping to the side and pointing his gunblade in a deadly arc at Squall's face. "What do you think of this?"

Squall merely looked down the blade to the gunchamber. "Seifer, I've kicked your ass twice in a matter of months."

"That was then..." A luminescent greenish glow suddenly highlighted his skin briefly, but it was enough to change the atmosphere of the room. Squall thought he heard a overpowering pulsating rhythm affect his ears. "_This_ is now," Seifer said lecherously.

"What's now?"

"Whenever she talks to me, I feel the sensation. I feel the power!"

"Ultimecia?"

Seifer brought back Hyperion to his scabbard and ran over to the demolished hatchway. "Come, Squall! You are wasting valuable time!"

"Oh, hell no. I'm not through with you yet," he answered, running after him.

Seifer jumped down three steps and was relieved that the dais area looked empty... for the moment. "Of course, Squall, of course." He grinned at the sight around him and stormed into the main vicinity.

Squall hit the steps and felt a sudden pressure on his chest.

_Be careful..._

"What?" Squall asked, almost tripping on the steps.

Seifer looked at him.

"Did you say 'be careful'?" Squall asked.

"Uhhhh... no. I think in the floor above us, it was a little too late for that." Seifer raised an eyebrow. "Quit freaking out over there and come work this last steam vat."

Squall felt his chest, but the pain was gone. The voice, however, seemed to echo inside his head. Or maybe he was just hallucinating- it had started to grown hotter down on this floor. He shrugged it off, leapt off the steps and went to observe the vat. Nothing seemed to be working down on this level. The turbines were thoroughly discarded, and the spigot box was blackened and useless. The whole vertical column was a shell of its former self, which was probably why the upper tiers of the column were malfunctioning so frequently.

"There is nothing we can do to this thing," Squall said dismayed.

_There is always another way..._

Squall jerked his head to the side. "Who is speaking to me?" he said.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Seifer asked.

The pressure was back, but not inside him. Something around the dais was creating a kind of vacuum. "I.. don't-"

"I don't know either, Squall, now come on. Let's pry this hatch open ourselves."

"With what?"

Seifer brought up Hyperion, went over to where the hatch was and then stuck it through the cracks. "Stick yours into the other side."

A fleeting thought of him breaking his sword by doing that crossed Squall's mind, but he hastened away from the destroyed vat and stuck his sword in. They spent several tiring minutes making little headway beyond scraping the floor with the granite hatch. It made little dents upward three times before collapsing back down.

Seifer brought his sword out and clanged it against the floor. "Shit, this sucks."

Squall brought his out slowly and just set it against the floor. "You don't need this weapon, Seifer. Just give this whole thing up and help us fight Ultimecia once and for all."

"I am afraid I cannot do that, Squall," Seifer said gloomily sitting down near the hatch.

"Why not? Why all this fuss? Why ruin people across the world over?"

"Well... it's impossible for me to do that even if I wanted to. I have a bounty on my head in all four continents, plus our little Alcauld Island. If I was to _give up_ my pride and joy, as _you_ suggest, then I would be forced to be executed for... heh.. crimes against humanity."

"So, you're saying you actually want to do that?"

"I'm not saying that."

"Well, I'm sure we all can discard some certain punishments in return for your acquiescence."

"Forget it, Squall, nothing doing."

Squall watched his rival's movements- stilted, leeway, confused. There was a certain jerk of the jawline that told him everything he wanted to know.

"Life has changed a lot since we were kids in that orphanage, huh?" Squall said slowly, his mind rushing back to those days. Those days of him standing out on the front porch in the rain... calling for 'Sis'.

Seifer pursed his lips but didn't respond.

"There was a time, I remember, when you weren't so heady. Where you actually cared a little bit about the people around you. Along with Ellone, you and Quistis were the oldest ones there, and you three helped Matron and Cid out with all that needed to be done. We were there until our nine or ten years of age, before we all separated. It was strange to be reunited again after so much hassle."

Seifer scratched his forehead and seemed to get fidgety.

"I remember how I left the orphanage, but how did you leave it?"

Seifer jerked his head up. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Aha, struck a nerve."

"No, I just don't want to talk about it."

"I don't remember much of my orphanage life, except some strong communal experiences with Zell, Selphie, Irvine, Quistis and you."

"That's cuz you were living in a blur," Seifer said irritably.

Squall looked away, and both of them made an uncomfortable silence.

"I found out about her when I was eight," Seifer muttered under his breath. Feeling Squall's gaze on him, he sighed and continued, "Esthar made two attacks on Edea, the second one you remember I guess because you hid in the garden. I was out and about near the Lighthouse at the time of the first one, when the Estharian corvettes came sneaking around one of Centra's purple-fingered peninsulas.

"It was a slow, steady buildup and they came pouring out of the nearby forests and through Matron's burgeoning flower beds. All of the kids there at that orphanage were asleep besides me, because I felt like wading around the waters over there that night. They swarmed the front lawn, but Matron just took one look and turned the whole frontline to stone and then with a snap of her finger rocketed that line of granite into the second line, killing them instantly. The third stopped where they were and demanded her presence to be shown. She, however, destroyed them all with an incredible lightning blast.

"I watched all that with great fear and curiousity, and she knew that I had seen what she had done. After she had calmed all of you kids down a bit and had told Ellone to keep a careful eye out while she was away, she corralled me and told me to leave. Told me to find a better place to bide my time with. It was a warning, Squall, but she eventually warmed up to me enough for me to be her Knight. "

"The... start of your romantic dream?" Squall asked.

"You could say that. I was entranced by what I saw, no doubt about that. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Well, I left the place with the help of the Centran Coast Guard and wound up in Galbadia. I caught the train to Timber and then eventually to Balamb. It was a chance meeting with the familiar face of Cid that caused me to join Garden, and there I met you, Zell and Quistis. I remembered you all plain as day, but you three had for some reason forgotten who I was, you filthy fuckers."

Squall laughed. "I was a little too traumatized by the recent experiences, plus I near about shit my pants at the sight of Balamb Garden for the first time."

Seifer slowly nodded his head. He recalled his first appearance at the Garden and how large and voluminous it had looked to him as well. "Well... since I couldn't count on recollections with you three... and I had neither the patience to initiate it... I resorted to harvesting the ripe moment to fulfill my romantic dream. It was only fate it seems that it coincided with your rise to Balamb Garden Commander status."

A brief warbling noise halted their conversation, and they looked up to see the lights dimming furiously.

"I hate to break up this peaceful interlude..." Seifer said sarcastically.

"Just when we were getting comfortable," Squall added with his own crass sarcarsm.

The hatchway burst to pieces, and a monstrous three-headed burgundy-colored dog (or they _thought_ it looked like a dog) pounced onto the grid's floor, followed by a swarm of silver spectral creatures. Seifer rolled over on his back, spun off the balls of his feet in a sick arc and fired off two rounds from his gunblade into the hide of the Tri-Face pooch before systematically decapitating two of the spectral creatures. Squall conjured up a Firaga spell and incinerated three of the spectrals, burned a limb off the Tri-Face and proceeded to hack his way through the spectral swarm receiving weird sensational hits from their limbs. The Commander could feel the intense pressures from earlier hit him hard again. Their was that strange voice again humming in the back of his head, and he was getting damn near pissed at it purvayence.

Three more Tri-Faces swarmed out of the hole that used to be the hatchway, after the first one died with Seifer's blade down its spine. The Knight lunged toward them in a crazy fit, impaling one and sailing down the hole to the fifth and final floor with the Tri-Face screaming bloody murder. Squall was assailed left and right and thrown down twice by one Tri-Face, whose fanatical bite clamped down on his right shoulder and tore heavily. He beat a free snout on the beast with solid force, before the teeth let go and he gutted the monster up the middle. A spectral creature showered him in yellow goo that had an electrical spark in it and caused him great pain. Squall somersaulted backwards and frosted the whole crowd in a giant Blizzaga spell. With the fourth floor covered in various shades of flesh and bone, Squall managed to creep his way bloodied and fatigued to the gaping hole, where Seifer had downed the third Tri-Face and was cornered by the fourth in a strange but mesmerizing grotto.

"Will you get your fucking ass down here!" Seifer yelled at him, taking a sharp pain in his back from the Tri-Face's maw.

Squall found an Ultima gem in his pocket, surged the requirements in his brain and melted the monster down below in a great ball of pounding energy. The sway of the heavy magic stumbled him, and Squall fell onto the steps and rolled painfully down to the wet earth. He was amazed at the landscape of this new floor they had painfully stumbled onto, but the hurt in his body was too great and he was appalled to find only one Cure magic gem in his possession- the weakest of the healing magics- and he gloomily applied it to himself, feeling only a tiny relief hit his mangled shoulder.

"God damn it, Squall. We'll die down here due to your incompetence."

"_My_ incompetence?" Squall grunted hard as he moved to a kneeling position and then eventually to a standing position. He took in the grotto Seifer was wading out of, as the first feature of the new underground Esthar. There was wet and rich earth underneath his feet, packed with mushrooms and minerals brightly glowing against the darkness of the chamber. The gaping hole in the half-concrete, half-earthen ceiling was about a hundred feet above them, and the expanse around them could hardly be calculated as there was almost no light to guide them save for the intermittent buzzings of fireflies and lighted katydids. "You're... the one who led us down here."

"Yeah... and we haven't much time before our oxygen packets freeze up on us." He reached Squall and jammed the butt of his gunblade at him. "Get a going. Follow the dancing fireflies."

"Why?"

"Adel says they lead to an excavation site. The Weapon's down there."

"Fucking shit," Squall muttered and sorely walked his way across the earth.

The earth gradually changed to stone, and their eyes grew accustomed to an ethereal blue light that granted them a vision of a large runic stone tablet. A great man, in kingly robes, was carved in its granite side with marble etched in the finer features. Rubies and emeralds edged the frame of the tablet, and as their eyes trained down the line of sight, the stone path they were now walking on was soon lined on both sides with the same stone tablets going all the way down to the very end. Each of the tablets were of different depictions, and each seemed to signify a different event or time period in the succeeding Ages of Man who had dominated this Estharian continent. All of them seemed to have one theme in common: birth, life, death, rebirth.

Pictures of Eden and Hyne hung together in a strange symbiosis, and tablets of all the other Guardian Forces hung as well for them to view. They were clearly walking among the ruins of a Druid society, and they figured they were underneath the Dagobas borough.

Squall's foot landed on something crunchy, and a firefly loomed overhead revealing his foot had stepped on a skull. The bone had cracked with ease and yellow dust collected on the first step of a spiralling staircase that branched out in a strange maze-like expanse. He couldn't tell which one led directly down.

_The path to the left is always right, but the path to the right is always left_, came the voice again.

"What the fuck?" Squall muttered.

"Yes.. exactly what I was going to say..." Seifer said, prodding him again. "You've got an idea, or do I have to cut you to make you move?"

"We need to go left, I think," Squall said uncertainly, discerning the two paths in front of him with great unease.

Seifer clicked his chamber to the ready.

"You better not do anything," Squall warned, "how many times have I beaten you now?"

"The chamber's still cocked."

Squall angrily sighed and took the left path down. The minutes seemed like hours in that suffocating depth, as they criss-crossed upended paths and broken stone walkways on a generally confusing path down wards to the epicenter of the excavation site. They passed many old relics long forgotten and many skeletons of archaeologists, Druids and grave robbers along the way. Decaying remnants of bestial characters, too, hung drooped in strange, twisted positions along the steps and among the crooked walls and floors.

Soon, the fireflies stopped lighting the way and for several terrified minutes, they proceeded slowly through the dark with hardly anything to hold on to. Seifer had to resort to holding on Squall's bruised shoulder for guidance, and several times they slipped together along the stairs wrecking Squall's pain some more.

Then...

The steps gave way to a plain floor, and the sounds of another grotto reached their ears. Several fireflies returned to light the new expanse, revealing a small room with a vaulting ceiling. The plain floor ended quickly, and a rocky path swooped around a glistening pool and went to a lonely island with one strange and glowing machine sitting atop it.

Seifer immediately grew ecstatic and pushed Squall out of the way. "Hot shit! Here it is!" His breath was growing erratic on account of the oxygen packet beginning to falter. "After some toils and tribulations, I have now at last the solution to all our troubles."

Squall stood where he was and watched the Knight in his exuberant stage. Seifer flipped over the small channel of water and landed onto the island. He examined the machine and was only slightly bothered that it was a steam vat with nozzles on it. "Ten QEUs of steam pressure needed to operate," he mused to himself. He studied the panel some more and then remembered something and played with one of the brightly colored nozzles. A new panel flipped out, and he grinned lecherously. He typed in a few codes and then yanked on a lever on the side of the machine. Somewhere near them, a compressor uploaded and a great thrust of steam billowed out above them. Motors in the water began turning and something opened nearby.

"What is-"

"Be quiet!" Seifer snapped.

Bubbles rose in the water in front of him, and steam floated up from the brink. A slick pedastal with a glistening cube atop it appeared out of the water and rose up to eye-level.

"There it is," Seifer said, breathlessly. "The DNA of the Ultima Weapon."

_A grave danger. A grave danger._

Squall felt immense pressure in his temples, reminding him of Ellone's sending practices. Only this time, there was no buzzing sound, no Laguna flashbacks, just a heavy pounding inside his brain. All the while the voice repeated "grave danger", "grave danger".

Anger flooded him, and he brought the Punishment up and clicked the chamber at the back of Seifer's head. "I am afraid you cannot take that, Seifer. The game ends here."

With agility and speed Squall had never seen before, Seifer snaked his gunarm out to the side and fired a round straight across the top of Squall's gun hand. He dropped his blade and felt the pain bite him hard, completely washing away the pounding inside his head. Seifer about-faced and looked down at him. He glowed now, bright green. He reached behind him, and the Cube levitated and shot into his palm, and he quickly clasped it to his chest. "The game does end here, Squall. This site shall be your grave."

Squall stared wide-eyed at him, as Seifer disappeared in a flash of green light.

He looked around him for any sign of the Knight, but Seifer was gone. "Mother fucker!" Squall yelled at the top of his lungs. He slammed his fist into the ground a la Zell and then immediately curled inward onto the rock. His oxygen packet depleted, and he slowly took in the sweet-sick smell of suffocation.

* * *

"Ooh. He is a tough one, he is."

"What?"

"I didn't think he would take the Sorceress's energy that keenly. That is a very grave sign."

"Who... or what are you?"

"Ah, Squall Leonhart, I am the Sorrow."

"The Sorrow?"

"Yes. I am speaking to you through your mind. You are suffocating right now and moving towards the light as we speak."

"What the-? Send me back! It is not my time to die!"

"Oh really? How so?"

"Of course it's not, I'm too young to go at this point."

"Ha ha ha. That's what they all say. That's what they all say."

"Goddammit! Who the fuck are you? Send me back!"

"_Why_ would you want to go back? You'll be a vegetable if you do. There's no air adequate for you down there, ha ha."

"A pretty sorrowful way to go down, huh?"

"Ah, some sarcasm still left in you. Good job, good job."

"I demand to go back to my present state. I need to get the bastard Seifer and-"

"-And what? Kill him? Just like all those men and monsters you have killed thus far in your short life of seventeen years?"

"...Who are you?"

"I already told you that."

"Sorrow. Yes, yes, I know that, but I should probably say, _what_ are you?"

"What are _you?_"

"I'm a human being."

"Not a prototype?"

"We have those. They're called robots."

"Seems to me you perform exactly like them. Methodical, utility, useless. All SeeDs do. That is why Hyne tries to rid them all from the more graceful things on this earth."

"Are you Hyne?"

"No. I told you already who I am."

"So, you're an agent of his?"

(sigh). "I was told prototypes were baseless. That was an understatement I see."

"Fuck you. Bring me back to life."

"FUCK IS A POWERFUL WORD, SQUALL LEONHART!"

A bright flash of light scorched Squall's vision, and he suddenly saw colors again from the whiteness he had been exposed to. However, he was suspended over a void in which he did not recognize, and an incredibly surreal edge hung over his equilibrium. He knew he was still within the bowels of the excavation site, but his mind was playing horrible tricks on his subconscious. For the moment, his eyes were registering to his brain a gangly-looking creature that resembled something of a man, or a prototype as he kept calling it. A balding, glasses-wearing, black-clad anarexic prototype gesticulating with seizure-like qualities above him with a lecherous grin on his face.

"Are..._you_... the Sorrow?" Squall weakly asked. "The... one who was... contacting me... earlier?"

"Yes, I am. You fight bravely. You do exactly as Eden has programmed you to do. Yet, you have taken Eden's malevolence too far in your approach along with Hyne's dastardly cunning, and you have gone on a killing spree in the last five months of your life. A spree unmatched except by Sorceresses, Mr. Leonhart. You are a danger to yourself and to others."

Squall stared at the ghastly wan figure helplessly. "What are you? A channel for the Guardian Forces?"

"I am the sinew that binds the world together. I am merely a product of the loss of life the Guardian Forces fail to address. I am also a gatekeeper to the undead world, and I determine who is exactly ready to ascend to the next stage of life."

Squall blinked. "Am I... in perdition?"

"There is no such thing as that. Actually, you are merely floating in despair at this moment- a feeling seemingly familiar to you. You exhibit the character of a man who thinks he has found out what he was searching for, and yet he has caused severe pain and trauma for other peoples along the way as he sought to attain that longed-for search."

"Are you... _judging_ me?"

"I believe that's what I meant when I said I determined who exactly was ready to ascend to the next level."

"But you just said I wasn't in perdition. Meaning I'm not really dead."

"If the GFs wanted you dead, then you'd be dead as a doornail inside this tomb underneath Esthar. But two of them at least thought- well one really convinced the other- that you should be given a more closer inspection. The god of despair, Bahamut, has taken a keen interest in you and has persuaded Eden to let you live a little longer."

"...Why? I mean, I'm grateful for that, bu-"

"Grateful, eh?" The Sorrow chuckled. "Grateful enough to ponder the loss of 2, 185 human beings and 7, 884 bestial creatures of this world?"

_Holy shit,_ Squall yelled inside his head. He was at a loss for vocal words, and his bewildered expression prompted more chuckling from the wan apparition in front of him.

"Every thing has a part of this tale of life, Mr. Leonhart. It seems you took it upon yourself over the last nine years of your life to end the lives of all these beings through your SeeD trainings and your combat missions. In some instances, you deliberately found precious time to commit brutal slayings of some of these poor creatures in the most horrific way possible."

"If...If I happened to just kill _one_ being, human or otherwise, by accident would that be grounds to haunt me?"

"Accident? I cannot imagine a situation where it was an _acc-ident_ to you."

The air seemed to grow tight around Squall, and he thought his head was going to explode.

"The world cannot be run safely!" Squall declared. "Human beings and animals of this world are cruel and violent to each other. It is a part of their inner workings, created in no special thanks to the Guardian Forces you serve a bridge to!"

"Really? Can you walk the same path as these fallen spectrals all the way to the end of your bloody tirade? All 10,069 of them, to the very end? Could you make it without falling into disrepair?"

"You're stalling me from destroying the plans of Sorceress Ultimecia!"

"Then it'll be a long walk for you," the Sorrow concluded hideously.

Squall felt his body warm intensely, and his vision blurred to darkness. From his head down to his toes, he felt compressed and squeezed in the most horrible and uncomfortable way. He actually bled out his nose and ears, and he could not stop the pain. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he found himself breathing in water. He jerked his head up, and the cool water was of an icy texture that scarred his face, neck and shoulders. His body numbed to the pain immediately, though, as his eyes took in a surreal sight.

The Sorrow floated with a giggling, jostling pleasure over a length of river that proceeded seemingly into infinity. Squall could not tell where he was in relation to the underground excavation sight. The entire surrounding area was shrouded in an ephemeral light. Hundreds, no thousands, of apparitions slowly waded through the water towards him. Men, women, children, beasts of all shapes and sizes waded towards him- the beings he had slaughtered throughout his life. Their faces were goulish and stricken with the painful, freezed expression of horror at their sudden passing from the earthen life.

"Walk, Commander," the Sorrow ordered, "see how far you can get, or be lost in the river forever."

"Shit," Squall said, and he instinctively reached for his gunblade and found it not there.

"So pitiful," the Sorrow said, shaking his head. "You'll be stuck here forever."

The thought of that unnerved him, but he took a long look at the distorted faces slowly approaching him and he remained where he was for a bit. One of the human spectrals reached him first and extended an arm through his chest. For a brief flashpoint, Squall saw the moment that had been stored in his memory: he was twelve years old at the time.

_You blindly fired off a magical spell and it went horribly wrong_, came the sickly voice of the poor disfigured man in front of him.

Squall remembered it fondly, and he for the first time felt the pain of another's life leave their body through the touch and the contact of this sprite. It was a horrible scorching fireball that had destroyed this man, and Squall was only twelve years old at the time. He looked at the sprite with the most sympathetic and apologetic expression, and the sprite realized that Squall was finally coming around to the test and he vanished along the path.

Squall looked at the other 10, 068 slowly wading their way through the river towards him. His breathing had been erratic, now it was more than steady. He may have been too confident, but he knew what he needed to do. Time wasn't a factor anymore. He was in a land of no time. A land where boundaries never existed, except the walls that he built around himself with the deaths of all of these spectral beings.

So, he lifted one heavy leg up and then the other and proceeded to make the most difficult uphill climb in the water he had ever made, and he made contact with each of the sprites coming up to meet him.

The Sorrow watched with a mixture of fascination and surprise at the Commander's capacity. He transmuted his feelings with that of Squall's and felt every memory Squall made with the spectral beings, and he was more than amazed at how empathetically Squall took to each of them.

It was a great many hour as Squall waded through nearly nine years of activity, from as early as his late orphanage days when he haphazardly squashed Bite Bugs and Funguar creatures in the Centran plains to his first days at Balamb Garden when the Guardians and Headmaster Cid forced him to train to become a SeeD. A great many bestial creatures with feelings Squall never thought they had conformed him among his many plains travels around Alcauld Island and the Montereaseau Plateau in Galbadia. However, some of the more painful memories occurred at two of the most horrific points in his life: the actual SeeD exam in the Dollet Dukedom and the Battle of Lighthouse Pointe. A great mass of 3,000 human and bestial spectrals encircled him- all of these _he_ had slain with his gunblade! The swarm of memories actually drained his stamina, and he landed face-first in the river and nearly drowned in this primordial soup.

The Sorrow groaned. "You were soooo close..." He raised his sinewy hands to the side and emitted a pulsating swirl from his body. A snaky yellow mist swept down to Squall and electrified his body. The terrifying shrills of a screaming man escaped Squall, and he burst out of the water with a shocking convulsion. "YOU CANNOT MAKE IT!" The Sorrow shrieked, laughing hysterically.

The spectrals all around him made concurring groaning sounds.

Squall had gone through almost half of the pack, and his body was wrecked from the toil and the recollection. He was bleeding profusely from the copious contact which had not only sapped his stamina but also his vitality, and he was bleeding through every orifice.

"No-can't-"

"You cannot make it!"

"-quit."

Squall choked up blood in the water and gritted his teeth, sucking the copper down his throat. "Can't... quit."

The Sorrow cocked his head to the side and watched Squall painfully shake himself off and proceeded with a heavy, sludgy foot forward through the brink. The remaining swarm of Lighthouse Pointe fallen enveloped him, and Squall bravely held his own. He relived the sword slicing, fireball-shredding and face-planting nightmares he had inflicted, and he began to think about the repercussions.

What was the point of all the death anyway? He recalled earlier in his life thinking about the wastes of war and then going right back in and causing some more of it. Now... what happens now? After all this torment, would, no could, he go back and do it again? Seifer and Ultimecia were to be dealt with. There would be more of these deaths by his hand.

Then he realized something. He and these spectrals had one thing in common: the bond. The unshakable bond that was a gift of the Guardian Forces. Primarily Eden's. All this time, he had denied the existence and strength of the high Force and what it had done to get him to this very spot. What it had done to make him Commander of such a powerful fleet at such a young age. What it had done to ensure the intense commarderie and fellowship of his friends Quistis, Zell, Selphie and Irvine. What... it had done to win him the trust and love of Rinoa. All of that, with gracious dissent to the ideology of Irvine, was a gift of the hands of fate granted by Eden and all the others. The spectrals reminded him of that blessing, and now with each step he took Squall felt more invigorated and more energized.

The spectrals recognized it, too, and they sped up as well to meet him, and their contact was not as rough as the first sets. Squall made hasty progress then and got through the next six thousand in what seemed like only an hour's time frame back in the earthen world. The Sorrow was most impressed.

Progress was deftly made until a peculiar sight reached Squall at the very end. Nida Williams reappeared.

"What?" Squall managed to say. He did not recall killing Nida, but the original piloteer of Garden continued to have a smiling expression on his face despite the horrible chaingun-riddled visage. He made contact with Squall, and the flashpoint revealed the answer to the problem: Instead of pulling Nida away from an obvious disaster waiting to happen, Squall had let the pilot die in plain view of the Galbadian chainguns.

Despondency hit hard, and Squall sank to his knees. "Oh...fuck..." he whispered, and he felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. "Nida...I am... so sorry."

The apparition put a finger out as if to silence him and slowly shook his head. The Nida sprite reached and touched him again, and Squall was taken to another place where the familiar voice of the pilot told him not to despair- never to despair- for Squall had a good heart underneath the outside angst and put-on solidarity. Other people stronger than Nida had pulled Squall out of the brooding brink, and he should be thankful for that. The sprite let go of him, and Squall nodded his head and waded on without looking back.

He took care of the last of the civilians and a couple of Geezards, and he finally surpassed all of them and fell to his knees in an exhausted heap.

"I... am.. impressed," the Sorrow said graciously, floating down in front of him. He snapped his fingers, and Squall felt a lessening of pain and ground earth return to his fingers. The ephermeral light faded to the gloomy underbelly of the excavation site once again. "Now... you must ask for forgiveness. But be warned... the answers you give always have dire consequences."

Squall was looking at the ground and contemplating that statement. He couldn't understand it at that moment. "What do you-?" He looked up, but the Sorrow was gone.

A new chamber had been opened where Seifer had taken the Weapon cube. The air in the underground facility was safe for him to breathe now, and he felt a much more relaxed disposition in control of him. He was curious as to what the blue light emanating inside the chamber in front of him was, and he picked himself up to investigate.

The chamber had a soft, squishy floor wrapped in vines and slime. Vines wrapped the walls and ceilings and draped in swooping arcs across the expanse of room. At the very back wall, a large blue gemstone the size of a thirty-story skyscraper shone brightly within the gloomy sepulcheral facility. Every five seconds or so, a great torrent of energy billowed within.

Squall took a step into the room as the torrent began to spin wildly within the gemstone. Suddenly, a flash sharp pain burned his skin, and he cried out in pain.

_The blue light leads all to death! Turn back now._

The voice was loud and booming and did not match that of the Sorrow's. It had come immediately after the searing burn attack. Squall saw the torrent occurred every five seconds, and he was determined to not walk when it was spinning. The burn didn't effuse when the torrent wasn't spinning. The gemstone was an exquisitely attractive specimen, and upon closer inspection he could see that something was inside of it. So, he made the slow and steady walk towards it, carefully timing the spinning torrent of energy. The walk was a football field from the entrance to the stone's steps.

Halfway through the vast chamber, Squall suddenly felt that old familiar pressure of losing oxygen. Whatever was inside the chamber stopped spinning the torrent energy for just a minute and laughed at Squall. _You have perceived the resonance. You have walked through the River Styx, and you think you know the answers. Turn back now, for you are just a silly mortal in need of a whipping to keep you in line._ It turned back on the torrent and whipped Squall with another searing blast that fell him to his knees, searing a deep wound on his stomach. Squall coughed up blood and smoke and fought hard to balance his control.

"There is air to breathe, there is air to breathe, there is air to breathe..." he repeated over and over, until he calmed down. The blood stopped coming into his throat, and he slowy got up to his feet. He waited for the torrent to stop spinning, and he kept up the pace. Each new step he took increased the pressure around him, until he finally reached the steps and his head was spinning. He found the Punishment embedded in the first step, but the hilt stung to his touch, and he cursed vehemently.

_What is this, eh? You wish to challenge me!_

Squall looked up at a large massive dragon. Dark blue with a fire-red belly, it had a muscular torso and arms. Its head was crown in a bloody patchwork of human skulls and olive branches, a strange combination of death and peace mixed together. Without a doubt, this was Bahamut.

"A challenge?" Squall said truthfully. "It is not my will to fight."

_Liar!_ Bahamut sent out another searing bolt from its claw, but Squall was annoyed by that intolerable burn and he summoned enough strength within him to hurl himself over it.

_Ahhh...intolerable human. Begging for mercy, are you not?_

It was determination that brought Squall to withstand the pain of grasping the Punishment's hilt. He ripped the blade out of the stone steps, and the gunblade gradually cooled down to his touch. "Never, King of the Dragons."

_King?_ Bahamut laughed. _I like the sound of that._

Squall heard a roar behind him, and he turned to see a Ruby Dragon barrel its way across the chamber. It was the size of a tank with orange majestic wings, a flame red body with a yellow underbelly, and a large black crown of horns embedded into its skull. It took to the air a hundred yards from the gemstone and brought its claw-arm down to slash Squall's body in half. Squall twirled the gunblade in his hand and shielded himself with its adamantine build. The Dragon's claw richocheted off the metal, and Squall whirled around and slashed hard multiple times into the Dragon's body. The beast slobbered fire out of its maw, and it flew a ways back out of the range of Squall's attacks and conjured up a fiery stew of bad breath. Rearing its head, it spewed the fire out and scorched Squall's back and thigh, but the Commander held on, leapt onto the Dragon's hind legs and scaled up onto its neck. He slashed continuously and with startling accuracy. The Dragon was pummeled and caved to the floor, and it tried to take to the air as best as it could, but Squall twirled the gunblade again and ripped half of its skull clean to the bone.

Squall jumped to the ground and stepped back from the carcass.

_Pah!_ Bahamut scoffed. _Even after Styx, you still destroy everything you see._

"No, Bahamut. As a human I cannot stop the death and destruction. It is useless for me to do so. However, I can recognize that you and Eden and all the others have a purpose for me, my ilk, and your brethren Dragons and beasts of this earth, and you all granted us the power to decide for ourselves how best to protect ourselves as well as how to carefully and economically decided what's best _overall_ for our well-being. It is with that acknowledgment that I express my humble gratefulness to you all."

The Guardian Force hesitated to respond. It merely looked at Squall for a long while.

_I see..._ it finally said. _Interesting._

The gemstone split into two, and Squall sped backwards a bit and looked up in shock as the giant blue dragon spread his wings and levitated above the floor. In plain view, it was truly a remarkable sight.

"I-AM-THE-GUARDIAN-FORCE-BAHAMUT. EDEN'S-RIGHT-HAND-MAN." The dragon beat his wings against the chamber, the bright red webbing glistening against the gloominess of the room. "YOU-HAVE-COME-A-LONG-WAY-SQUALL-LEONHART. IF-YOU-ARE-TO-OBTAIN-THE-MARK-OF-TRUST-YOU-MUST-PROVE-YOUR-WORTH-ONE-LAST-TIME"

Without warning, Bahamut swooped down, picked up Squall with his claws and soared him into the vast ceiling of the chamber. Suspended high above the floor for but a brief second, Squall felt like throwing up. But he realized long ago to fight a GF with a GF, so he summoned both Quetzacotyl and Diablos to help him, and both of the Forces were more than eager to help out for a short while.

Quetzacotyl appeared in a quick flash of light underneath Squall's frame and sailed him down to the floor, while Diablos protected both of them from a stunned and angry Bahamut. The dragon king's maw rippled with rage, and it spun in several circles before slashing Quetzacotyl's body to electrified ribbons. Diablos, stunned at first, unleashed a Gravija attack on Bahamut and stripped a sizable proportion of health from the King. Bahamut shrieked at Diablos, formed a melted plasma ball in its claw-arm and incinerated the GF in one fell swoop.

Squall widened his eyes at the scene but wasted no time. He pulled his sword close to him and remembered his Renzokuken training. He ran towards Bahamut, somersaulted off of the stone steps and grabbed a hold of the dragon's tail- eliciting a startled response. He sashayed up the dragon's spine and started pounding away. With the Punishment in his left hand, he made a deep incision across Bahamut's chest. The dragon instinctively folded its arms inward, and Squall hopped off the back briefly and landed on its left wing. Switching the blade to his right hand, he whirled around on the wing and slashed a gaping hole in the dragon's elbow. Leaping off the wing, Squall bashed his blade into Bahamut's face, clipped the right elbow, somersaulted over Bahamut's head, sliced open the dragon's neck, flipped twice opening the skull some more and then fell to the floor. Spinning quickly, he loaded a shell into his chamber and ignited a flame round straight up the stomach and chest through the dragon's neck and jaw. The shell exploded a chunk out of the left cheekbone and took the crown off its skull in one fell swoop.

Bahamut crashed back into its gemstone and lay there motionless and out of breath. Squall fell to his knees and could not believe what he had done.

"Have you seen the light yet?"

Squall looked behind him and saw the Sorrow standing there beside him. A look of vast approval was on his face. "You have displayed a far superior quality than I ever thought you could do. You are more than capable of showing a good stand against Hyne's forces."

"What about Eden's?" Squall asked rarily.

"YOU-ARE-LOOKING-AT-HIM."

Squall looked back at Bahamut, and the dragon King was staring down at him with what looked like pride and admiration. "I-BELIEVE-MASTER-LEONHART-YOU-HAVE-GREAT-THINGS-IN-STORE-FOR-YOU."

The dragon settled down in a more subtle pose and pointed its snout close to Squall's face. Its voice settled into a more calm demeanor. "You are brimming with passion, Squall Leonhart. Eden has done good things in your character. The very fact that a young woman possessed of Hyne's blood has fallen for your grace and ability as well is an astonishing attribute to have. Your mal-intented friend Seifer Almasy has much the same attributible qualities, but he does not have the heart nor the mind to put the two together- at least... not yet anyway."

Squall sighed painfully. "War is inevitable now. He will stop at nothing to unleash Adel's true potential. Millions might die next month when the attack finally arrives."

"Maybe not. I think this time, Eden will finally intervene on our behalf."

"...Does...He want to do that?"

"I think it's more of a Need."

Squall nodded.

"Hold still for a moment, and bend down before thee."

Squall did and at once felt a sharp pain along his upper back. A sour smell of flesh burning corroded his nose, but he had an idea what the dragon was doing.

"Wonderful," the Sorrow cooed.

"THE-MARK-OF-BAHAMUT," the dragon said proudly. "NOW-THE-WORLD-HAS-A-MORTAL-SAVIOUR."

"A...what?" Squall asked, bewildered.

"You will find out in time," Bahamut reassured. "NOW-GO! GO-BACK-TO-THE-LAND-OF-THE-LIVING!"

Intense bright light consumed him, and Squall felt uplifted. Rising at a fast speed, he blacked out into white light and felt a resurgence of new energy hit him. A cacophany of noises afflicted his ears, and he couldn't make anything out for a long time until images started appearing in front of him. He swam through the murk until he saw a hideous tattoo suddenly appear in his face.

He then realized it was that of a lightning bolt, and Zell's goofy grin suddenly made perfect appearance.

"Well, hey there!" the brawler said stupidly.

"Squall! You're alive!" Irvine shouted.

"Booyaka!" Selphie cheered.

"We were so worried," Quistis said seriously. He could tell from her look that Seifer had already been by, and she was quite pissed about that.

"Squall..." came that beautiful sweet voice. He felt her fingers on his neck, and he turned to see a peculiar expression on her lovely face. "What... is that?" Rinoa asked. "Is that a tattoo?"

The others immediately peered around her to take a look, and he realized he was half-submerged in a separate hatchway from the one he had previously entered earlier. He also saw that it was nightime outside, and he couldn't remember what day it was, too.

They heard Laguna chuckle. "It's an answer to our prayers," he said warmly.


	39. Gathering of the Storm

**GATHERING OF THE STORM**

In the darkest realms of the netherworld, in the loftiest edges of the lighter world, and in the treacherous and beautiful realms of the fantasy the Guardian Forces looked upon the earth for a longer than usual time and noticed strange events happening all at once. The defeat of Bahamut and the ascendancy of Hyne to greater prominence coupled with the strange and psychopathic fantasies of Ultimecia alarmed Eden more than ever. Slowly but surely He advanced to prepare the journey for His arrival in mortal form for a short time of being.

_

* * *

December 7th_

Zell Dincht woke up in the late morning in the perfumy scent of his girlfriend who was still asleep and dreaming. Lying on his chest, her long brown hair draped across the two of them and kept both of them warm and snuggly. He was late for inspection, and he knew it. Irvine would be pissed.

He tickled her ear, the one place which would surely wake her up right quick, and he laughed as she started fretting wildly.

"The cowboy's gonna be mad at me if I don't go right now."

"Screw him," Milena objected attempting to burrow deeper.

"I don't think he's my type."

She groaned and slowly rolled over to the side. "Well, bring back some Estharian deli when you're finished, okay?"

"Deli, deli, deli. You're gonna get fat after eating all of that."

"Look who's talking," she giggled, slapping his small potbelly.

"A non-hotdog diet will do that to you."

"Yeah... if you say so."

He batted her off playfully and found his strewn clothes. Putting them on quickly, he made a silly pose in the mirror and dashed out of his room.

"Why are men so weird?" she moaned in her pillow before trailing back off into dreamland again.

His eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness in the hallway, and he picked up the pace to the exit of the Presidential Palace. The pulsating elevator strode him down the exhausting shaft of light and colors and a dizzying array of workers, scientists, clerks and tourists rummaging madly in every floor of the Palace. War preparations were the name of the game for this last month of the year. Uneasiness could be seen as an understatement.

The elevator deposited the brawler down on the ground floor with most of the Estharian 75th militia performing mock fighting drills on a largely vacated lobby floor. The citizen-soldiers held blunt energy weapons with club-laced bayonettes grafted onto the ends, and each of them made several rolling and evasive moves before forcefully thrusting their shrewd weapons into dummies and effigies before repeating these same activities at a different row of victims on the opposite side of the room. Shrill barking orders emanated in the vaulting ceilings by experienced high-ranking officers who watched their every move.

Zell carefully bypassed the scene, marvelling at the steady operational quality much more advanced than the Garden SeeD had ever produced, and he finally exited the overarching Palace and hit the streets.

As a result of November's disturbances within the city, no thanks to a ignition from the Balamb SeeDs, the cheerful capitalistic society of Esthar had shrivelled and now resorted to wartime conditions that had marked the Adel-ruled period of before. The difference was in style and orchestration. The economy was now being bolstered into a massive manufacturing society. The banks were now foreclosing houses and lending money out strictly to munitions factories, missile houses, and boarding facilities for the military. The agricultural department institutionalized rationing plans to all members of the metropolis- rich, middle class and the poor, with a first ever occurrence, a larger percentage of food going to the bottom layer of society. All citizens of working age were ordered to do one of two things: train in a uniform or make a bomb or weapon. The malls were converted into giant factories, the ball parks were indefinitely shut down, the mom and pop stores discretely sold outside goods at nighttime but kept up the wartime scenery during the day.

The outside world reacted sharply economically the first two days, but as soon as the red mist of the Lunar Cry started appearing on the far western shores of Galbadia and Deling, wartime preparations hit their cities and a pledge of assistance by the newly installed government of John Chambers in Deling City was a welcome sigh of relief to the Estharian populace. Laguna had at least fifteen million eligible fighters within his city, and the outside governments proposed to send an additional five million more by the end of the month. Reports leaking from the underground spy network detailed an equal number sprawling around the Lunatic Pandora ready to unleash some hell upon the rich-soil city.

A few dark clouds were overhanging today, and a light mist of rain slowly drizzled across the numerous skylines draped across the city and onto his spiky head. Zell shrugged off the sudden cold snap that had enveloped the air and hurried over to the Operational Building- formerly Odine's main office. The streets were relatively crowded with many performing now routing military exercises, others rushing to get a quick bite of lunch from the several hundred makeshift eateries now dotting the cityscape, and still many others busy constructing massive gun towers all along the periphery of the city.

The gun towers were omnious pillars of death and destruction. Rising ten meters above the main part of the city, they were planned to equip ten ion cannons, several layers of machine gun nests, and several rocket launch pads to destroy the main Iron Giant herds that would rise up from the east as well as picking off the incessant Imp crowds. One tower was already completed near the far eastern gates, and hundreds of construction crews were carefully hauling the ten ion cannons up the shaft. Five more towers were in some stage of production, and twenty more sites were being planned for construction. One bad thing Zell noted that stuck out like a sore thumb: eminent domain prompted in several cases the complete demolishment of residential neighborhoods to install these death buidings. The brawler no doubt knew that some heated controversy probably emanated from that.

A roaring rush sounded overhead, and he looked up to see the graceful _Ragnarok_ swoop in through the thunderhead up above. A lightning bolt illuminated the cockpit, and he could just make out Selphie's head near her usual spot in the driver's position before the sleek airship docked on the helipad several yards away from the Operational Building.

"Must've finished a sortie," he muttered to himself. He was confirmed when several military jets streaked past and headed for their respective air stations. He nodded approvingly and headed inside Odine's former residence.

The crotchety scientist himself was sitting with a frustrated expression on his face not akin to that of one having a bad case of constipation. He was clenching a pamphlet tightly in his fist.

"What's got you under the kettle this time?" Zell asked.

"Itz your leader," he grumbled.

"Squall? What's he pissed you off with this time?"

"He's wasting time vith thiz preparations. Ve need to get to ze Pandora now!" Odine slammed his fist on his chair's arm rest and dropped his pamphlet by accident.

Zell was much quicker on the take than the old crony was, and the brawler easily snatched it up. However, he couldn't really make out what the fuck it was. "Why do you have a picture of a penis with you?" he laughed.

Odine balked and snatched the pamphlet out of his hands. "Zhis is not an organ of the human anatomy, you dolt! Zhis is an instrument within ze Pandora used for ze most efficient way of harvesting zhis city's crop output. It is vhat supplies the city and ze world market vith adequate food production."

"Rrright," Zell said.

Odine put the pamphlet away and spat on Zell's shoes. "Tell zhat Leonhart fellow to speed it up. He won't take counsel vith me."

"Who would?"

Odine made a raspberry and went back to his thoughts.

Zell shook his head and used the elevator to transport him to the top floor. He found Quistis and Irvine in the control room with several dozen members of the Blue SeeD crew diligently pouring over vital security papers linked among various things such as missile defense and capabilities, the looming ion towers, the hundreds of air force sorties, the strength of the Pandora forces, and the food supply of the Estharian forces. Zell's presence immediately caused all faces to look up and then they all shot back down.

Except Irvine's. He came up with soft speaking distance. "Poon-tang more important than national security, eh?"

"Given a choice, I much prefer the scent of flowers over the scent of gunpowder any day."

"Damn, she's made you effiet, but oh well. There's work to be done. I'll need your help in personally rigging the Alpha Tower with the machine gun nests. One of our crew members got a hernia hauling up one of the ion cannons."

Zell flinched at the sound of that. "Is Alpha the one that's already completed?"

"Yeah, a beauty, eh?"

"Oh yeah. These towers are really gonna do us wonders when the fighting starts."

"Oh yeah. Hey... did Odine talk to ya?"

"Yeah, that grumbling shithole wants Squall to launch a pre-emptive strike."

"More than meets the eye. Quistis here picked up a warning that Seifer might plan one himself."

"But the deal is he's not gonna fight a war until that Ultima Weapon is completed, right?"

"Wel-"

"I mean, the wire on the night that Squall finally got out of the underground tomb said as much, right?"

"Yes, but Seifer is Seifer. He's a douche. The Lunatic Pandora has ion cannons of its own, attached to humvees, and Whigham commandeers a detachment of still-defected Estharian soldiers, and there's growing fears that an attack like that will come sooner rather than later. That's why Selphie is running sorties all along the northern periphery."

"We might as well do that first to stop him from having all the fun."

"Don't get too cocky now. The citizens are against something like that, and now that we have the Congress back together in the same building a stunt like that will surely ignite another riot in the streets. We barely have enough support and assurance between the Conservatives and the Liberal Democrats, and we don't want to disturb that sinew now, do we?"

"...No."

Irvine laughed and patted him on the back. "Still got the aggressive moves in ya. Buried though now. That's a shame."

"Shaddup. Is this operation, er Operation Tornado, still going down on the 25th?"

"If all goes well."

"What wouldn't?"

"If Seifer completes work on the Weapon before then, or if Adel gets bitchy and launches it herself."

"Nail-biting time."

"Exactly."

The sliding glass doors to the Presidential room slid open, and Squall appeared. A ghastly figure he was, having not slept since the day he was pulled out of the Presidential Palace's shaft. He saw Irvine and Zell and motioned the two of them in without a word. They somberly followed and found both him and the President hunched over an illuminated globe-like board with dozens of computerized images and pinpoints highlighted atop it.

"Afternoon, gentlemen," Squall said raggedly. He had deep dark circles under his eyes, and the only invigorating image on his body was the dark dragon tattoo of Bahamut emblazoned on his neck. That was the subject of much controversy and much praise and fervor within the city and around the world.

"Afternoon, sir!" Irvine said with a mocking, friendly attitude eliciting the first small smile from Squall since his descent down into Esthar's underbelly.

"Squall, you need some sleep, man, or you'll never be able to carry out his mission," Zell said.

Squall waved that off. "Sit, you two. Important stuff at hand here."

They sat and waited while Squall just sat in his chair looking sternly at the globe. Laguna was just staring off into space.

"Any...thing wrong?" Irvine asked.

"Aw nah," the President said. "We've just been trying to figure out where exactly Seifer will attack from. He's lost a considerable amount of followers on the human side now that Squall here has the Sign of Bahamut under his wing."

Zell waved his hand around. "What exactly is this Sign?"

"A powerful aura," Squall mused.

"Understatement," Laguna said. "Most people who live here and around the world are convinced that dieties watch over us and influence our daily lives. Hence the Guardian Forces you all use. The tattoo engraved on Squall's neck is proof of their existence and enough to curb anyone's doubts. Just the sheer sight of it is enough to quell any insurrectionist mood in a human for the most part. The idea of Bahamut aiding in battle is something of a boon to the populace as well. Squall saw some pretty hefty action down there in that excavation site I gather."

Squall vaguely smiled.

"Yeah, Rin was worried," Irvine said.

"You all worry too much," Squall muttered. He rose to his feet and walked around the room. "Time isn't on our side. I need you two to leave the inspection processes to Quistis and instead start coordinated training drills between both the SeeDs and the Estharian military, while Laguna and I go gather some more reinforcements."

"From where?" Irvine asked.

"None other than the two most sincerest and safest places," Laguna emphasized.

"Centra and Nagansett," Squall clarified. "The White SeeD unit has been wiring us incessantly along with the Centran Coast Guard. The Shumi don't fight, but they do have Moombas and Chocobos. Those would be handy right about now."

"Squall, you seem to be the most worrying person here," Irvine chuckled.

"No laughing matter now. Selphie's sorties have given us a much more expansive look at the Pandora infrastructure than I care to know." He picked up a clicker and brought down a lit telescreen. Images of the far eastern land of the Centran continent appeared along with a devastating array of metal.

"What the fuck is that?" Zell stammered, rising up sharply and overturning his chair.

"Lunatic units," Laguna muttered with annoyance. He had seen too many of these for comfort.

"Armed to the teeth with armor-piercing rail guns and well-protected with adamantine metal. They seem to be constructing them in an assembly-line donut fashion. Five or six of them sit on a dais and rotate on an electrical spigot, so if one unit gets destroyed another can spin and take its place."

"Plus," Laguna said, zooming in closer on one cluster, "Iron Giants protect a triangular pattern around each of them, and ammo-laden Chimeras chalk up the rear so the gunners have plenty of stock."

"Mother..." Zell spat, unleashing a string of expletives.

Irvine scratched the now lengthy goatee that had formed on his chin. It had been several days since he had last shaved. "The Centran Coast Guard can launch missiles from the back end on the far eastern beaches, eh?"

"Precisely what we were thinking," Laguna said, nodding.

"I think Selphie can position the _Ragnarok_ to hit a good few rockets around the clusters as well."

"She'll need to be careful," Squall warned.

"Why's that?"

Squall maneuvered the telescreen's images more to the base of the Pandora. "Whigham's set up anti-aircraft redoubts all along the outside perimeter. It's a virtual trench nest over there. Barbed wire and everything. The deck is pretty stacked evenly on both our sides."

"Agreed," Laguna nodded morosely. "Ground warfare is sure to be bloody, and they have the edge on us with that Ultima Weapon."

"Ultima Weapon, Ultima Weapon," Zell blathered. "Can you create an image of just exactly what the fuck this dipshit looks like?"

"Temper, Zell, geez," Squall hissed.

"Well, I'm sorry, but what's with this thing that Seifer's all willy-nilly about. He's like a high school cheerleader over it."

Squall slowly shook his head and looked through the files on the computer for a generated artist's image of the behemoth. It took a while, but he found it.

"Whoa..." Zell said softly after a delayed reaction.

Irvine just stared.

In real life, the hulking metallic monster would be roughly fifty feet tall and dark blueish-purple in tone. The Weapon was half-man and half-lion with four powerful limbs supporting a chisled man's torso. The face was rough, yet smoothed around the chin and a mop of spiky hair dotted its skull. The right hand held an extremely long and wide Buster sword, and the left hand held a pulsating gravity ball that seemed to induce forbidden magicka. The power generator Cube Seifer desperately sought was plunged within its stomach and powered the dark blue hue that gave the Weapon its life. An armored cage on the Weapon's back held the operational site where a single driver could steer the behemoth across the battlefield and deliver a crushing blow to the enemy. The Weapon seemed slow on the take, but the Buster sword and the demiglobule seemed more than enough to even out the deck.

"I... guess we do need reinforcements," Irvine nervously agreed.

"I'm not too worried, actually, about the battle," Squall said turning off the screen.

"Really?" Irvine and Zell said at the same time.

"Yeah, I have this weird feeling it will go over well for us. I'm more worried about the Sorceress. And... what will happen to Rinoa."

"Well, she has you here so nothing to worry about, right?" Irvine said.

A wider smile crept on his face and Squall nodded. "Right." He checked his watch. "Go and get Selphie and tell her to rev up the ship. Then start training vigorously these forces of ours."

"Yes, sir," his two friends acknowledged and left.

Both Squall and Laguna sat in silence for a while, before they both sighed long and got up in unison.

* * *

The light mist of rain kept up throughout the day, but that didn't stop Angelo from prancing around in the middle of it- much to Ellone's chagrin. The coy girl vainly attempted to rein him in, but he ended up dodging around the water fountain in the town square eluding her grasps. Rinoa popped around the corner with Edea and Cid and laughed at the scene.

With a clicking of her tongue, the dog instinctively hustle over to her legs and accepted a couple of treats off the end of his nose. "He's a feisty one, Elle, especially when he wants to play for a while."

Ellone giggled and trotted up to the three newcomers. "I'd appreciate it if it was sunny outside, though."

"At least it's cooler than it has been recently," Cid said taking in a deep breath of fresh air.

"Yes, Esthar really has strange weather patterns sometimes," Edea said, taking shelter under a storefront awning. She didn't much care for the rain. "Always been this way," she muttered.

Cid and Ellone laughed amongst each other, and the Headmaster fished out a frisbee from his coat pocket. Angelo got even more feistier and the two of them romped across the courtyard attempting to catch him.

Rinoa smiled and watched them play before she saw Edea waving at her from the corner of her eye. "What is it?"

"Just a little talk." Edea craned her neck and stretched out her back. "To pass the time."

"You know," Rinoa said, "I have to say it's been a pleasure meeting you finally. Everyone has given you a lot of praise, especially in their remembrances of you over at Trabia Garden."

"I'm glad to meet you, too, finally. Squall sure was worried after you went unconscious. He didn't leave your side for a second."

Rinoa smiled and turned red.

"I'm sorry that you must bear the transformation into one of the world's most feared creatures, Rinoa. It's a painful struggle. I can definitely attest to that."

Rinoa pursed her lips. "Why are there such things as Sorceresses anyway? What's the point of all of this?"

"It's a vicious life cycle, a kind of-necessary component of life. Like the Sun rising each morning, or pollination of all the flowers in a garden."

"You have to admit, that's not very comforting."

"Mm-hmm. However, none of us take our powers willingly. Ultimecia forced them onto me at an early age. Then, later, she used you as host to drain me of the powers into you. Not all Sorceresses are as parasitic as she is, but it's kind of the luck of the draw as to what the eventual personality of the succubus will be after the transformation."

"So Ultimecia was a kind lady before _her_ cross-over?"

"I don't know the answer to that. I think you would have to get into her world and find that out."

Rinoa frowned and looked down at the ground.

"Rinoa." Edea placed her hand on the young woman's knee. "I apologize sincerely for all this trouble. I had no intentions at any point of my life of bringing you into this crooked world of Hyne's."

Rinoa patted the hand. "No trouble at all, Edea."

Edea smiled. "Would you like to hear my story? About how my part of this sordid tale erupted?"

"I'd love that very much."

"It's a very odd sort. Two Sorceresses had their hand on me, although Ultimecia's was only the most pressing. When I was a very little girl, about four or so, I lived around the Winhill area. Much as it is today, it was a very peaceful place, charming, beautiful, serene. One day, as I was picnicing with my parents up in the mountainous areas, a dark chamber opened up within the earth."

"Dark chamber?"

"Time compression offers a variety of sorts in which it can connect our world with the events that happened on it and the past as well as in the future. Many agents of Hyne have been trying to achieve time compression, although it is a very difficult process to do. It's not very easy to manipulate Eden's masterpiece that he has created. Hyne, his eternal Enemy, wishes to create a parallel universe in which he can operate as the Creator-type of being. I guess it is debatable about which world would be better, as this type of world isn't exactly a paradise. But if Sorceresses are some of the chief rulers of that Hyne world, I don't think it would be a pleasant place."

"That's what Ultimecia is trying to do?"

"Yes. She seems to be getting more successful all the time?"

"Because of Ellone."

"Ellone's unfortunately caught up in the mix. It's really Odine. He made that Junction machine that works exactly like Ellone's powers, but of course it's just a machine and capable of limited opportunities. Ellone is a malleable tool and can be fashioned into whatever design Ultimecia wants. You and Squall, however, are the two best people to stop her."

Rinoa blinked in surprise.

Edea caught herself and laughed. "Of course, the others are just as essential. But my story and your story are quite interconnected. I had many friends back in the day that helped me bear this incredible responsibility. But there are only two people that can bear the great magnitude this task entails: the Sorceress herself and her loyal and faithful Knight."

Awareness shone heavily in Rinoa's eyes, and she couldn't avoid blushing again. "Are they called Lions, sometimes?"

"Oh, yes, they are," Edea said, giggling afterwards. "Cid was a great one in his time and one of the few modern Gunbladers. Have you ever noticed that there aren't that many Gunbladers roaming around the world?"

"I have. I only know of Squall and Seifer."

"It takes a certain knack to master that weapon. More than that, it takes a certain type of person to be able to handle that task, that pressure. It is also no small coincidence that all Knights have been gunblade wielders, however I don't think Cid had that in mind." She looked down the courtyard to where he and Ellone had ran off, too. "Although I won't put it past him. He is full of surprises sometimes."

Rinoa laughed. "He's a sweet man, though."

"He is, he is. I met him later, though, in my late teens. The incident at Winhill forever changed me, Rinoa, as I'm sure your life is now forever changed."

"As long as Squall's there, I know I can handle it."

"Hmm... you are much farther along than I was. Then again, I guess I was quite young at the time- and an orphan."

"Your parents?"

"Annihilated by the creatures spawned out of the Dark Chamber. Two Sorceresses had been battling each other for control over that sector of Time Compression, and it had spilled out into that time era. Fortunately the Galbadian military outpost had been stationed in the vicinity, and a vicious skirmish manifested for several hours. There was violence everywhere, and I was caught in the middle of it. It was my first vivid memory of life.

"Then, one of the Sorceresses appeared in front of me and showered me in an aura of light. She was bloodied and dying, and it was just a horrid stroke of luck. By the law of Hyne, upon a Sorceress's dying alms she must pass on her powers to a young and vibrant successor. Only then could her spirit rest in peace, or transcend into another world I'm not really sure- I'll have to find that out someday. The Sorceress passed her powers onto me and disappeared, and I was succumbed into a newfound sensation.

"However, the witch had made a poor choice. My body was still far from adulthood and was still growing. Much of what she passed onto me melted off and dissipated. I wasn't a full-fledged Sorceress, but I was indeed ostracized by most of the Winhillian citizenry. I still glowed with that tell-tale aura sign. Good people though spirited me away to Centra and befriended me and helped me live out a good pre-teen and teenager livelihood. I developed a fondness for children due to the ongoing Estharian-Galbadian world war that was transpiring at the time. When Adel assumed power the number of orphaned children increased exponentially, and several Centrans and I pitched in to build the orphange that stands at Lighthouse Pointe.

"That's when I met Cid. He was twenty, and I had just turned seventeen. He was a member of the newly-formed Centran Coast Guard and an original Winhillian citizen, and we were both smitten."

"Awww..." Rinoa laughed.

"Cid told me how you and Squall met. At the military ball."

Rinoa attempted vainly to cover up her blush with her hand over her face.

"Yes, Cid was clumsy at first in his attempts to court me, but like Squall there was enough embers there to stoke a fire, right?"

"Oh, yes. Even though he made me so mad at the beginning."

"Oh yeah, I remember some tiffs we had, too. But he soon grew very protective of me, especially when I began to turn into more of the woman you saw heading Galabadia Garden."

"When did you meet Ultimecia?"

"Soon after I met Cid. I was... nineteen I think. Squall, Ellone, Seifer, Quistis, Zell, Irvine and Selphie were all there. Young. Very young at that time." Edea thought about that time. "_That_ was a strange scene. A lot of things were happening at the same time. In the orphanage's garden, a strong presence was thrawting an attempt of time compression to alter that world, and it was trying to influence me at the same time."

"What do you mean?"

"It was trying to tell me something, warn me of something. And then Ultimecia appeared. She was very weak and on the verge of death. Having seen this before and knowing that there were many girls within the orphanage, I did the only thing possible and took on the powers myself. Now, a full-fledged woman I became the new Sorceress of the time and let the powers subside in me until they had enough time to manifest into the Edea monster you saw in Garden."

Edea sighed long and hard. "My bitter part of this tale has subsided. I am awash in many layers of blood shed from people that I have not the slightest awareness of their background, language or culture. I feel just like a person in an army or naval force ordered to attack a nation or people that my government believes is standing in the way of so-called strategic areas. I guess nobody asks to be put in that situation. I only wish truly that your part, Rinoa, should not begin where mine left off."

"At least you get to live out the rest of your life as a normal human," Rinoa said cheerfully.

Edea nodded. "You're right. You're right. There is always that wonderful hope for women like us. The powers of the Sorceress are difficult to discern and very complex. Under most circumstances you can control them. You grow accustomed to them, you recognize their patterns and you tone them down and use them only when absolutely necessary. However... when an outside force such as another Sorceress or even Hyne himself comes in contact with you... like what Ultimecia did to you... the results will be absolutely devastating. Not even your Knight will be able to stop you. In most cases, he will be your aide and he will hash out most of the damage for you in your name, making him a target of uncalculable proportions."

"Did...that happen to you and...?"

"No. Squall stopped that at Garden, and Seifer did, as well. Although, I don't think Seifer knew what he was doing."

"How long does it take to learn our powers?"

"It is different among each Sorceress. It all depends upon each Sorceress's ability to come to grips with her situation. I suspect with your personality it won't be very long. You have a wonderful, invigorating spirit. You must be careful, though. Adel had the same characteristic."

"She did?"

"Yes. Learn to control those feelings, and you'll be able to save yourself the fate that befell her and what will ultimately do her in. Laguna made a terrific stab upon her, and I suspect Squall will finish the job. If you can control your strong feelings, you will be able to wage a strong and powerful presence and possibly unite entire communites together in harmony. With that strong passion it is quite possible that you will have strong healing powers as well. If that's the case, you will be able to retain that in the event of losing your powers like me or being spirited away into the afterworld when your time comes."

"Do you still retain some of your powers?"

"Some, yes. Minor ones. Most of what I had went to you, but you might interpret them differently. And, if Ultimecia gets a hold of you, they will be changed once again. There is a lot of risk of here, but like you said, Squall is here. That should give a great deal of comfort."

"Of course," Rinoa smiled.

"Now... if you can only tell him to sleep for once."

"Don't worry, I'll give him a piece of my mind when he gets his butt back here. He'll be gone for six days though. He's doing a round trip from Centra to Trabia to round up more support."

"Mark my words. He'll be the most powerful Knight this world has seen in centuries. Bahamut does not give his Mark out to just anybody, mind you."

"It makes him look more rugged, too."

"Oh my," Edea said, giggling and shaking her head. "I guess I was that goofy when I was young, too."

Both of them were laughing and unaware of the frisbee trio coming back to them. Cid asked, "Fun talk, girls?"

"Fun and informative, my sweet," Edea said, standing up. The weather eased up the rain, and the Sun partially peeked out of the clouds. "About time you got some exercise," she said, patting his belly.

"I know, this dog took the wind out of me, too."

Angelo shook his head and went to sit by Rinoa's legs. The young Sorceress became lost in thought, daydreaming about Squall, the mission at hand, her powers, Squall, the fortification of Esthar, what would happen when they confronted Adel, and Squall again. Finally, she realized the only thing she wanted to see was that familiar scar-faced SeeD again, and she naughtily wished she was someplace else.

_

* * *

December 10th_

While rain storms poured intermittently over the majority of the Esthar metropolis, a furious squall drenched the Far Eastern Lands of Esthar where the Pandora was docked. Farther north along the continent, near where the vast forests connected the thin mountain ranges of eastern Trabia, snow splattered the landscape and made matters slow goings for the Sorceress's forces. The Lunar Cry wave did not seem to like the icy weather, and the monsters crowded on the Far Eastern plain and the lower southeastern peninsula where the weather was warmer. The intensity of the delay since their landing on the earth nine days earlier had made a bulk of them jittery and ravenous, and some had resorted to cannibalism. Not even the Sorceress's shrill commands abated their writhing worries, and Seifer and Whigham were forced to man extra personnel to monitor the sancitity of the Lunatic Pandora for fear of stampede within its vicinity.

Of course it didn't help that the sorties committed by the Estharian air force and the _Ragnarok_ squad under Selphie's commandeering came each day. Since December 4th, at least ten coordinated aerial bombings rained down destruction among the artillery redoubts and monster encampments all along the eastern periphery. In just a week, a hundred thousand of Seifer's forces had been offed and several hundred tons of ammuniton had been compromised. One explosion had even managed to wreck the generator room of the Pandora. Rain from the insipid clouds steadily flowed within further increasing the damage.

Fortunately, the Ultima Weapon was nearing completion, but the information gleaned from his spies that made it back to base alive seemed all the more favorable in galvanizing a counterattack to the sorties. Squall and the President were out of town, and the city was now down to defenses manned by easily manipulated Estharian generals and Squall's inferior staff. The thought of seeing Chickenwuss manning another brigade of soldiers made Seifer laugh until he couldn't breathe much afterwards.

A blitzkrieg seemed a likely scenario- but then that would probably eliminate Rinoa and Ellone in one fell swoop.

Up in the command center at the very top of the Pandora's heighth, Seifer looked out behind the rain-drenched pane glass window and scanned the virtual impregnable fortress that was the Pandora. Five distinct layers separated the main flank from the Estharian landscape, each manned by powerful turrets with mulit-layered railguns smuggled from Esthar. When one set was done, another would fill in for it. The same was on the ground level on a circular dias and was even maneuverable and able to traverse the ground under the auspices of an armed pack of Iron Giants. The hulking monsters at the moment waited as sentries all around the Pandora, while the lesser monsters duelled each other or ate each other or both.

Seifer looked back and over at the vicinity where the Lunatic squad was being held. All members were juiced up to the max and ready to shed as much blood as possible. All former resemblance of humanity had been stricken away, and all that was left was a zombie unmatched in physical strength and untamed in the most brutal fashion.

And then, of course, there was Sorceress Adel. Yet, the damn Queen was becoming less and less stable and more malnourished by the day- not to mention, extremely bitchy. She had almost decapitated Whigham in the blink of an eye if he had not stopped in time. Seifer was worried. A battle plan for a strike on the 25th was out of the question. There was no time to wait, but it was still to early to begin.

He had spent many sleepless nights, and his eyes were virtually pinkish-red. With nerves stricken, body aching, and mind reeling from a dozen hangovers strung upon each other, the only thing that kept him going was the possibility of adding another permanent scar to Squall's being. His old orphanage colleague had gotten him good on the remembrance shit down in that sewer of a place below Esthar, and he had not appreciated that moment. Those times were in the past, where they should have stayed. There was no point in bringing them back from the grave.

Their next meeting would be their last- he was that sure of it.

And probably sooner than he thought. The tell-tale noise outside the window pane, above the din of the thunderstorm, was excruciating. The aerial sortie was back, and the outlines of the ships were just visible.

"Today is different, you spunky piece of shit," he hissed. He turned back behind him to where Raijin and Fujin were overseeing a squadron of air traffic controllers. "Send out a fleet and fire a salvo."

Raijin nodded gravely, and before long the controllers had an attack commencing.

* * *

"Red Raiders One, Two and Three follow my signal. Red Raiders Four, Five and Six scour the periphery and unleash the first salvos," Selphie ordered in her command lead aboard the _Ragnarok_

.

"Copy, Gold Raider," the first three raider ships responded. The last three equally agreed and broke off from the pyramid formation and scoured the air in three different directions across the grand lagoon. They now entered the heavy mist of the thunder shower, and their ships lurched under the pressing weight. Red Raider Four commented on the heavy pressure, refixed his gauges, and then ordered a round of fire.

With brilliant accuracy, the trio machine-gun fired three separate encampments and blew a missile into one of the five protective walls surrounding the Pandora completely toppling over a gun turret. Seven rows of railguns spilled down to the ground, crushing the occupants within. The three Raider ships let off a resounding cheer and failed to watch their surroundings.

"Oh shit, what is that?" Selphie cried from her position away from the firing triangle.

A hull had opened up in the middle of the Pandora during the explosions, and a large row of rocket pads slowly edged out. At least a dozen gold-tipped cones poked out of their compartments.

"Pull out, pull out, Raiders, they're not playing arou-"

The dozen cones belched out with alarming accuracy of their own, and two of the Raiders went down easily. Raider Five was able to skip away from the main explosion, but the rockets were ringed with smaller missiles inside, and the initial explosion unleashed a couple more cones into the air to go off with their own fiery blasts. One of these such cones hit the tail rudder of Raider Five, and the poor bastard jettisoned to the ground. The pilot bailed, but the monsters scoped out his parachute and swarmed him as soon as he hit the ground.

More rockets belched out, and several brigades manned the turrets along the Pandora's entrenchments and trained their sights on the Estharian squad. Selphie's _Ragnarok_ was hit by a string of railgun shells on the side, and the impact jerked her craft violently in the air, but she was able to save it and ride out high in the black clouds.

"Raider One, band with the rest and-"

Raider One was hit with a tremendous explosion that didn't behave like a rocket impact or a railgun shell.

"Gold Raider!" yelled one of the support crews flying among the Raider squad.

"What is Echo-Three?" Selphie asked.

"The Sorceress is outside!"

Amid more and more of her comrades being blown apart, Selphie saw Adel almost as soon as she heard her name being mentioned. The witch stood pale and stricken atop the Lunatic Pandora lashing out pulsating waves from her body that zigzagged throughout the sky. When they connected with the aircraft, the planes burst into millions of green fragments- a total incineration.

"It-It-It's time to go," she chuckled nervously to herself.

She gathered the remnants of her squad together, some five out of thirty that had attended her, and they stormed back to the city. Down on the ground, the smoldering wreckage of the Raider and support crews were being infested viciously by the Lunar Cry denizens. Gutwrenching and despicable, the once wet golden earth was now plastered in guts and fire.

Seifer watched from his position and caressed his chin calmly.

Atop the Pandora, Adel watched the whole scene with very hoarse breathing. Impatient, stubborn and unwilling to listen to Ultimecia's warnings slowly infecting her mind, she unleashed a collosal wave from within her body and sent it straight at the city. The wave passed underneath Selphie's ship and slammed into the southwestern portion of the metropolis, destroying hundreds of buildings and much of the garrisoned entrenchment Squall's forces had made in the past nine days.

_

* * *

December 13th_

Balamb Garden cruised the waters like never before- this time aerially. The Blue SeeDs had managed to work hand-in-hand with the FHers in installing advanced engineering to the underbelly of the campus. The Garden could now make the trip from Esthar to Centra to Trabia then back to Esthar in just under eight days.

The Centran Coast Guard had unanimously agreed to help the Estharian's cause, and the delegates from Galbadia and Deling were on hand to add forces of their own. By the 15th, they would have enough to make the two-day trip to the far eastern shore of Esthar to deliver a surprise attack on the Pandora. Seifer would be expecting to attack on the 25th, when really the 17th would be upon him instead. Squall had to smile at that.

Now, he and Laguna were headed to Nagansett to revisit the Shumi once more- and maybe collect some Moomba and Chocobo forces to help out Xu's forces. Centra had had some Chocobos to spare, but not nearly enough as Trabia had in stock.

The Garden had just soared near Alcauld Island when Laguna came out on the second floor observatory deck. Squall was wrapped in thought, fresh from a graceful thirty-hour round of sleep after going more than a full week without it. He was also smoking a pack of cigarettes, drinking some hard liquor and obviously worried about Rinoa. Laguna could read him like a book, although he didn't necessarily approve of the vices- it made him remember his own past issues with those.

"She's a good girl," he said offhandedly, as he walked over to lean against the bannister.

Squall barely heard him. He only continued to stare off into the distance, at the long and beautiful horizon of the sea to the north. The island was to their immediate east, and the noon-day sun shone on the mountain peaks there in a view he hadn't seen since his days as a cadet. Sitting out on this observatory deck, he remembered the last time he had taken a long, hard look at the rolling waters- just recently when he was carrying an unconcious Rinoa on his back across the Fisherman's Horizon bridge. It seemed like everything he thought about worked its way back towards her. He took another drag on his cigarette. A lot sure had changed, too.

"She reminds me so much of Julia..." Laguna mused suddenly.

"Huh?"

Laguna started. It seemed he had surprised even himself. "Oh... sorry... I muse a lot."

"The least of your problems," Squall muttered.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"After being _you_ through all those dream sequences, I have to say your overall being-ness is very quirky. Why does your leg cramp up all the time?"

That last phrase reminded Laguna of why he was out here in the first place, and he felt the spasm starting to happen again. "Uh... that only happened... when I wanted to say something... and then I couldn't say it."

"That sounds like a personality problem."

Laguna smiled and shook his head. "You would say something like that."

Squall grunted and gulped a swig of his drink. "You said... Rinoa reminds you of Julia?"

"Yeah, donchaknow? She's Julia's daughter."

"I knew that."

"Well... I was just musing. That's all."

"Apart from her dad, who's now gone too, she and I were alike on that matter." He didn't notice Laguna jerk his head up at that. "Both of us don't remember our mothers too well. I never knew mine, and she barely knew hers. Strange world we live in, huh?"

Laguna looked at the floor and sighed, "...Yeah."

"What are you out here for?"

"Huh?"

"You seem like you're out here for something."

Laguna seemed lost for words a second, but then he turned his back on Squall and looked out at the sea. "Just wanted to get some fresh air."

"Well, then," Squall muttered, flicking his cigarette into the ocean and taking his liquor, "don't mean to be an ass, but there's some stuff that needs to be getting done. I'll talk to you later."

Laguna waited until Squall had put a hand on the door handle. "I was never really good at words."

Squall raised an eyebrow and slowly looked behind him. Laguna was still staring off into the sea. "You should know, Squall. You were in my head for at least a half dozen times. You saw me talking with Julia, fumbling around with the guy,...interacting with Raine. I was nothing but a peon then, but now as the President of the largest city in the world... things like this are still not easy for me."

"The hell are you talking about?"

Laguna slowly turned around, and Squall saw that he didn't have the usual bumbling look on his face. No, this was a concerned and serious look etched across the outline of his face. "It's been a long and vacant seventeen years, hasn't it? For both of us?"

This time Squall raised both of his eyebrows.

"Only you were the one inside my head, you know that? Of course, I didn't know it was you-I thought it was just some dumb old faery, one of the run-of-the-mill stuff. The others, your friends, went into Ward and Kiros, just as conduits to help out Ellone's power.

"Ellone, she, ah, she told me about you when we caught up with her from the White SeeD ship. You were always on her mind, because of the-uh-because of the bond you two developed early on-ah-hrm-geez, I'm never very good at this."

"What are you saying?" Squall said, with a mixture of awareness and irritance. He had taken a couple of glaring steps closer to Laguna.

"If I had gone back to Raine when there was still a slight chance... I-I don't think she would have died, but it was a very serious complication she had with the birth. And the Galbadians never took the time or day to help out its periphery lands with adequate medical attention. The child was a boy, and he survived the birth. Raine was alive long enough to name him and look into his eyes and see the life and vibrancy that he gave off. Then... she...was gone. Ellone was there at the time of the birth, and she thought he was just the cutest baby she had ever seen, and she ended up being a big sister to him after that. She felt very sorry for him, knowing that his mother had died and his father couldn't come to him and watch over him. Elle took it upon herself to care for him as long as possible, and with the help of Cid and Edea she helped him in that orphanage."

Laguna's voice had trailed off, and his eyes had finally found the sea again, and he stared at it long and hard.

Squall's leg felt like jelly, and he fought to find the door handle, grasped it and used it to slide clumsily down to the floor. There he sat and held his pounding head until the dizziness subsided. He could not believe this.

The two of them sat and stood in silence for a good long while. It could have been an hour's worth since both of them looked quite pale under the strong sunlight.

Suddenly, Squall found a burst of energy within him. He banged hard against the wall, startling his father, and he jumped to his feet. "Fuck that! You had ample enough time to explain yourself way before this moment! All during my growth period! Every bit of it!" He got within a foot of Laguna's face. "Why didn't you?"

Laguna slowly sighed. "You don't ever have to like me. You don't ever have to trust me. I only wanted to tell you the truth. Help you understand your past better. Ellone tried to do that for you, but she knew she wasn't strong enough to tell you everything. And... she didn't want to upset you, Squall. I..." He shook his head. "There are so many things I have done wrong with my life. People say I've changed them, or enlightened them, or some such other way, but I could never keep _my_ life intact. I walk out on one woman, leave a second one behind, and leave ultimately a son in the dust. I know I don't deserve any accolades for anything, Squall. I just... don't want to see you live the rest of your life an orphan forever. I tried to allieviate that. I sent Ellone back to care for both you and Raine- in the hope that Raine would have made it. I sent Cid with orders to train you at Balamb Garden, and I watched keenly the newspapers of all your exploits. Ellone filled me in on the extra details that I needed to know. I essentially know everything about you, except I did it the cheap way and that will always stick out now the most."

Squall held his head tightly and walked away a few paces in order to breathe a little better. The door opened behind the two of them, and a SeeD popped his head out. "Commander, a wire reporting from Esthar, sir!"

Squall took a moment before he nodded his head and the SeeD disappeared. The young leader hesitated a bit longer and then slowly walked toward the door. He was stopped at the foot of it.

"If it's possible, son, I only ask for forgiveness. When this war is all said and done, we can go our separate ways if you want."

Squall didn't look at him, but he didn't leave at once. A thunderstorm of things fought each other in his head, and he slowly walked away from Laguna, each step seemingly weighed together by several boulders. Laguna, meanwhile, sighed heavily and leaned against the railing and thought long and hard some more.

* * *

No sooner had he reached the command center in the Training Grounds, Squall was thrust a piece of paper. On it was an urgent warning detailing three consecutive days of bombardments by the Pandora forces along the eastern walls of Esthar.

"Why haven't I heard of this before?" Squall yelled at the top of his lungs.

"S-S-Sorry, sir! W-Word tr-travels slowly over s-s-seas!"

"I don't care about that fucking shit! Scratch off Nagansett and turn this ship around back to Esthar! The enemy has counterattacked our defenses. It's time to unleash the war."

"Y-Yes, sir."

_

* * *

December 14th_

Squall and Laguna were silent together as Balamb Garden slowly pulled up near the western beach. In the early morning light, the bombardment had stopped for the moment- a possible reloading time- but the devastation on the far southern end and parts of the northeastern end had been incredible. The worst Esthar had seen since Adel ruled it seventeen years earlier. The scenery recalled brutal images in Laguna's mind that he thought had be suppressed long ago.

The mood between the two of them was still chilly, and everybody on the Garden recognized it, as well as everybody within the city when they started walking through it. This was not the time and place for family matters, and the two of them robotically shrugged it off and proceeded at dawn break to corral the city back into order. Zell and Irvine were on the scene in a flash, with Rinoa, Edea and Mila helping dish out food and medical aid to the afflicted. Intense reconstruction once again reigned across the city, and some of the more stable-mind Congressmen helped quell some riots in the southern sectors.

Around noon, another round of Lunar Cry denizens descended on the city accompanied by a viciously loud siren way off in the distance. The Estharians were at first confused by the sound, but with their President and the Commander of the Allied Forces present this time they all felt a resurgence of spirit. The brigades manned the ion cannon turrets and quelched the frontline of Imps that descended over the hill and down into the valley where the eastern gates lay. A bloody mess consumed itself at the gate entrance, and more monsters and human fighters descended further to the north. An intense two-hour fight was waged heavily lopsided in favor of the Estharians. Several neighborhoods were infiltrated but quickly driven off, and in the end the Pandora squad routed and rallied back to their base.

Squall received a wire that the Ultima Weapon had just been completed. With the Centran Coast Guard and the Chocobo Forces two and a half days away, the odds of an easy victory was slashed in half. From his desk in Odine's laboratory, he slammed his fist on the table and cursed really loudly.

"Squallie!" Rinoa yelled from behind him, scaring him accidentally.

He wheeled on her in an alarming, maddened trance but then softened up and collapsed in his chair.

She rushed towards him and sat on his lap. "You need to rest more than once in a week, you know that?"

"Kinda hard to do right now, huh?"

She cupped his face with her cool hands. "You're all warm."

"It's kinda hot in here." He tried to pry her off in order to get back to work.

"H-ey! Aren't you going to say 'hi' to me?"

"What?"

"It's been seven days."

"Oh...yeah. Hi."

She closed her eyes, shook her head, and then buried deep into his chest. "I missed you, Squall. I just have to say that."

"You always pick the weirdest times to tell me these things."

Playing with his jacket, she replied, "Comes with the territory. Kinda like Ellone telling me you _do_ have a daddy close by you!"

She felt him jump beneath her. "She told you that?" he asked.

"She figured Laguna would talk to you about it, and she only told me about it. No one else knows. But... if you two keep acting cold to each other, the others are going to find out about it."

Squall seethed inside and then relaxed into an uncomfortable silence.

"What do you think about it?" Rinoa asked.

"I don't know what to think about it."

"Squallie, come on. The least you can do is appreciate it."

He put both his hands on her shoulders. "Listen. _That's_ a little hard to do, okay?"

She copied his movement, harder though. "That's why you have _me_ here to help you, okay?"

He rolled his eyes and looked past her at the monitors detailing Seifer's position.

She grabbed his chin and focused his attention on her. "I'm here for you. I love you. With all my heart. And there's nothing in this world that will ever damage you strongly as long as I'm here. Not Seifer, not Adel, not the Lunar Cry, not Ultimecia, not your family life. I am here for you through _all of it!_"

His face softened under her touch, and his eyes unwillingly formed into those of a puppy dog eliciting a softer expression from her face.

"I love you, Squall."

"I love you, too, Rinoa," and they kissed for the first time, slowly and softly.


End file.
